As is usual, there is a trigger warning on all of this. But it's not a graphic chapter, some of you will be pleased to know.
"Rachel!"
She heard her name being called just as she prepared to leave the choir room after Glee. Momentarily, she considered just picking up her bag and leaving anyway, ignoring the voice that sounded to desperate to speak to her, but the more rational part of her knew it was something that couldn't be avoided any longer. She'd make it quick. Say what she needed to say and hear him out, then leave. There was no need for anything more than that. So why was her heart thudding inside her bone dry mouth as if she were about to leap from a plane?
The strap of her bag dug deep into the palm of her hand as Rachel clutched it close to her shoulder, a lifeline that she needed to hold onto, or else the parts of her that she was struggling to hold together might just drift away, leaving her with barely any self and nothing left to catch the floating pieces with. Rachel took a deep breath before turning to face him and waited for the mental pep talk she always used to give herself before nervous or upsetting situations, but nothing came. It was as if that confident, optimistic voice that used to reside inside of her had been silenced by something much darker.
"Finn," she managed to choke out. Her breath seemed trapped inside her throat, blocked by the huge, heavy lump that had formed there, and the mere sight of his face was enough to make her eyes sting.
"Can we talk?" He said, quickly, as if he were afraid of losing his nerve, and Rachel felt a rare surge of irritation. Why was he always such a coward? He'd never come out and say what he really felt, he'd gloss it over and cover it up, do anything to avoid the fall out. He had been the same the very first time he had broken up with her, it had taken him ages to do it, and even then he hadn't told her the truth. It was only from being able to read him so well that Rachel had got that. And the second time, he'd just shouted at her. He'd never once given her the chance to explain herself, never heard her side. Then he'd used the following weeks to hurt her without ever actually having to speak to her and face up to the situation.
"We already are talking, Finn," said Rachel, sharply. For the first time since he had broken up with her, she was feeling anger mixed with the hurt. Anger that he had never listened, never bothered to pay her any attention other than to hurt her, although it was clear to even Santana that she was way beyond hurt.
Finn turned a faint shade of pink. He was used to Quinn speaking to him like that, pointing out his mistakes, being brisk and annoyed, but not Rachel.
"I just wanted to see if you were okay. Kurt told me about this morning."
"Well I can assure you Finn, the medics did a fine job of ensuring my condition did not become life threatening. I would have thought my presence here and general de-miner would be more than enough to inform you that I am perfectly well. With that in mind, I am sure my physical well being was not the true root as to why you stopped me leaving the choir room with the others, and I urge you to make your desired point with haste."
Finn blinked at her, surprised. That was something that would have been considered perfectly normal before their break up, but in the weeks after, that had turned into months, she had become quieter. Less likely to ramble as she just had. She used one word instead of five. She could have just said get to the point, but although she was being so sharp with him, Finn was glad she hadn't. It meant the girl he loved was still in there somewhere, hiding amongst all the hurt he had caused her.
"I wanted to talk about things. You wanted space, and I've given you that. I wanna know where I stand. Where we stand."
Rachel closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, the whole world looked brighter, sharper. It was easier to focus.
"Where you stand is right in front of me, here, now. But as you can see, we are facing each other-"
"Rach, I didn't mean lit-"
"Which is exactly the problem. We are not side by side, you do not have your arm around me, our hands are not clasped together and I am certainly not enjoying being so close to you as I once did. We're alone in this room, as we are not touching. We are not touching, because it hurts to touch you Finn. It hurts to even be near you, speaking to you, as we are now. Just this conversation is killing me inside.
"I love you, I forgive you, but that doesn't mean I can forget. Every time I try, I just hear all the things you said to me, I see you with Quinn and Santana and just how quickly you moved on, and so far you have done very little in the way of making up for it. I don't want this to be the end of us Finn, but right now I can barely even look at you without it tearing me apart, so please, just let me decide when I've had space."
After that, he didn't try to stop her as she left.
…
There was only one thing on her mind as Rachel rushed out of the school. The more she thought about it, the more eager she was to get home. She would probably be alone, as usual. Her dads did not get back from work until late, something that she had been thankful for in the past months. Not only did it mean they had not noticed the missing knives and things as it was always too late to cook anything by the time they did return home, but it meant she had a whole evening ahead of her to do what she needed to and clean up.
At first, Rachel had worried they would question the missing items, there were a lot of them after all, but the only things they had noticed the absence of so far were their razors, and it had not even once crossed their mind that Rachel would have anything to do with it. They had simply assumed they had ran out without realising at the time. It had been pointless for Puck to take those anyway, she could never use them. She couldn't explain it, but using her dads' razors would feel wrong somehow, like she were letting them in on her private world.
As eager as she was to get home, Rachel had to walk carefully across the parking lot. The past few days had brought with them flurries of thick snow, and although it had eased off while she had been in Glee, everything was soaked in a deep blanket of white and patches of ice lurked innocently underneath. If it had not been for glancing around her every few moments for signs of out of control cars hurtling towards her, Rachel would not have seen Kurt moving towards her as fast as the weather would allow.
His pace slowed when he reached her, falling into the same step as she. Silently, Rachel groaned. She loved Kurt, he was the best, and one of the only, friend(s) she had ever had, but all she wanted right then was to be alone. She wanted to walk, think and use the craft knife hidden behind the sink in the bathroom without the worry of him being right outside. If he was there, not only would it not feel so private, but she'd be rushed. She'd be concerned with taking too long and making him suspicious.
As soon as they were out of the parking lot, Kurt grabbed Rachel's arm, carefully and sure to avoid her bandage, and began to drag her in the opposite direction to where she wanted to go.
"My home is the other way," she pointed out, as if he didn't know.
