FIC: On My Own (Chapter 3) (Glee)
Title: On My Own (Chapter 3)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,553
Characters: Finn/Rachel
A/N: First, let me apologize for lagging on this chapter. Unfortunately, I recently suffered a severe back injury and was placed on bed rest. And more recently (the last couple of days, in fact), I developed a bad case of the flu. As a result, writing became rather difficult. Luckily, though, not writing is sort of like not breathing for me. And as the_minsk can attest, I wanted nothing more than to get this chapter out for all of you. So here it is. I hope you enjoy it. ;-)
Summary: After graduation, they went their separate ways. What happens when fate intervenes and Finn and Rachel come face-to-face after seven years apart?
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One * Chapter Two
Nine Years Ago (Give or Take a Few Months) . . .
Finn Hudson shuffled slowly down the crowded hallway, his hands crammed into his pockets and a forced grin stretched across his face. He was surrounded by his fellow teammates - the football ones, not the ones that sang - and feeling more uncomfortable by the second. He didn’t get it, really. How was it that he could be with so many buddies, yet feel so alone at the same time? And why was it that they hadn’t even mentioned the . . . incident? I mean, it had been an entire day, but no one had said anything. Not even her. It was almost as if it had never even happened. It was almost as if he had never even kissed Rachel Berry.
For some reason, the idea made his stomach feel funny, and his forced grin quickly turned into a mild frown.
“What’s up with you, Hudson?” Murphy tossed the football at Finn’s head, chortling when the quarterback almost missed. “You forget to take your Midol today or something?”
“Cute,” Finn returned, smirking sardonically as he slung the football into the air. “Almost as cute as your homecoming date, Murphy.” When the other guys chuckled and elbowed him in the ribs, Finn’s shoulders relaxed. He seemed to have successfully diverted the conversation.
“Hey,” Murphy retorted, narrowing his eyes, “It’s not my fault Kim Chang came down with the flu.”
“No,” Finn replied, his smirk intensifying. “But did you really have to take your cousin?”
“Second cousin,” Murphy quickly corrected, aiming a well-placed kick at the back of Karofsky’s leg when the other football player let loose a loud guffaw.
“Well played, Hudson,” Karofsky stated, turning around to bump fists with Finn.
“Thanks.” Finn’s awkward smile returned the moment his knuckles hit his teammate’s. Something about this just felt wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it - he didn’t even really understand the problem - but it felt kinda like he was sliding backward, or like he was going backward through time. He had taken this monumental step. He had finally stood up to his fellow football players, and now he was . . . he was back to acting like a jerk again. What was it with him? And why was it that he suddenly cared? He had never cared before.
Suddenly, Rachel’s soulful brown eyes and gorgeous, radiant smile pushed themselves into Finn’s mind. And before Finn knew what he was doing, he was suddenly glancing around the hallway for his fellow captain. For the girl who had stolen his heart. For the girl who had somehow escaped him for the better part of a day. Finn’s brow furrowed when he realized that it was already lunchtime, and he still hadn’t seen her.
“So, tell me something, Hudson,” Karofsky interrupted his thoughts, pushing through a crowd of mulling students. “What was that yesterday?”
“Huh?” Finn responded brilliantly, tossing the football to another teammate.
“I mean, between you and that loud-mouthed midget,” Karofsky elaborated, coming to a stop by the slushie machine. “Please tell me that was some kind of joke.”
“Yeah, bro,” another teammate, Sully, joined in. “Was that some sort of weird dance move or something?”
Almost instinctively, Finn’s fists clenched inside his pockets and his lips curled downward into a fierce scowl. “She’s not a midget,” he said lamely, even when he felt himself wanting to say so much more. Even when he realized that this was it; this was the moment that Mr. Schue had told him about. The crossroads moment, when everything changed. And if he didn’t do or say the right thing, somehow Finn knew that he was going to regret it later.
“Whatever,” Karofsky dismissed his remark, grabbing a large cup and filling it with a raspberry slushie concoction. “Midget or not, that was still weird. I mean, tell me you’re not gonna try and tap that, man.”
“That Berry freak is such a loser,” Sully chimed in as he passed the football to Murphy, who nodded his silent agreement.
It happens in life that everything seems to come together or fall apart just when you least expect it. And in that moment, when Finn was trying to decide what to tell his buddies, he reached a turning point, entering his own personal crossroads. As Karofsky finished filling his cup to the brim, Rachel Berry came to a stop across the hallway. Finn’s chest clenched painfully when he glanced at her and realized she’d just heard their entire conversation. It clenched again when Karofsky noticed her, too, and a malicious smile snaked across his face.
“Here,” he said, pushing the cup toward Finn. “It looks like the freak’s in need of another slushie bath.”
Finn’s breathing turned shallow as he automatically accepted the drink, his own makeshift vehicle to navigating the tricky crossroads he’d suddenly encountered. This was it. Either he splashed Rachel with the slushie, ending all hope he had of pursuing a relationship with the girl who just might be his soul mate. Or he refused to do it, dashing all dreams he’d ever had of maintaining his cool image and popularity.
Turning slowly around, a slightly pale Finn Hudson faced an incredulous, distraught Rachel Berry, the slushie cup cool against his palm.
“Finn?” Rachel queried softly, her eyes wide as she studied her potential boyfriend.
“Hey, Rach,” he replied, his lips quirking upward into a crooked smile. “What’s up?”
~*~
The cool New York evening air whipped through Finn’s hair and assaulted his cheeks, turning them a rosy shade of red. Shuffling slowly through the theatre district, his hands crammed into his pockets and an apprehensive smile stretched across his face, a million thoughts coursed through his mind. A million worries hammered through his chest. Even as various patrons exited the theatre and made their way to their various hotels and homes, jostling him as he walked with aimless purpose toward the back of the establishment, he felt as though he were a million miles away.
