Author's Note:

So, I know it has been some time since I uploaded anything on this story. I really hope you all don't hate me for taking so long. I just got a computer back since my old one crashed. And to be honest, I really just had a severe case of writer's block with this piece.

I promise I do plan on finishing this, I just don't know how long it will take.

That being said. I hope you enjoy this instalment. I truly am grateful for all of your patience.

Disclaimer:

I do not own glee. If I did, I would be super rich, and probably not writing fanfiction since I would be writing real episodes.

Chapter 7 - Fantasy, History and Clarity

The smell of pine floor cleaner mingled with the freshness of leather armchairs, creating the strangest of aromas. It was disorienting, yet at the same time comforting. As if the bafflement of her senses created an illusion in which Rachel Berry could finally see her life with clarity. The stock white walls were brightened by strong sun light, adding a shine to the empty canvas to which she could paint her life anew.

In her peripherals Rachel saw the red velvet curtains, lined with a golden yarn fringe, ready to be drawn shut on the little fantasy she was living. She chose to focus on the bountiful laughter of the fictional audience. The excitement bounced through the acoustics of the theatre as Rachel pulled off the clever comedic relief that was intricately placed within the lyrics. The gasps of the shocked critics softly echoed as her voice grasped the high note so far out of others' reach. The golden locks of her talented co-star caught the light, glowing with a molten candlelit gloss, while his dazzling voice matched her harmony, elating it the song to a new high.

Damn, her inner narrator cursed as the spotlight blanketed Jesse St. James face, highlighting his physical perfections. Even here, within the safety of her mind, his incredulous reputation invaded her. It is her time to heal, not his. Still, the heat of his touch, the velvet of his voice, the scorch of his burning star managed to scold her within the most intimate of places. It is her place for therapy, her stardom that needs igniting and yet, her flames hardly feel extinguished. No, if anything, his heat, his fire, fuels her spark into an inferno. She cannot escape him, a fact that becomes increasingly aware of as the painting of her untouchable, unachievable life melds to hold him within the centre sphere.

The dark wood of ceiling-high bookshelves contrasting against the latte coloured walls. The photos of a life that could have existed were arranged on the stone mantle of a rustic fireplace. Cast parties, family dinners, and private evenings alone, were glimpses of the two lives in joint; their faces captured in the clear glass highlighting their immense happiness. Her eyes were entranced by her own, a doppelganger, living in a moment that never actually happened, but a soft giggle drew her attention.

Rachel's gaze followed down the hall. The black picture frames lining the walls held posters, playbills and ticket stubs of all the shows made great by the touch of unrivalled talents. Antique furniture, simple decorations, the smell of pine cleaner and leather armchairs, all materialized around her, creating this new imaginary home.

Taking a deep breath, letting the aroma fill her lungs, Rachel's strength was revived. She began on a route, one that seemed predetermined. The gentle humming and soft laughter, which barrelled through the apartment, acted as her guide. Rachel could almost feel the drywall under her fingertips as she glided her hand down the hallway wall towards the golden light of candles glowing through the almost heavenly looking doorway. Her breath hitched when the harmony of their laughter fused within her mind, and when she finally let her eyes fall through the threshold, Rachel was sure she felt the wetness drip down her cheeks.

Her heart stopped for an agonizingly blissful moment. There on the floor they laid intertwined. His golden curls twisted in her fist while his hands ran down her body. Their smiles sprinkled with dashes of ecstasy and ultimate joy, a joy denied to her conscious reality. Her dark brown hair fell like a curtain down to the black and white tile floor, as she arched her back. His fingers were hidden in between her thighs, his teeth were gently nipping at her lower lip, but it was their gaze, eyes locked in an exchange so intimate, which caused Rachel to blush.

