Chapter 11:
"You can't lock the door, Rachel!"
There's another bang.
"Seriously! Cut this shit out, it's not safe! What if something happens?!"
Curled in the corner of the room with her dog, Rachel declines to answer. She feels stiff and hollow. The sharp pain in her heart has dulled to a deep ache that spread across her entire chest. The rest of her is numb. Part of her believes that Yero's presence is the only thing keeping her from spiraling into a catatonic state. She'd sobbed her heart out immediately after locking the door. Yero had slipped in just in the nick of time. She'd calmed down a lot faster than she thought she would, but she attributes that to the anger. She is so very angry. And disappointed. And hurt. There's arguing in the hallway that she doesn't bother listening to. More banging. Softer pleading. She ignores it all. And why not? They gave up on her, after all. Their words race through her mind. In a fit of defiant rage, she stands (on her own two feet, by her own power, imagine that) and grabs her laptop. She will do exactly what they want her to do. Leave NYADA, go home, and never speak to any of them again. Yero joins her on her bed, lying beside her while she sits up against the wall. She scratches his head and waits for her computer to load. Once it does, she opens her email and starts typing.
Dear Madam Tibideaux,
I want to start by thanking you for giving me the opportunity to attend NYADA despite my medical issues. I truly appreciate the accommodations you were willing to implement to allow me to attend. It brought me great joy and pride.
There's a sudden stinging pain in her chest that's entirely emotional. She uses the back of her hand to swipe at the tears dribbling down her cheeks.
However, it has been brought to my attention that my health is declining. As much as it pains me to say this, I must withdraw from the university at this time. I doubt —
Rachel stares at the words on the screen, the blinking cursor daring her to keep typing and finish that sentence. That's what they all seem to expect, right? They went from insisting they are positive she'll recover to insisting she rest so she can get better to giving up on her. They don't think she'll survive, so why should she? She'll send the email, start packing, text her mom (a phone call would have her falling apart again), and head back to Ohio. She'll spend the rest of the semester with her mom, then ask if she can spend the summer with her grandparents so that she's not near them when they visit home. So they won't be able to see her or visit her. She'll block their numbers. They expect her to roll over and die? Fine. They can get a taste of what's to come. They can get used to her suddenly not being around anymore. She wonders if they'd regret it. Or if they'd be relieved. That thought crushes her. Is she holding them back from living happy lives? She is, isn't she. She finishes typing the sentence.
—I'll ever return. Thank you for everything.
All my best,
Rachel Barbra Berry
The mouse cursor hovers over the send button. The walls of the room start moving in closer. Her face crumbles. No. No. Fuck them. This is what they want, it's not what she wants. It's not even what she needs. She worked too hard to give up now. She wants to live her life. And she will do it the best way she knows how. Her finger slams down on the delete button and she watches with satisfaction as the email is deleted one word at a time. The bedroom door crashes open and she jumps, her hands instinctively dropping her laptop and clinging to her dog. Finn stands in the doorway, shoulders tense. Broken wood splinters from the door jam. Calming down, Rachel takes in the details of the scene and realizes that Finn kicked the door open. Everyone else is crowded behind him. She sighs and slumps back against the wall. Well that didn't last long. Kurt shoulders through the group and shoves his way into the room.
"What the fuck, Rachel?! You can be as angry and dramatic as you want, but you can't go putting yourself in danger like this."
"Danger? Danger?! I'm sitting calmly in my room, dipshit!"
"You know what I mean!" His face flushes. "Anything could happen to you in here and no one would be able to get in here to help you!"
"Right! I forgot! I'm dying!" She shoves herself up off the bed. When she's standing before him she throws her hands in the air. "That's me, at death's door here."
"Stop being a drama queen! This was stupid! It wasn't safe!"
"Well the door's open now, so you can leave."
"You need to—"
She steps closer to him. "I think you misunderstood me. Leave. Now."
His expression is a mix of hurt and sympathy. It pisses her off. She turns away from him. His hand snags her arm and turns her back around.
"We're doing this because we love you."
Everything blurs. Her dad is packing a suitcase with shaking hands. He pauses to look over at where she is holding an ice pack to her cheek. "I'm doing this because I love you. It's what's best for you."
Heat flares in her chest and the ache throbs. The words she'd been too scared to say aloud at the age of ten come tumbling out. "You're wrong."
"Rachel—"
She blinks and the memory vanishes. "I know you love me. But you're wrong about it being what I need." And love isn't always enough. It's what you do with that love that matters most. Kurt's eyes are welling up.
"We just feel—"
"And what I feel can't be trusted according to you, so why should I trust what you feel?! You're not me!" She snaps at Noah.
"Everyone get out." This came from Finn, surprisingly.
The others hesitate, then slowly exit. They give the couple uncertain looks as they go. Finn pushes the door against the door jam. Now that it's broken it won't fully close, but it's enough to give them a little privacy.
"You agreed with them." She accuses.
"Yeah. I want what's best for you. I thought that was us taking care of you, but now….after the past month…..I don't know. I don't think we're what's best for you right now."
"That's—"
"Just for now." He interrupts. "Not for forever. Just….for right now, we think it'd be best if you go home. Rest. Get better. Then come back and keep going. Keep fighting while also living the way you want. We just don't think you're strong enough to do both right now."
"I am!" She won't back down from this. "I am! Finn, I'm not as bad off as you think."
"And you're not as healthy as you act."
Her jaw is clenched and she sucks in a breath through her nose before slowly releasing it. "I slow down when I need to. I rest when I need to. I tell you all when I have a headache or I'm dizzy. I don't hide anything."