"You're not going home," he replied, as if it were a given and she had no right, or reason, to argue. "We're taking advantage of the otherwise irritating weather and going ice skating. There's a frozen over lake near my house and in the last year or two, someone set up a booth and started to rent out skates. You're going to take your mind off my Neanderthal brother for an evening and engage in some ice dancing with me."
The argument had not even left Rachel's lips before she was silenced by a hush from Kurt. He moved his grip down her arm so he was holding her hand instead and practically dragged her along behind him, ignoring her excuses.
"Rachel, I know you don't have to be home. You're dads are at work until much later. I figured it out after both myself and Finn had been to your house countless times and have only seen them about three times collectively." He added the second sentence before the 'how did you know?' could even form. So much for that secret. Still, Kurt didn't seem worried. Like her dads, he must have taken up the view that she was more than capable of looking after herself.
…
Rachel stepped tentatively out onto the ice and felt it slide underneath her before she could land her second foot. Kurt, who seemed to have no more problem walking on ice with only thin blades to support him than on ordinary ground with sensible shoes, caught her before she could crash to the cold ground. She clung to him, wondering when on earth it was she had agreed to do this, and why, of all places, they had picked the one that seemed to have the entire population of Ohio for her to make a fool of herself in front of.
Kurt took her hand again, that time for holding up purposes and began to skate slowly around the ice, pulling Rachel along behind him. She squealed and clung to his arm with her other hand, and he rolled his eyes at her dramatics. Then, grinning wickedly, he sped up suddenly and Rachel screamed as she found herself hurtling forwards on the ice, Kurt's hold the only thing stopping her from plummeting to her death, the other skaters becoming nothing but blurs around them.
"How are we supposed to stop?" Rachel screamed, her voice even louder and more piercing than it normally was through her fear.
"Like this," Kurt called back, and before Rachel knew what he was doing enough to stop him, he deliberately swerved into a mound of snow to their right. He was the first to fall and pulled Rachel down beside him, both landed with a light thump in the heavy pile. As soon as she had her bearings, Rachel sat up and slapped Kurt across the arm.
"What are you doing?" She shrieked. "Do you want to get us both killed!"
He laughed and grabbed her arm as she sent another slap his way. Her eyes were flashing dangerously, but her hand still tucked in his told Kurt he was just about forgiven. That time.
"Calm down Princess, it was either that or crash into another person. Or we could have simply gone round and round the ice until it melted and sent us plunging into the water below and we could have then swum to safety. There is a correct way of stopping, but I never learned it."
Rachel huffed and got gingerly to her feet, pulling Kurt up with her as she did, but neither stepped back onto the ice. They watched the other skaters for a while, seeing some stumble and fall, just as skilled at it as Rachel was while others glided past effortlessly, like Kurt. One kid took one look at their clasped hands and called out "Get a room!" He can't have been any older than twelve and the misunderstanding made both of them crack up laughing.
Once they had started, it was very hard to stop, especially for Rachel who hadn't felt herself laughing like that since before she had broken up with Finn, and the pair began to attract a lot of attention in the form of annoyed looks Some less miserable people merely looked amused by the pair of hand holding teenagers, hysterical over something they did not know by the side of the lake. Their looks only made them laugh harder, and Rachel felt a warmth spreading inside her like one she had almost forgotten.
By the time the hysterics had subsided to gentle giggles, Rachel had lost sight of what had been so funny in the first place, and it was only then that she realised, somewhere along the line, they had sat back down in the snow again. It was extremely cold.
"Can I ask you something?" Said Kurt, suddenly looking more serious. The last trace of laughter died in Rachel's throat and her heart sank slightly at the look on his face. He looked almost afraid, as if he didn't want to know, but needed to ask anyway. She nodded, not knowing how else to respond and Kurt squeezed her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.
"Did you...your arm, did you do that to yourself, Rachel?" He asked, firmly, his words blunt once he managed to get them out.
A hammer began to pound against her chest and cotton wool found its way into her mouth, soaking up all the moisture. The skaters blurred in front of her eyes even more, and without rational reason, she felt like crying. But if she cried, he would know. But would that be so bad? She could just nod, right now, and he would know the truth. He'd know her biggest secret, and she didn't think he would run. He was still there now, and had obviously suspected it since that morning. But he would know. It would not be private. It would not be hers.
"Of course not," Rachel shook her head, with a slight smile as if it was crazy that he could even think such a thing. "I would do nothing that could get in the way of my Broadway career, and what would casting directors think of a body full of scars?" She reasoned, realising the truth of her words only as she spoke them.
Kurt studied her for a few moments, as if trying to detect a lie and Rachel was sure he would be able to see her heart pounding underneath her coat. If anyone was going to see through her lies, it would be him. He knew her better than anyone, and aside from herself, he was the most intelligent person she knew. Then, to her relief, his face relaxed and broke out into a grin.
"Good," he said, squeezing her hand again. "Because you'd tell me if you ever thought of doing anything like that." It was not a question. Rachel's insides twisted with guilt. She plastered on her show face, mainly blank but with a hint of a smile to make her look brighter, more alert. Like someone happy should look.
Unable to look at Kurt's face anymore, Rachel gazed back out to the skaters, pretending to be transfixed by the way the blades glided across the ice, causing long, deep gashes wherever they went. The silver glistened with water that seemed to polish the blades until they were sparking. Someone skidded right past her, coming within inches of her feet and the mark they left behind cut deep into the thick, hard ice.
There were a pair of ice skates in her garage.
Apologies to Finchel haters among you, but it was a conversation that had to be had, and personally, I ship them. That doens't mean this story will necessarily turn out Finchel, but then again, it might do. You'll have to wait :) And also, I loved the first episode :) Got up early wednesday morning to watch and OMDs Quinn is annoying!
Pretty please review? They make me almost as happy as a new episode of Glee (I so need a life).