She felt as if she was intruding on the most private moments. Yet, it was all happening in her head. Her fantasy life. A place that Rachel could hardly intrude on, especially on a scene that contained her naked on the floor of, supposedly, her kitchen. Rachel painted her new life all right. She painted it with a naked Jesse ravaging her, all the love she wished he would give her evident in his intense gaze. Rachel painted the future her teenage self dreamt of, a future she apparently still longed for.

"Rachel," Jesse whispered, when the figment of herself closed her eyes with a soft moan. "Rachel," He whispered again, but there was something off about his voice. It lacked the usual richness, but his lips were now burning a trail down her neck, one she swears she felt mirrored on her own skin.

It was disorienting. His touch, it radiated on her, but the sound of tapping fingernails for some reason was drawing her away from it. She would give anything to stay here, watching as Jesse continued to have his way with the happy Rachel she longed to switch places with. She wanted to remain consumed within the circle of pine cleaner and leather arm chairs...

"Rachel, wake up," A forceful new voice boomed drawing her eyes to open, revealing the office she sat in before. The stock white canvas mocked her now as she recovered from her fantasy.

"Sorry Dr. Cherry," Rachel said softly, her chocolate orbs scanning over light coloured wood furniture, white carpets, and black leather chairs before landing on the young brunette woman with a notepad. "I haven't done this in quite a while. I guess I forgot I had to actually talk." A small chuckle escaped Rachel's lips as she ran her hands nervously along the bottom of her skirt, picking the stray piece of lint off.

"That's perfectly alright," As she spoke, Dr. Cherry made a small note on her note pad, her bangs falling off to the side of her forehead. "And please call me Nicole."

"Ok Nicole," A new resolve rushed through Rachel, and she let out a determined breath, laying her head back against the chaise lounge. "Where should we start?"

"How about we start with what brought you to see me today Rachel?" Nicole asked, taking a sip of her coffee. Her voice was calm and reassuring, but at the same time it was professional. A shrink voice, Rachel thought, but the upturns of Nicole's lips made her seem so genuine. "After looking over the files from your previous psychiatric care, I'm curious as to the reason for your first visit in eight years."

"And those reasons are Quinn Puckerman and Rylie Graham," Rachel laughter was light as she remembered their almost forceful request.

"Friends of yours?" Unlike an interview, the scratching of Nicole's pen was hardly a deterrent for Rachel to control her dialogue. Instead it fuelled her to divulge more.

"The best." The statement was absolute, lacking any resentment. "You see, two nights ago, my boyfriend and I got into an argument."

"Oh?" Nicole hummed, glancing up from her yellow legal pad.

"It turned quite explosive," The pen which was constantly moving stopped briefly and Rachel's eyes widen for a second, "Not physically of course, but there was a lot of yelling, and my friend Quinn and her husband—"

"His name?"

"Noah—had heard the entire exchange on the phone," Rachel paused for a moment before continuing, the need for dramatic suspense seemed far too important at that point. "They begged me to come over after the exchange and when I arrived Rylie was there as well."

"Rachel!" Quinn's voice carried through the damp air the instant Rachel emerged from the yellow taxi. The cool of the night bit through the thick black trench Rachel wore, and she immediately hurried to the front door of Quinn's Brooklyn home. "Are you alright?"

"I think so," Her answer shivered through clattering teeth, as Rachel shrugged off her coat and made her way to the warmth of Quinn's sitting room. The fire, burning softly in the hearth, basted the room in an orange glow, highlighting the concerned faces of both Noah and Rylie. The sight warmed her heart and placed a smile on her lips as she hugged both of them. "Hey Rye. Noah."

"What the fuck happened Rach?" Noah's unmistakable anger tinged his voice.

"Finn was just upset about the audition, that's all." Rachel said softly as she flopped onto the sofa.

"Oh, is that all?" Sarcasm, trademark sarcasm at that. The famous Graham sarcasm, the one that etched her work, creating a new type of accented English. It was a comfort that Rachel always relished in. "Just a little yelling. No harm there right? I mean he is only suppressing your will to pursue your dreams, thus sentencing you to a future of misery and regret, but it's all in the name of love and selfish attachment so it's ok."