"That's true." He nods. "But you're still trying to live life how you want and not how you can. There's a difference between having high spirits and high expectations."
"So I shouldn't expect to get to live? I shouldn't expect to get better?"
"No! That's not what I mean! I—I'm saying….take it easy. I want you to have high spirits. But just because you're staying positive and keeping your head up doesn't mean you can actually live like you're healthier than you are."
"I don't push myself past what I can handle."
"But you push yourself right up to the edge."
She huffs and paces away from him. "Okay, I hear you. Maybe I need to slow down a little. Maybe cut a class or something. I can handle that."
"You wouldn't be happy with that. I know you, Rach. Cutting even one class would make you miserable."
"And leaving the university entirely wouldn't?!" She snaps.
"Of course it would!" He responds tiredly. For a moment she feels guilty, but pushes it away. "But I actually think it'd be less upsetting for you. You can stay home with your mom and rest. Then your focus is getting better and not on college. If you stay here and cut back a class, you'll constantly be reminded of it. And you'll hate it. You'll push to go back to it as soon as possible because you are an overachiever."
Rachel thinks over Finn's words. He may not be wrong, but that doesn't mean she's happy about it. A mild attack hits and she quickly steps over to the closest bed and sits on the edge. Finn watches silently, giving her space. When it passes, she looks up at him.
"I see your point." Relief spreads across his face. "But I disagree. I still think I can handle all of my classes right now." When he opens his mouth to retort, she holds up a finger to stop him. "However, to make all of you feel better, I'd be willing to drop one of my classes and take it over the summer instead. No, I won't be happy about it. But I'll do it anyway. For you. I strongly believe I'd handle that better than leaving entirely. You're not just talking about sending me away from college. You're talking about sending me away from most of the people I love most in this world. You're talking about sending me away from you. I'm never gonna to be okay with that."
"Me neither. Except that it's what's be—"
"Don't you dare give me that bullshit. I don't want to hear you say it's best for me. Being away from you is not best for me."
"It is when it interferes with your health."
She throws her hands up in the air. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It means I'm not what's best for you. Not right now, at least." He runs a hand through his hair. His face is so hurt but so serious that it takes her aback. "I love you so much. I need you to be okay."
"I will be."
"You will." He agrees. "But maybe not if you stay here. So I'm sending you away so that you can get better. You need better care than I can give. You don't need me right now. You need your mom. Your parents."
The room tilts from how fast she stands from the bed. Her own expression is fierce, a direct contrast to his disheartened look.
"I don't need you? I don't need you?! What the fuck, Finn?! I've needed you from the very beginning! When it's two in the morning and I'm scared or panicking about having to go through this again, who do I turn to? You."
Tears pour down her face and her voice shakes. She'd be sobbing if she weren't so determined to yell at him. She's never been so angry with him before. But she's also heartbroken and scared. The pain in her chest comes back stronger than before.
"When I'm having a good day and want to share it with someone, who do I tell about it first? You. When I'm upset or not feeling well or even just lonely, who do I turn to to hold me? You." Finn's face is wet. Her face twists further and her voice drops. "When I started thinking that suicide was my best option, instead of reaching for razor blades, who did I trust to talk to about it first? You. It's always you, Finn."
Rachel squeezes her eyes shut, jaw clenched, lips quivering, and sucks in a shuddering breath. She presses her hands against her face for a moment. He takes two steps closer to her, face heartbroken. She holds up a hand to stop him. If he touches her right now she'll break down completely. When Rachel has gathered herself enough to speak more, she wipes her face with shaking hands and looks at him again.
"I turn to you because I know you'll be there. You answer my call, you listen, you hold me, you find a way to convince me that it'll be okay even when I feel like my world is crumbling around me. You give me the strength to keep fighting when I want to give up. You give me hope and comfort and joy. I reach out to you because I love you so much and I know you love me enough to bear this with me." She throws up her hands. "Or at least I thought you did."
He opens his mouth, but she points at him angrily, silencing him. "No. You said your piece. Now I get to say mine." She takes in a deep breath, face falling. "I've been leaning on you because I see a future with you. I only want a future with you."
The intense emotions of this afternoon, especially after a month of being stressed, is taking its toll on her. A wave of dizziness hits her and she stumbles back a step. Finn looks alarmed and starts towards her again. Again, she holds up her hand. "Don't. Just don't."
She leans on the wall next to her. She hears the creak of floorboards as Finn comes closer despite her warning. She backs away further, not wanting to be touched in this moment. When the sounds stop, she presses her back to the wall to stay standing. She knows she should sit, but she can't bring herself to. Sitting now would be giving up. And she refuses to give up on him.
"I want to share everything with you, Finn. I thought I was." Her voice is now broken and despondent. "Because you are my everything."
Finn sucks in a breath, more of his own tears falling.
Rachel shakes her head. When she speaks, her sarcastic tone is more venomous than ever before. "But no, of course, you're absolutely right Finn. I don't need you."
Finn looks like he's been punched in the gut by the force of his misjudgment. He sees her start to shake and lunges, catching her as her knees start to buckle. In his arms, she doesn't bother trying to fight him off anymore. She just leans her head against his chest and cries. Her boyfriend lifts her with ease and carries her to her bed. He sits with his back against the wall and she curls into him sobbing. When she calms, he whispers in her ear.
"I need you to understand this, Rachel. I'm not giving up on you. Or on us. I see a future with only you. I need you. I do love you enough to bear this with you. I also love you enough to let you go."
That reignites her tears and sends a spike of terror through her. "Don't! Don't let me go! Please, Finn!"
