Fic: The Past and Pending (1/?)
Title: The Past and Pending
Author: Maria/baggels
Fandom: Glee
Rated: T
Word Count: ~1,300.
Pairing: Finn/Quinn
Summary: The second time, it ended as quickly as it began. Finn and Quinn part ways and that's how it's supposed to be. Years later, they try to figure out why that had to be their fate. Futurefic.
Disclaimer: Obviously not my show.
PROLOGUE
Saturday, February 19, 2011
...
Rachel Berry is having a party.
Puck's idea, he knows it was. Finn had heard Rachel say in glee on Tuesday that her dads would be out of town for the weekend, and he certainly didn't miss the scheming wide eyes on his best friend. Well, old best friend. He doesn't really know where they stand these days… still.
By Thursday, Puck's spreading the word about a party at Berry's and that the whole glee club is invited. This includes Quinn and Santana, which shocks him a little bit, and even more so when he finds out that they both plan to make an appearance. He's invited, too, of course, and even though him and Rachel are in a weird place, he knows he should go, at least to pop by.
When he gets there on Saturday night, the party is already in full swing. Rachel opens the door, a great white smile on her face and a red Dixie cup in her hand.
"Noah brought some booze," she giggles. "Come in, Finn, come in!" Then she proceeds to grab his elbow and lug his gigantic form through the doorway and pulls him into the living room.
"Finn, this is the glee club. Glee club, Finn," she introduces, and he smirks at her. He cannot believe that Rachel Berry is drunk, or on her way there, at least.
He waves awkwardly at the party, the glee clubbers dotting the room in groups of two or three. He spots Mercedes without a drink in her hand and her mannerisms seemingly sober and he remembers her saying something about not drinking. She converses with Kurt and the guy he met when the Hudson-Hummel family went to visit his half-brother at Dalton Academy a week or so ago. Blair or Blaine or something. Rachel is attending to the snacks she must have laid out, refreshing the bowls of chips and candy, though it looks like they haven't exactly been appreciated much. He sees Brittany wearing only a bright pink bra, unbuttoned white shirt, and jean shorts dancing promiscuously on a table, while Artie flips bills at her. This makes him think of her, Quinn, because he remembers her slightly feminist views and all the ranting she'd done to him back in their pre-Drizzle days. He's sure she's got something to say about this, and his eyes immediately look for her.
It doesn't take him long, and he can see just her side through the kitchen archway from where he stands. His feet start moving towards her, and he tries, but he just can't stop the smile that pulls at his cheeks, giving famous dimples.
"Hey," he looks at her sideways as he passes her, pretending to get himself a drink from the mini-keg Puck had to have brought. She's wearing a strapless white and floral dress and her blonde hair is softly waved; he thinks she looks so pretty and fragile, he's afraid to get any closer.
She stirs at her drink, looking into it, then lifts her eyes and gives him a light smile. "Hi, Finn."
Her voice is very delicate, and she doesn't speak too loud, but he can also hear a faint rasp to it, and that reminds him. He had forgotten she and Sam had broken up, pushed it out of his mind because of the guilt. Before it'd actually happened, he only had one target and that was to make Quinn his again under any circumstance, but when she'd told him, in a single breath the same day after school, it cut at his gut. He'd realized the true implications of his actions and Quinn's conflicted face, as well as the puppy-dog-like sadness that had accompanied Sam for the entire week, had gotten to him. Sam was never a bad guy; he'd joined glee club knowing the social pariah status of it, defended Kurt's honour when Karofsky was being a douche bag, and treated Quinn the way she always had deserved. What he'd done with Quinn wasn't fair to Sam, and he knows that now.
After he fills his plastic cup halfway (he doesn't really drink a lot, either), he takes a sip of the strong, cheap beer and stands beside her, their arms just brushing each other. "So… how are you doing… and stuff?"
She shakes her head. "I deserved it. He was too good for me. He was perfect, and I - I hurt him really bad… and I can't believe I cheated… again." She speaks slowly and quietly, and the sound of blood rushing through his ears makes it even harder to hear her. But he hears every word, every pause.
Finn ignores the sting that burns at his insecurities, hearing in "He was too good for me" that Finn would just never be good enough, and how "He was perfect" just meant that Finn never would be. At this, he takes a large sip from his cup and never touches it again. He grinds his teeth down and clenches his jaw. He catches her looking off into the noisy living room, where the golden boy sits in a circle with the rest of the group, Santana wrapped around him cosily. He's smiling, genuinely smiling. Finn knows what he has to do, what this moment calls for, and it hurts already to have to do it. So he leaves a long gap in the air, lets time pass.
Finally, he swallows and looks at the ground. "This, uh, this isn't going to work… is it?"
Quinn bites her lip and uses the same strategy Finn did, giving their space time to clear. She rasps and still manages to keep her gaze off him, just as she has done their entire time here. "I wanted it to."
He nods and ignores the choking feeling in his throat. "Yeah, me, too."
"Not now," she says quieter, and their arms brush against each other again at her doing as she takes his hand, "Maybe… later."
Finn grips her hand a little tighter; it could be out of anger, the small feeling of it that he gets with this ending. He laughs, briefly and bitterly. "All that… mono and a break up… and all we get to show for it is a 'maybe.'" It isn't supposed to mean anything. He has no real ill feelings towards her, just loss, and loss is what chips away at him the most.
Quinn puts her cup down and moves in front of him, still clinging to his hand. She finally looks at him, right at him, taking in the freckles on his cheeks and brown eyes. "I don't like promises," she confesses. "I always end up breaking them."
In this moment, he can't figure out what it means, and it bothers him to no end. His mental capacity is down, along with his capability to just function, because all he can focus on is the tight, warm squeeze of her small hand in his and the feeling of it slipping away. She pulls away from him and he wants to do something, but he can't. (Something tells him that this is the way it has to be. He doesn't like that.)
Finn watches her walk away, out of the kitchen and past the party. She slips past Sam and Santana without a glance in their direction or in Finn's, opens the door up, and just leaves.
So that will be their ending: the leaver and the left. It follows the pattern.