"Rylie," Quinn's voice tried to cut through her rant, but boded useless.

"I should take this fire poker and shove it up his—"

"Rylie!" Rachel interjected with a gasp, "violence is not the answer here."

"I'm with Graham on this one," Noah commended the redhead with a pat on the back and heading towards Rachel. "I figure a girl chat is needed here, plus I'm a little lacking on sleep for work tomorrow." Giving Rachel a hug, he headed towards the hallway before adding, "You need anything, especially someone to give Finn a good ass kicking, I'm there ok?" At Rachel's nod he continued to the bedroom, and when the door clicked shut gently Quinn finally spoke again.

"Seriously Rachel, don't give us the whole 'I'm fine really' routine," Rylie coughed, masking the correction of 'bullshit', before allowing Quinn to continue.

Always editing Rachel thought with a laugh, "What's happening Rach?"

"Honestly, Finn's outburst isn't really what's eating me up," Rachel said with finality. Rylie was about to say something, most likely a clear argument as to Rachel's last statement, but was quickly quieted. "I kind of expected this from him. He never will understand my need to be on stage. The entire drive over here I kind of accepted the inevitability of this reaction."

"So, what's really bothering you then?" Quinn asked, picking up on Rachel's hesitation to divulge.

"Jesse," Rachel said softly after a few beats of silence.

"Jesse?" Rylie asked her voice laced with a mock confusion, but neither Quinn nor Rachel said anything about it. The smirk on her lips was enough of a giveaway.

"Have I ever told you what actually happened with Jesse?" The question was directed to Quinn, Rylie having heard the story long ago, but neither responded to the question. After another few moments of calm silence, Rachel continued. "You see, in high school, when we were sophomores Quinn, Jesse, who was a senior, and I started dating. You remember right?" Quinn nodded and Rachel stirred her spoon in her tea. "Well it didn't go exactly as glee club remembers it."

Confusion blanketed Quinn's face and Rachel let out a soft sigh. "Jesse and I, said we were over. He went back to his school after the 'funkification' vocal adrenaline did to the choir room and of course the Queen performance, but I really truly was upset about it. Actually, I was far from angry at him. You see, I knew about it." Quinn concentrated on Rachel's words, trying to relive the moments of the past, hoping to pinpoint any hint of Rachel's facade.

"He told me why he came to McKinley after our big 'Run Joey Run' argument. Being double casted surely upset him, but moreover, it rendered him in guilt and after spring break, he broke down on my porch. He confessed it all, how Shelby asked him to come and reconnect her with me, how he was suppose to freak out the team. I knew, I knew it all. He told me weeks before I was even suppose to meet Shelby, and still I went along with it. I wanted to, I needed to. This was our story, it was how we needed to keep our relationship. We had fallen in love, but the circumstances of that love were like Finn's reaction: inevitable."

"Ever the drama queen," Rylie said, "Rachel, you're adding tinkles to the heart break. Seriously, you're performance is flawless." Quinn's hushing was all the cue Rachel needed to continue, a small smirk tugging at her lips at Rylie's comment.

"Thanks Rye," Rachel said with a wave of dismissal, resuming her devastating tirade. "I was young, we both were. It was like our very own version of Romeo and Juliet. After he returned to Carmel, we would sneak into either Lima or Akorn. We spent time indoors away from the teams, hidden from the teams." Quinn and Rylie sat in encompassed silence watching as all the emotions blanketed Rachel. The memory of joy filled their friend, gracing her lips with a wistful smile. It was then that both Quinn and Rylie knew her feelings for Jesse had hardly dissipated. "No one ever came over to my house then, and his team knew better than to venture to the St. James' household since his parents were hardly pleasant to any Vocal Adrenaline member.'