"I'm not giving up on you, I swear! Rachel, I love you. And I'll help you bear this. But right now, that means I'll help you deal with going home for a while. I'll—"
Rachel pushes herself off of him, hating how weak she feels right now. She's positive it's largely from the emotional toll of the day. However, she's sure everyone else will just see her as sick. Dying. When she's fully off of him, she rolls so that her back is to him.
"Go."
"Rach—"
"Go. Leave."
He sits beside her silently for a minute. She ignores him, her heart still stinging. In her fist, she twists the sheet and presses it to her mouth to hold back her emotions. The bed shifts as it loses his weight. She follows the sound of his shuffling feet as he walks slowly out of the room. There's a soft jingle before the mattress shifts again. Yero wiggles under her arm. She falls asleep crying into his fur.
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It's dark when she wakes. It'd been afternoon when she'd called for the family meeting. Now it's late. Her face feels gross from all the dried tears. Otherwise, she physically feels fine. She huffs, knowing they wouldn't believe her. She's fine. She stands with ease and walks into the bathroom to wash her face. There's talking from down the hall. She tilts her head, listening hard. And more talking downstairs. Rachel silently tiptoes down the hall towards Kurt's room.
"Yeah…..I agree. I hate it. I hate how upset she is, but I think it's for the best…..Yeah. It's—" he sighs deeply "—it's starting to wear on us…Thanks, Aunt Shelby. We'll get her packed tomorrow morning."
Stomach squirming and heart in her throat, Rachel spins and moves quickly but quietly back to her own room. She's breathing hard, but not out of tiredness. They're really doing it. They're really sending her away. She was going to have them all go to Dr. McCann and have him convince them she doesn't need to leave. She just had an appointment and at no point did he suggest she cut back! They're giving up. Tossing her aside so they don't have to deal with it. She paces her room, thinking hard. Apparently she's leaving tomorrow. So she only has tonight to either convince them otherwise or vent out her emotions. She doesn't want to fall apart in front of her mother. It'd just give credence to whatever Kurt's telling her. She has to show how strong she is. They have to see that she is strong. That she can handle anything thrown at her. The only problem with that is she has always felt that she was strong enough to handle anything because they were by her side. Now that they're not and she has to be strong on her own, she's less certain. Fuck it. Fuck all of it. Rachel quickly brushes her hair and pulls it up into a ponytail. She makes her clothes are neat and not wrinkled or anything, then pulls on her shoes, coat, and grabs her purse. Despite what they think, she doesn't have a death wish so she grabs her phone, too. She knows how to fucking take care of herself.
Yero, wearing his service vest, follows. He takes his cue from her, moving silently. She signals for silence and for him to stay at the top of the steps. After living in this house for months, she is very familiar with the squeaky stairs. She expertly avoids the noisy steps and makes it to the bottom silently. Carefully peering into the living room, she spots Finn. He's sitting in the dark living room alone, head in his hands. From other sounds, she can tell most of the others are in the kitchen. The coast is as clear as it'll get. She turns and signals for Yero to come down the stairs. Moving carefully, he does. As silently as possible, she slides the chain lock. That lock off, she freezes and listens. No disturbance. No one has noticed. Still tense, she slowly turns the other two locks. She opens the door just enough that she and Yero can slip out. The hardest part is shutting the door. Praying she won't be heard, she slowly leans back, pulling with her bodyweight. It didn't seem loud to her. She hopes it was just as quiet to those still inside. She hesitates again. If she doesn't lock the door, they'll know she left from just a glance. But locking the door could make a noise. She can't use the chain lock from outside, but maybe they'll just think someone forgot to put the chain lock in place. Maybe. Not wanting to spend long debating, she just goes ahead and locks the door. The moment she's done, she books it down the front steps and onto the sidewalk. Yero keeps pace as she jogs down the street. Once she's far enough she hopes she's not easy to spot, she slows to a fast walk. At the bus stop, she sits on the bench and taps her foot anxiously until the bus arrives. Every few seconds she peers down the street. No sign of anyone coming after her. Good. She bolts onto the bus the moment it arrives and finalizes her half-cocked plan. Mostly she just wants to get away from her street so she's out of sight. She gets off at the next stop and orders an Uber. They arrive fairly quickly and she's on her way.
"Yal'right, princess?" The driver asks. "Ya kinda look like yur runnin'."
She supposes she is. "No, I'm just taking a breather. My friends were being a little…..smothering."
"Sure, sure." He bobs his head. "Try'na get lost in a crowd. I get it."
"Yeah."
"Good luck to ya." He says as they pull up to the curb.
"Thanks."
Callbacks is open, but not as busy as she's used to it being. She's only ever been here on a weekend. It's Wednesday. There's only a scattering of people sitting around drinking and talking. Rachel storms straight up to the stage.
"Hey! Karaoke is on Friday nights!" A bartender calls.
"I don't care!" She calls back, too worked up to be her normal polite self. And she will not be denied. Not now. Not on this.
The man scoffs and shakes his head, muttering something about being sick of all the drama queens. She takes a seat at the piano and lifts the cover before yanking off her coat. Yero sits on the floor beside her, watching the others curiously as he usually does when they come here. She doesn't give it much thought, she just lets her fingers start playing. The lyrics aren't perfect, but they're pretty damn close. And the emotion behind it is perfect for this moment for her. And that's what she needs right now. To get that emotion out safely.
"Break down, tears fall to the ground
Tell myself, there was nothing can't be found
When you're a fighter
You're a fighter
You're a fighter, fight on baby
Some days I'm sure I lose to fate
Some days I cannot find my faith
But I just fight on
I just fight on
I just fight on baby, baby"
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Kurt walks down the hall with a heavy heart. He hates the thought of sending Rachel home. More than that, he's terrified that letting her stay will only make things worse. He needs her to understand that. There's a small part of him that's looking forward to her being gone. He hates that part of himself, but it's there. Things will be calmer and easier without her around. He viciously tells that part of himself to shut the fuck up. The door to Rachel and Santana's room is going to have to be fixed, but it's not a priority right now. He gently pushes it in and peers into the room. It's too dark to see inside. He steps in further and can just make out the lump on the bed. He sighs, debating whether to wake her to talk about everything tonight or let her sleep and talk about it tomorrow in the morning. Deciding he doesn't want their last morning together to be horrible, he goes over to shake her shoulder. His hand freezes in the air above a pile of blankets, not his sister.
Frowning, he leaves the room. The bathroom is empty. So are all the other rooms upstairs. Surprised she got up on her own already, he heads downstairs hoping she's calmer. Finn is pacing the living room. His poor stepbrother has been a mess since coming downstairs a couple hours ago.
"Hey."
Finn glances at him and nods, but doesn't speak. Kurt sighs, figuring Rachel still isn't talking to him. He heads for the kitchen. The others are finishing up dinner. The others, minus Finn….and minus Rachel. The room spins and he staggers back.
"Kurt?"
"Yo, what's wrong?"
"You okay?"
He sucks in a breath. "Where's Rachel?"
"What? She's sleeping."
Frantically, he shakes his head. "No, she's not. I was just in her room. It's empty. So is the bathroom upstairs and every other bedroom. She's not upstairs. And she's not here and she's not in the living room. So where the fuck is she?!"
Puck leaps up and jogs to the powder room. The door is partially open. He opens it all the way and turns on the light just to be sure. He comes back shaking his head. Finn walks in.
"What's going on? What'd you say about Rach?"
"She's gone."
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"And I am a wounded warrior
Now that the enemy's closing in
I am a wounded warrior
Looking for someone to let me in
I'm begging you
Take me in, I'm surrendering
Black and blue, but if I'm with you
If I'm with you, I'll live to fight on through
I let go, walk into the unknown
If I surrender, if I lay my arms down
Am I a fighter?
Am I a fighter?
'Cause I've been fighting so long baby"
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"Where could she have gone?" Brittany asks in a panic.
Everyone is clueless. They're scared. And guilty. The only reason she would have let without telling anyone, leaving a note, or bringing anyone with her, is because of how upset she is with them. In their attempt to protect her, they pushed her away. She's not answering her phone but they're relived she at least has it on her, as well as Yero. Kurt thinks hard, listing possible places in his head. Campus is his first thought, but everything would be shut down. Still, she could be wandering the campus looking for some fresh air and space from them. Besides space, she'd want to vent and the best way for her to—
"Son of a bitch." Kurt abruptly stands and runs for the stairs.
Finn grabs his arm, stopping him. "What?!"
"She needs to sing! She went to Callbacks!"
Santana frowns. "But it's not karaoke night."
Kurt looks at her incredulously. "You really think she'd let that stop her? This is Rachel Berry we're talking about!"
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"And I am a wounded warrior
Now that the enemy's closing in
I am a wounded warrior
Looking for someone to let me in
I'm begging you
Take me in, I'm surrendering
Black and blue, but if I'm with you
If I'm with you, I'll live to fight on through
I am a wounded warrior
Now that the enemy's closing in
I am a wounded warrior
Looking for someone to let me in
I am a wounded warrior
And now that the enemy's closing in
Closing in
Looking for someone to let me in oh, oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh
Looking for someone to let me in
I'm begging you
Take me in, I'm surrendering
Black and blue, but if I'm with you
If I'm with you, I'll live to fight on through
Black and blue, I'm begging you
Take me in, I'm surrendering
Black and blue, but if I'm with you
If I'm with you, I'll live to fight on through"
The song helped her expel some of her emotions, but not all. The lyrics weren't a perfect fit. She takes a cleansing breath. Only then is she aware of the applause. She gives them a quick nod.
"Sorry. I just need to vent and singing is the best way for me to do that." She explains to them.
"Sing it, girl!"
"Yeah, sounds like you're dealing with a lot. Sing it out!"
There's a few hoots and applause. Bolstered by support, she nods slightly. "Thanks. That song felt good to get out, but it wasn't a perfect representation of my current situation."
From the front of the bar, a group of people hurry towards the stage. The moment they spot her, they visibly calm down. Santana whips out her phone and makes a call. Probably to Sam and Brittany, the only two not there. Rachel narrows her eyes.
"But this next song is a hell of a lot closer to fitting my current emotional state."
Her friends slowly take seats, their eyes never leaving her. She won't let the emotion in their eyes stop her or make her feel guilty. Not now when she has to sing to let it all out. This song is practically perfect for the moment and exactly what she wants to say to them.
"No time for rest
No pillow for my head
No where to run from this
No way to forget
Around, the shadows creep
Like friends, they cover me
Just wanna lay me down
And finally try to get some sleep
We carry on through the storm
Tired soldiers in this war
Remember what we're fighting for"
Their future. All of them together. That's what she was fighting for and what she thought they were helping her fight for.
"Meet me on the battlefield
Even on the darkest night
I will be your sword and shield, your camouflage
And you will be mine
Echoes of the shots ring out
I will be first to fall
Everything could stay the same
Or we could change it all
Meet me on the battlefield"
That's what she wants to scream at them. "Meet me on the battlefield field." They can keep fighting this together. Please. Fight with me.