'We went skating at his pond, watched movies, and continued our secret affair. Of course it was passion filled, and exciting, and as I said before, I was young. I was really just hopeful for a time where we could be public again. It was quite silly actually." Rachel shook her head, clearing away the fog in which the memories created. The happiness she experienced, it was over now, she could not let lost in the cloud of happiness. "Anyway, it was all going great, sure we were in different schools again, but we were together, and happy. Except, then regionals happened. Obviously, you know the outcome Quinn, we lost. Jesse won and he had Nationals a month later. I was devastated, but I knew Jesse deserved it. His performance was honestly flawless." Rachel was looking right at Rylie as she spoke, knowing that Rylie understood just how talented Jesse was.

"The time until his nationals was spent with constant preparation. Jesse was always practicing. Shelby was running a tough ship at that point. Jesse would come back with bruises after rehearsal and—"

"Shelby was beating the team?" Quinn asked with a gasp and Rylie let out a bark of laughter at the interruption.

"What? No! She was not beating the team, but the rehearsals were intense. The choreography had a lot of kicks and lifts. A lot of the females were uncoordinated so Jesse would constantly be getting a kick to that arm or torso." Rachel's brow furrowed as she remembered just how dark those bruises were. It may have been a beating, it certainly looked like one. " I spent most of my time with him then helping him practice and taking care of his bruises and aches. But still, we were happy. We were together.'

'It was after Nationals when it got crazy. Jesse won, and Noah got upset, along with the other boys. In addition, they burned down Jesse's sailboat, I still feel terrible about that actually. Jesse made that boat with his father, it was really important to him but he didn't show it." Quinn glanced back at the bedroom door, remembering how destructive Noah used to be in their high school days. She always assumed Noah burned Jesse's boat, but until that moment, it was never confirmed. Rachel hesitated with guilt, knowing that Quinn was probably going to give Noah a talking to about it.

"Wait just a minute," Rylie said, drawing focus to her side of the couch, "Noah, as in Noah Puckerman, was the one to arson Jesse's boat?"

"Yes," Rachel said.

"Chef Noah Puckerman, as in your husband?" Rylie added, nodding over at Quinn.

"Yes, that Noah Puckerman," Rachel said again, her voice becoming a little more firm.

"Wow," Rylie whistled, "I didn't think he had arson up his cards. I always knew there was a short fuse, but jus wow."

"Yes well, he has done a lot of growing up since highschool," Quinn commented before motioning for Rachel to continue, obviously eager to hear the rest of the story.

"Jesse said it was 'the price to pay for betraying, even in a falsehood, the heart of Rachel Berry.' We ended up going to the lumberyard the next day to buy materials for a new boat. We spent the rest of the summer building. It was so much fun, great excessive, and not to mention a great way to blow off steam after the endless glee drama. We finished mid July, took it out to the marina the same day actually. We kind of," Rachel began a blush creeping onto her cheeks, "spent the night on the boat. We were going to sail around the coast for a month before Jesse had to go to UCLA."

"Wait," Rylie, who had a smirk already forming on her lips, stopped Rachel from sailing full speed past a very important issue. "You spent the night on the boat?" Rachel nodded sheepishly, suddenly remembering why she conveniently left this part of the story out each time she told it to Rylie. "Your first time was on a boat?" Rachel nodded again, her cheeks getting redder. "Did the waves add some, y'know, momentum to the thrusts?" It was amazing how Rylie still kept a straight face. Rachel's jaw had dropped open as she struggled to hid a smile, Quinn was almost howling with laughter, and even Noah could be heard chuckling in the other room.

"Does that really matter now?" Rachel asked in between bits of soft giggles. When Rylie shrugged and shook her head no, Rachel continued. "Anyway, the next morning I headed home to grab a bag of clothes and some supplies for the trip. I was supposed to meet Jesse at the harbour, but I had time and figured I would grab some new music for the trip. As I was walking to through the parking lot of the mall, Giselle and Vocal Adrenaline were there."

"What?" Quinn asked, shocked at never hearing about this sooner, "why?"