"We're standing face to face
With our own human race
We commit the sins again
and our sons and daughters pay
Our tainted history
Is playing on repeat
But we could change it if
We stand up strong and take the lead
When I was younger I was named
A generation unafraid
For the heirs to come
Be brave and
Meet me on the battlefield
Even on the darkest night
I will be your sword and shield, your camouflage
And you will be mine
Echoes of the shots ring out
I may be first to fall
Everything could stay the same
Or we could change it all
Meet me on the battlefield
We carry on through this storm
Tired soldiers in this war
Remember what we're fighting for"
But it seems her friends are too tired to keep fighting. They're giving up. But she won't. She refuses. Rachel absolutely belts the final verse, even managing to throw in a vocal growl.
"Meet me on the battlefield
Even on the darkest night
I will be your sword and shield, your camouflage
And you will be mine
Echoes of the shots ring out
We may be the first to fall
Everything could stay the same
But we could change it all
Meet me on the battlefield
Meet me on the battlefield"
The strangers in the bar applaud enthusiastically. She ignores them and looks to her friends. Her family. They sit as silent and still as a grave. All but Noah have tears glistening on their cheeks, but even he looks suspiciously glassy eyed. Tears, but no immediate support. They didn't join her in song. They're not getting up to talk to her now. They didn't applaud. They don't look guilty, just sad. It's truly over for them. She didn't think her heart could break any more, but now she's proven wrong. She turns her face away so they won't see it scrunch up in pain and assume she's having an attack. If that's how they want things to be, and they just want to let her go, then fine. So be it. If they're not going to fight for her, then she won't fight for them. Maybe she shouldn't even fight for herself. They've been fighting by her side all along, but without knowing what it's like for her. They don't know. Rachel puts her hands back on the piano. One. Final. Song.
"This last song I'm going to have to speed up just a little bit and give it more of an edge to make it better for me, but I'll do my best." It's a tad too calm for her needs. She needs to make it just a little edgier, a little louder, and a little angrier.
"I know you got the best intentions
Just tryna find the right words to say
I promise I've already learned my lesson
But right now, I wanna be not okay
I'm so tired, sitting here waiting
If I hear one more "Just be patient"
It's always gonna stay the same
So let me just give up
So let me just let go
If this isn't good for me
Well, I don't wanna know
Let me just stop trying
Let me just stop fighting
I don't want your good advice
Or reasons why I'm alright
You don't know what it's like
You don't know what it's like
Can't stop these feet from sinking
And it's starting to show on me
You're staring while I'm blinking
But just don't tell me what you see
I'm so over all this bad luck
Hearing one more "Keep your head up"
Is it ever gonna change?
So let me just give up
So let me just let go
If this isn't good for me
Well, I don't wanna know
Let me just stop trying
Let me just stop fighting
I don't want your good advice
Or reasons why I'm alright
You don't know what it's like
You don't know what it's like
Don't look at me like that
Just like you understand
Don't try to pull me back
Let me just give up
Let me just let go
If this isn't good for me
Well, I don't wanna know
Let me just stop trying
Let me just stop fighting
I don't want your good advice
Or reasons why I'm alright
You don't know what it's like
You don't know what it's like
You don't know, you don't know, you don't know
You don't know what it's like
You don't know what it's like
You don't know, you don't know
You don't know what it's like
You don't know what it's like"
There's no applause this time. The bar is dead silent. Some stare at her with mouths agape. She chances a glance at her friends. Santana has her hands clasped over her mouth. Noah is staring at the floor. Finn looks like he's staring at a ghost. Kurt is walking up to her. He sits beside her on the bench and says only one word.
"No." It's whispered, yet firm.
She uses the back of her hand to dry her cheeks as she whispers back just as firmly. "Well, those are the only two choices that I can see. Either fight with me or let me go."
Rachel snatches her coat off the floor and puts it on, roughly shoving her arms through the sleeves. Yero grabs her purse and she takes it from him. He follows as she storms out of the still silent bar. Her friends quickly follow behind. Their Uber is still waiting at the curb, so they all pile in. She makes sure to take the front passenger seat so that she doesn't have to be next to or even look at any of them. The ride home is similarly silent.
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When they enter the house, she immediately jogs up the stairs. They stand at the bottom and stare up at her in shock. She lifts her chin defiantly. Kurt tosses his hands up and scoffs.
"I can't." He heads towards the kitchen.
Rachel tosses her coat on the floor and kicks off her shoes. Her suitcase is on the top shelf of her closet where she can't reach it. Aggravated, she steps into the hallway. Sam is standing there awkwardly.
"Can you reach my suitcase for me? I'm too short."
He immediately jumps to attention. "Yeah!"
He easily takes it down and sets it on her bed for her. "Thanks."
"My pleasure, little lady."
She lifts an eyebrow. "John Wayne?"
He shrugs. "Not my best. I'm nervous. What the hell happened?"
She stares at him, debating what to say. "You all panicked, decided I'm far more sick than I actually am, and decided to send me home. I got pissed and went to the bar to vent."
"You sang."
"Yeah. You should have been there. They were good."
He grins. "I'm sure." Then he sobers. "In case you weren't at the bar, I checked your campus, then came back here. Britt stayed in case you returned home. We wanted someone to be here."
"In case I needed to be carried up the stairs?" She asks bitterly.
He sighs. "Can you blame us?"
"I can, actually."
"So you've never needed to be carried up the stairs?" He challenges her.
"That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying I don't need it all the time or even as frequently as you guys seem to think. Hell, sometimes I'd allow you guys to carry me even when I knew it wasn't necessary. You guys just seemed to want to."
He doesn't know how to respond to that. "I—I'm…..I'm sorry, Rachel. Really. We're just worried."
And worn out from taking care of her. "I know."
He leaves and she begins packing. Once her suitcase is stuffed, she grabs her duffel bag and starts filling that. Santana perches on her bed and watches her.
"You don't have to pack so much. You'll be back soon."
"Soon?" She gives Santana a disbelieving look. "You'll let me come back soon? How kind of you."
Santana scowls. "That's not—"
"Either way, when I do return, it might not be to this house."
"Stop being so dramatic."
"No!" Rachel throws down the brush she was about to pack. "You know what? For once, you're the ones being dramatic and I'm being reasonable. And none of you can see it. It's like group paranoia. You're feeding off one another."
The look on her face would amuse Rachel if she weren't still so upset. She resumes packing. Kurt enters the room and takes in the scene.
"So you'll go?" He asks quietly.
"Are you actually giving me a choice?" Back to bitterness.
He doesn't answer. "Did you mean that before? Back at the bar?"
"The two choices?"
"Yeah."
"Yes. Fight with me or let me go. You're choosing to let me go." They look down, guilt and shame filling both faces. She stops her packing to face them. "Answer me honestly. Is taking care of me really wearing on you guys?"
They share a look before slowly nodding. "A little. It's just starting to."
Rachel takes a breath, then nods as well. "Right. Well, did it occur to you that maybe if you realized I'm not as bad off as you thought and backed the fuck off it wouldn't be wearing on you so much?"
According to their dumbfounded expressions, no, that didn't occur to them. Rachel scoffs and resumes packing. Kurt picks up her laptop from where it'd fallen to the floor earlier in the day. Hitting a button wakes it up and he reads what's left of the email she'd drafted. She'd been interrupted while deleting it, but enough is there for him to understand what she'd been writing.
"Wait….you're planning on leaving permanently?!"
"No." She admits. "That was…..malicious compliance. I was just angry and giving you all what I thought you wanted to an extreme degree. Me gone."
"That's not—"
"Now if you would be so kind, apparently I have a flight to catch tomorrow so I'd like to get some sleep."
"Rachel—"
"Not tonight, Kurt. Go to bed."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sunlight is streaming into her room. Santana is on her bed playing on her phone. When Rachel sits up, Santana gets up and comes closer, prepared to help her stand if necessary. Rachel gives her a dirty look.
"This isn't gonna be too much for you, is it?" She asks nastily.
"Drop the attitude, Berry."
Rachel doesn't accept her help to stand. Santana clicks her tongue and steps back, giving her space. It doesn't take her long to get ready. She's just getting on a plane, so she doesn't care about looking good. She also decides to leave her suitcases up here and let them do the heavy lifting for her. Downstairs, Finn is making breakfast. Without a word, he sets a plate of eggs in front of her. She eats silently. She doesn't comment or argue when he shoos everyone else away. Finn takes a seat beside her.
"It'd be easy to cancel the flight." He says quietly.
"No one wants me to stay."
"That's not true." He argues.
"Isn't it? Last night you all made it very clear that you want me to go home."
"For a little while! To rest and get better. Not because we don't want you around."
"Isn't dealing with my illness starting to wear on you?"
"No."
He says this so firmly that she finally looks at him. She knows him very well. He means it. All it does it anger her more.
"Then why the hell did you agree to sending me home?"
"Why do I have to keep repeating it? To get you to rest!"
Rachel pinches the bridge of her nose. This argument is just going to keep going in circles with no real conclusion.
"I've been resting. Mostly because you all stopped letting me leave the class for anything other than school, treatments, and doctor visits. You didn't even take me out on Valentine's Day. I was hoping for something a bit more romantic or at least sentimental."
He gives her a weird look. "More sentimental than recreating our first date?"
That's when it hits her. The picnic on the floor indoors. The flowers. The candles. The music. Even the dessert he chose. It was a recreation of their first date back at McKinley. Feeling like an ass, she sets her fork down.
"Oh, God. Finn. I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I just thought you were keeping me home because you didn't think I was well enough to go to a restaurant."
"Well….. I did want to keep you home just in case. And I don't like fancy restaurants. I just figured if we were going to stay home, it'd be romantic and sentimental to redo our first date. I guess that didn't work."
"I'm sorry. I was so caught up in wanting a fancy restaurant that I didn't make the connection."
He gives her an easy grin. "It's alright."
His crooked grin makes her stomach swoop, then fall when reality crashes back down. She's leaving soon. They'll be separated. And he did nothing to stop it and still thinks it's for the best. She resumes eating in silence. Kurt asks her to come to the living room when she's done eating. When she arrives, everyone else is there. She sits and waits.
"We don't want you to leave feeling like we're refusing to fight this battle with you."
"But you are." She points out bluntly.
"We love you and want you to get better. We're just worried that we're not doing a good job taking care of you."
"You went overboard. Not under."
"We're starting to think that may be true."
"Well I guess that's something."
"I told the others what you said last night about the group paranoia. Feeding off one another. We realized there may be some merit to that." Santana admits, looking annoyed about it.
Finn clears his throat. "But that doesn't mean we're wrong that going home would be best for you. Just for a little while."
"Think back to my first diagnosis. Or last year after my second diagnosis. Or even this past fall. I had good days and bad days. I had good moments within bad days and bad moments within good days. But none of that meant I needed more care! It's all part of living with a serious illness."
Kurt looks desperate for her to understand. "I get that. We just…we panicked."
"I noticed."
"We've seen you push yourself. We've seen you keep living and keep going after ever obstacle. And while it's been inspiring to see, it's also worried us. Then all that stuff happened —" he waves his hand in the air "—and we got scared that you were getting worse and not letting yourself rest as much as you need to."