"They said something about Jesse pulling the longest gag that anyone ever had before. The best funkification for next year, and bombarded me with eggs. I was drenched in yolk," Rachel could see Quinn's fist gripping the blanket tightly with a repressed rage, but Rylie's were still, unclasped as she sipped her tea with a stoic resolve.

It was strange, each time Rachel had told Rylie this story, her friend's reaction always got gradually angrier. But this time, she was fine, calm even. Unbothered by it all. Something was up, Rylie was either up to something, or knew something, and Rachel had a feeling that working with none other than Jesse St. James was the reason behind it. Whatever it was. "I was upset, almost on the verge of hysterics. The thought that Jesse could be behind something like this, when he knew about and always accommodated to my vegan lifestyle, left me devastated. But I refused to believe any of it, even when I was showering at home. I still managed to get to the marina on time. I was even there ten minutes early, but when I got there, Jesse, and the boat were gone. He left without me. And I never saw him, or heard from him again. After a few months I kind of accepted he was behind the egging, but until I saw him on stage at the Canon, I was never sure."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room, as Rachel withdrew to a distant place in her memory. The devastation of that fateful day had never left her. His guilt-ridden face, Jesse's destroyed mask was sticking out in her mind, only confirming his evident involvement. With a soft clearing of her throat, Rachel sipped on her tea, letting the heat radiate in her, but Rylie's voice brought her back to the present.

"Rach," Rylie said, her voice filling the sitting room, "As dramatic as that story is, what does Jesse have to do with tonight?"

"Ah, well," she paused before finding the right words, "Since that night, on the boat, I haven't been able to sleep soundly."

"What do you mean, how long do you sleep a night?" Quinn asked curiously as she placed her tea on the saucer before her.

"No longer than two or three hours." Rachel said casually, like it has not in the slightest affected her life, "I constantly have the same dream, over and over again, and after I wake up from it, I can never fall back asleep."

"Rachel, I don't think that is really healthy," Rylie's voice took on a nurturing softness that made Rachel tingle with a strange type of need. The need for a comforting supportive affection that she lacked on so many other levels of her life. "I mean, I know that's definitely not healthy."

"Yeah, did you ask a doctor about it? Maybe they can give you sleeping pills?" Quinn added, her gaze unwavering, as she studied Rachel's appearance.

"I asked," Rachel took a sip of her tea to wash the need to continue out of her system. She had no idea why but for some reason the fact that she was able to sleep that night felt far too intimate to share with her best friends. Sure, she could tell them everything but this little piece of her heart was the only shred of peace she had left. It was private and hers. "He said I should see a shrink about it, but I never did."

"Well, maybe you should see one Rach," Rylie stirred her tea as she often did when she was thinking deeply, "It may help you get over all the emotion of it…"

"And that's why I am here," Rachel's eyes finally met Nicole's full on. They were sympathetic, unlike any other 'shrink eyes' she has seen before. It kind of frightened her how un-scrutinizing Nicole's green orbs were, and it definitely unnerved her how she was unable to read the opinions Nicole was forming.

"Hmm," Nicole's response to the story unravelled Rachel more. A hum. That was all. Rachel felt the panic stir.

"What?" The anxiety seeped into Rachel's voice. "What is it?"

"You want me to be blunt?" Nicole asked directly, placing her pencil down on the side table.

"Yes" Rachel nodded eagerly, "please."

"It's a clear case of obsession in my opinion. You are obsessed with what had happened, more because of the lack of closure. You are in the play with him aren't you? Or might be? That may be triggering it. This—"

"But this is the first time I saw him," Rachel interjected, her mind reeling through Dr. Cherry's diagnosis, "And because of that I was able to sleep!" And just like that, the most intimate moment in Rachel's mind became privy to her shrink. This woman was definitely good.

"What?" The question was soft, interested, and immediately accompanied by the scratching of a pen on paper.