She nods. "Can I borrow your phone?"
Bewildered, he hands over his phone. She opens it and turns on voice memo. She uses her own phone to make a call. After a moment, she gets through the annoying phone tree and finally speaks to the receptionist.
"You've reached Dr. McCann's office, how may I help you?"
"Hi, is Dr. McCann in?"
"He is."
"Wonderful. Can I speak with him please? I promise it'll only take two minutes."
"And who is asking?"
"Rachel Berry."
"Very well. Please hold."
While elevator music plays, she stares at her friends passively. There's a click before a male voice speaks.
"Hi, Rachel."
Rachel hits the record button on Kurt's phone. "Hi, Dr. McCann."
"What can I do for you?"
"You reviewed my latest bloodwork. We discussed my stage and current symptoms. We also went over my newer issues."
"We did. Do you have more questions?"
"At this time, do you feel I need to drop out of college and return home to rest?"
"No, you do not. It certainly wouldn't hurt, but it's also not needed. If you feel it'd be best or even want to do that, I will support it."
"But is it medically necessary at this time?"
"No, it is not."
"At this time, do you feel I need to drop any of my classes or cut back?"
"Only if you feel the need."
"Thank you, Dr. McCann."
"You're welcome, Rachel." He responds, clearly bemused.
She ends the call and the recording before looking around the room. The others look abashed. Good. She allows the silence to linger for a moment, wanting it to sink in. They were wrong.
"So. I have my doctor backing up my claims. Leaving is not needed."
"I'm sorry, Tink." Kurt says, voice full of emotion. "We'll cancel your flight and let your mom know."
"My mom. Who wants me home. Whom you already told that caring for me is starting to wear on you? That woman? Yeah, she won't accept that. She'll still be expecting me."
"Please understand that we only decided this out of worry."
"But taking care of me was starting to wear on you."
"No."
"Kind of."
"Yeah."
"No."
"Sort of."
"Not really."
Rachel takes in a deep breath. "I love you. I don't agree with you. I'm angry and hurt. But I will leave. Not for me. I don't feel it's necessary. But for you, because I love you, I will go. When I found out I relapsed, I made a promise to myself that I would do whatever I had to do to make this easier on the people I love. To make sure you didn't become too stressed. Because it's you all who got me through the first diagnosis. And I know that was hard for you. So I wanted to make this diagnosis as easy as possible for you knowing you'd be doing whatever you could to make it easier on me. And you have. Up until now, but that's besides the point. If me leaving is what'll make you all feel better, then I'll leave."
"It won't make us feel better." Brittany insists. "We want you with us."
"Would you continue to be worried and stressed if I stay?"
They look around at one another. She can tell who it'd be a yes for. She doesn't need verbalization to confirm it.
"Right. So, to make this easier on you, I will go. You've been supporting me this whole time. Now I'll support you. I will give up my life here and possibly my place at a prestigious university for you. I'll let you stop fighting. I wish I had that luxury."
"We're not giving up on you." Kurt insists.
She looks at them stoically, holding back the wave of emotions that evoked. "You already did."
Their faces fall, a myriad of emotions displaying around the room. Kurt looks like he's about to fall apart completely.
"So. When's my flight?"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"What are you doing?"
"Packing. What does it look like?" Finn shoves another shirt into his duffel bag.
Rachel sighs and enters his room. "You're just accompanying me to Ohio then coming right back. You don't need anything more than a backpack to hold stuff to entertain you on the flights. You certainly don't need clothes."
Time to come clean. "I'm going back with you. I'm dropping out of college and going back to Ohio with you."
"Finn—"
"I'm not sending you back there alone and I'm not giving up on you."
"Finn, that'd be a waste of all your hard work so far this semester. If you drop out, it'll take you longer to graduate. You'll be miserable doing another semester here."
"I'll be miserable in New York without you!"
Her eyes read his. She always manages to read him. Usually it's comforting to know she can read him so well and really knows him and understands him. Sometimes it's disconcerting.
"Are you doing this because you hate New York and want an excuse to go back to Ohio, because you're afraid I'll break up with you if you don't, or because you don't want me to think you're giving up on me?"
His fingers twitch nervously. "Why can't it be all three?"
For several long moments, they stare at one another silently. Then she sighs. He hates that sigh. It means she's unhappy and possibly depressed.
"Stay. Finish the semester. If at the end of the semester you want to drop out and return to Ohio, that's your choice. It should have nothing to do with me. But at least finish the semester so that your work so far isn't for nothing. Finish your first year of college. God knows I might not get to."
With that, she leaves the room. Finn throws the pants in his hands against the wall.
"Fuck!"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Rachel doesn't hug them goodbye. She simply nods at them. Partially because she's still mad at them, but mostly because she knows she'll break down if they hug her. Kurt looks like he's seconds away from throwing himself either at her or into the cab with her. Thankfully Noah has a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. They'll be fine. Hell, they'll probably be better off without her around. The ride is silent. Finn spends it alternating between staring at his backpack and staring at her. She stares out the window, wondering when…..and if…she'll be back to this city. She hates that she tires while standing in line at the airport. Thankfully her suitcase is a hard case and big enough that she can perch on it. She does it in a way that implies she's bored, not tired, and hopes Finn buys it. While tiring easily is common and expected, she's still trying not to show any symptoms or weakness. He doesn't comment, but pushes her suitcase with her on it as the line moves so she doesn't have to get up. It makes her suspect he knows the truth but isn't pressing the issue. They finally head to their gate, where she turns down his offer of food or drink. While waiting, she sends an email to Madam Tibideaux and her other professors explaining that she is leaving the school temporarily. She keeps it simple and vague since she's not actually leaving for medically necessary reasons and has no idea when she'll be back. Or if. If she takes a turn for the worse, she knows her mother will keep her home.