"For the first time in years I was able to sleep." Rachel said, unsure of whether to continue, but Nicole's eyes bore across the space of her office, urging Rachel to speak. "The dream, it ended." A confusion flustered on the professional's face, and Rachel tried to regain some coherency. "What I mean to say is it finished. I get this dream, it's a dream of the memory we made together. But it never completes. It never reaches the end, I always awake before the intimacy we created is re-enacted." The pen moved vigorously across the notepad, and Rachel, sighed out before finishing. "The night after the audition,"

"The first time you saw this Jesse St. James again?" Nicole asked, glancing up from her notes.

"Yes, the same night, the dream finished. It progressed through it all, and I woke up, but I slept. I really truly slept. More than 3 hours. More than five. Dr. Cherry, I slept all night."

"Then that's the solution." Nicole said with a matter of fact smile.

"The solution?"

"Yes," She said, smiling a little more brightly, obviously pleased with the progress they made in just one session. "Closure. You never got your resolution after something so obviously traumatic to you. You have to get your closure with this Jesse character."

"Oh." Was all Rachel to say? The simplicity of how Nichole Cherry managed to make the situation eased Rachel a great deal. Closure. How could she never of come to that option before?

"Rachel," Nicole said with finality, a voice finally fully familiar to her. A shrink is ending sentences. "I'm afraid that's all the time we have right now, but may I make a suggestion?"

"Yes," Rachel stammered slightly, still simmering through the session's remarkable clarity. "Yes, of course."

"First, I think you should consider continuing to see me, especially if you get this part in the play. It may help you work through the obsession. You will be working with him a lot after all," Rachel nodded in agreement, knowing in her heart that she would have continued her sessions regardless of the suggestion. "Second, I think you should talk to Jesse. Then maybe sleep can actually come naturally to you without requiring his presence. Maybe then these arguments with Finn won't occur as much either."

"I know I have to."

"You can't just know," Nicole, her business casual skirt fluttering behind her as she stood and walked to her desk. "You have to take action to move forward. Call my office whenever you wish to schedule your next appointment."

The crisp fall air and still bright, the sun lighted her mood considerably as Rachel walked out of Dr. Cherry's office. The events still swirled through her thoughts, pulling a considerable amount of her focus. So much so, she nearly missed the buzzing of her cell phone against her leg. Rachel was briefly frightened it was Finn calling her again, nearly ignoring the ringing device in her pocket, but better judgment got the best of her.

"Hello?" She answered the unknown call, with a confused tone.

"Hi, is this Rachel Berry?" The female voice on the other end of the line was curt yet bubbly, and Rachel's curiosity gripped through her.

"Speaking."

"Hi Rachel, this is Hannah Green," She said, before adding. "Arthur Hammel's secretary."

"O-Oh, H-Hi" Rachel stammered, her nerves taking over. She stopped mid stride, unable to move any further down the sidewalk. The immense importance of this call taking up all her mental processes. "H-How are you?"

"Great thanks," Hannah's polite voice was filled with a genuine joy, and Rachel felt hope bubble through her. "I am calling to inform you that the role of Satine in the Revival of Moulin Rouge is yours if you want it." Rachel nearly collapsed on the sidewalk. She hadn't just heard right, had she? This was a joke, it had to be. But it wasn't. Excitement filled Rachel's whole self and she nearly jumped up and down in spot before realizing Hannah was politely waiting for an answer.

"WH-what! You are kidding!" Her excitement was palpable and infectious.

"No," Hannah's chuckles were reassuring and Rachel's smile only grew in size. "This isn't a joke I assure you. Rehearsals start next Monday at 7 AM sharp. Please arrive a little early for warm up stretches and costume fittings. Congratulations, Rachel." With a quick thank you, the call was ended. And Rachel finally grasped the reality of the situation. A lead role.

Rachel Berry got a lead role in a Broadway play. Starring alongside one of the most talented actors she knew. Her dream, her painted life, was slowing becoming a reality. Now, if only Finn could see the greatness in this accomplishment.

Please review!