Her emotions build up again on the flight. Watching New York disappear beneath and behind her has her gripping the arms of her seat and clenching her jaw. Her eyes sting. For them. I'm doing this for them. For them. After everything they've done for me, I can do this for them. She repeats this mantra over and over. It doesn't stop the ache.
"Are you gonna ignore me the whole flight?" Finn asks her quietly.
Rachel can't speak around the lump in her throat. Not wanting him to know how emotional she is again, she keeps looking out the window.
"Will you at least look at me?"
No. She'll fall apart. He sighs and gives up. She has Yero sitting in the seat between them to give her a little space. After a couple minutes, the lump has budged enough that she feels she can speak a little. She still won't look at him. She'll crumble. So she doesn't say anything. She's heard him. He thinks her leaving is best. She disagrees. He keeps pushing it, making her think that maybe her leaving is what's best for him.
They don't speak for the rest of the flight.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
They land, get Rachel's baggage, and find a place to sit while waiting for her parents to arrive. They'd arrived sooner than expected, so they know there'll be at least a bit of a wait. Finn ordered a small pizza for them to split. He's relieved she ate some of it. He wishes she'd speak to him. Or at least look at him directly. He returns the empty pizza dish to the counter and sits back down across from her. Her eyes are watching the people around them. It makes him think of the game they used to play; people stories. They'd come up with stories about the people around them. Sometimes funny, some ridiculous, some sad, some creepy, but always entertaining. He doubts she'd be interested in playing it right now. His leg bounces anxiously.
"I can't leave like this. I can't leave without you talking to me. You can't even bring yourself to look at me. This is killing me." He finally admits.
"I wonder what that feels like."
The initial wave of irritation is flooded out by guilt. "Please, Rachel. Don't do this. Don't leave it like this."
"Why? Because you know it could be anywhere from weeks to years before we see each other again?"
"It won't be years. I wouldn't let that happen."
"Unless it was detrimental to my health."
Finn's hands form into fists and his jaw clenches. "I'm not giving up on our future. We're getting married."
"Are we?" She asks lightly, still not looking at him.
"Yeah, we are." That's a given.
"They're here." She motions with her head, indicating her parents have arrived. They're standing a ways back, letting the couple continue their conversation.
"Did it occur to you that maybe the past month hasn't just been hard on us? That I saw it was hard on you, too? I saw how stressed and frustrated you were getting with us."
"But you did nothing to stop it. Because you thought it was for the best."
"That doesn't mean I liked it." When she doesn't respond, he changes the subject. "I'll come visit."
"Don't bother."
"Don't be like that. I love you."
Rachel finally looks him in the eye. "I love you too. So much. And that's why it hurts so much that you're giving up."
"I'm not—"
"Goodbye, Finn."
She walks away leaving Finn feeling lost and off balance. He works his jaw around, trying to maintain his composure. He watches as her mother reaches for her, but Rachel jerks out of her reach and never slows her pace. Yero trots along beside her. Mr. and Mrs. Matthews share a concerned look before Scott follows Rachel. Shelby goes to Finn. The sympathetic look on his face instantly has his eyes stinging. When her arms wrap around him in a warm embrace, he cracks. He breaks down sobbing in her arms.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I love her so much! I wasn't enough for her! I couldn't be what she needs. I need her to be okay."
"You did the right thing. It's okay." She murmurs, rubbing his back soothingly. "It'll all be okay."
Once he pulls himself together, he steps back and quickly dries his face. Mrs. Matthews stays with him, resting a hand on his arm. He clears his throat.
"Can I—Can I come visit? I know she's not—she doesn't want me around right now. But one day soon?"
"Honey, you can come whenever you want. She loves you, she's just struggling right now. Give her a little time and it'll all work out."
Desperate for that to be true, he nods. They hug goodbye and he watches her hurry after her family, who are already out of sight in the crowded airport. Finn wishes Rachel had been willing to hug him goodbye, but he doesn't blame her for not. His thoughts swirl. Were they right? Were they wrong? Is this all a horrible mistake? Will this help or make things worse? Hating that he doesn't know, his shoulders slump. Dejected, he grabs his bag and heads towards his gate. His next flight home is in an hour. No. Not home. Rachel is his home. He stops walking. He should follow her. He should stay with her. But she told him to stay in New York. She told him to leave. She doesn't want him around right now. His eyes sting and he clenches his jaw. He comforts himself with the knowledge that she looked him in the eye and told him she loves him. Not loved. Loves. He will carry that with him and let it hold him together until he can see her again. He pulls out his phone and sends her a quick text.
"I love you. I'll see you soon."
He wasn't expecting a response, but not even seeing the read message appear is disheartening. She won't even read his messages. For the rest of the hour, he scrolls through pictures and videos of her. In every picture, she's wearing her promise ring. He frantically thinks back to earlier today. Was she wearing it? Heart twisting, he realizes he doesn't remember. He hadn't noticed. When he'd brought up them getting married earlier, she'd responded with "are we?" Like it's no longer certain for her. What did she mean by that? He squeezes his phone so hard he hears a crack. He presses his forehead into his fists and repeats her words over and over in his head.
I love you too. So much. I love you too. So much. I love you too. So much. I lo—
Goodbye, Finn.
xxxxxxxxxx
A/N:
First song is "Warrior" by Sia
Second song is "Meet Me on the Battlefield" by SVRCINA
Third song is "You Don't Know What It's Like" by Katelyn Tarver