He had seen Les Misérables every night that week. And even though he had abandoned the front row, even though he had taken refuge in the back seats of the orchestra section, he continued to experience a jarring electrical jolt every time she stepped onstage. Standing toward the rear, never in the limelight, her voice nevertheless filled every facet of the building. It flowed across the house, washing over the audience and filling him with an overwhelming sense of awe. It was almost as if he had never left; almost as if he had gone backward in time, and she was singing just for him.
Okay, yeah. That was definitely lame. But he couldn’t help the way her singing made him feel. He couldn’t help the fact that even after all this time, even after all these changes, it still got inside him. It still affected him in a way that nothing else had ever been capable of doing. She still affected him in a way no one else had ever been capable of affecting him before.
Perhaps it was for this reason that he couldn’t get her out of his head. Perhaps it was for this reason that he hadn’t been able to stop seeing her show. Perhaps it was for this reason that he finally found himself outside the stage door. And perhaps it was for this reason that his boss was starting to worry about him.
He had to admit that he hadn’t exactly been at the top of his game this week. He almost shuddered, thinking about the nearly botched meeting he’d had with Apple a few days before. Just before making the deal, he’d accidentally insulted the company’s CEO. Okay, so he hadn’t realized the woman wasn’t pregnant. And maybe he shouldn’t have asked her when her due date was. And it was possible that his mind had been wandering through the entire meeting, his thoughts continually returning to a certain petite brunette who was slowly returning to the center of his world (even if she didn’t actually know it yet).
But was that any reason for the CEO to tell him that she’d rather deal with Satan himself than have to talk to a moony-eyed teenager any longer? He honestly hadn’t been that moony-eyed. He’d just been a little distracted, that’s all. And not too distracted, either. He just hadn’t been able to get Rachel’s voice out of his head, nor had he been able to stop thinking about how awesome it used to be when they sang together. How alive he’d felt. How real everything used to seem. How much he used to care for one small girl.
How much he still cared for one tiny woman.
And besides that, he’d saved the deal. His boss had hired him because he was a quick talker, and had a way of making people feel good about themselves. This had been no exception. Rather than comment on the CEO’s rather large abdomen, he’d simply said that she glowed beautifully with an internal excitement. By the end of the meeting, she was eating out of his hand. So why was it that his boss suddenly had him on speed dial? And why was it that he seemed to be on shaky ice when a week before, he had been Finn Hudson, his firm’s shining star?
As if on cue, Finn’s cell phone began vibrating in his coat pocket. An inadvertent sigh escaped his lips as he reached into his leather jacket and extracted the offending apparatus. But just before he accepted the call, just before he raised the phone to his ear, he realized that it wasn’t his boss calling after all. The number flashing upon his screen had made an appearance a few other times this week, and each time Finn had declined acceptance, a guilty flush rising upon his face. And now that he was so close, now that the stage door was directly in front of him, he felt as though he were caught in a trap. Should he answer the call, preserving the potential relationship he knew was quickly fading? Or should he decline, allowing himself to delve into the potential relationship he desperately hoped to rekindle?
Finn’s chest clenched painfully as his thumb hovered between the green “accept” button and the red “decline” button. Finally, just as it was about to descend on the scarlet choice, the phone stopped vibrating and the call went to voice mail. Finn let out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding; a breath of relief accentuated by the squeaking of the stage door as it began to open.
“I’m telling you, man,” said one of the kids he’d seen the other night, “Missy’s gonna quit. She just can’t hack it here.”
“Oh, come on,” a woman shook her head in denial, “Her voice is incredible. She’s just sick of being upstaged.”
“You’ve got to admit,” the kid replied, smirking slightly, “Rachel has a way of taking over. She’s only in the chorus, but she’s already a total diva.”
“I think Rachel’s great,” said a boy that Finn recognized as Sammy. “She could sing circles around Missy.”
“Dude, you’ve really gotta quit it with the crush already,” the kid berated him, rolling his eyes. “She’s way too old for you.”
A deep blush colored Sammy’s cheeks, and he began to stutter. “Maybe she likes younger guys,” he said, staring uncomfortably at his shoes.
“And maybe you’re gonna win the lottery,” his friend elbowed him in the side.
“It could happen,” Sammy retorted, kicking at a stray stone.
Shaking his head as he leaned against the building, Finn’s lips quirked into a sympathetic smile. He had to hand it to her; it was easy to fall head over heels for Rachel Berry. A reality made apparent by the fact that he was currently standing by the stage door in the chilly New York night, hoping that she might eventually make an appearance. Because even after everything he had decided before, even after walking away on that first night, he knew now that he had to see her. He had to talk to her. He had to find out if it was still real, or if he was imagining all of this. He had to know if she still felt it, too. Because no matter what might have happened in the past, no matter how they might have broken up or how they might have parted, he had never stopped thinking about her. He had never stopped missing her. He had never stopped wanting her to be a part of his life. Even if maybe he still hadn’t admitted it to himself, he had never stopped caring about Rachel Berry.
So when the door opened once more, and the click of heels began to sound upon the pavement, Finn’s heart skipped a beat. And when he slowly turned around, and his cinnamon eyes latched onto her own soulful brown, his breath caught in his throat. Once again, he felt as though he was reeling backward through time, as if the past seven years had never happened. As if he was still Finn Hudson, high school quarterback and dating the most beautiful, talented girl in the school. It was only when a soft gasp escaped Rachel’s delicate mouth that he began to return to the present.
“Finn?” she queried softly, her eyes wide as she studied her ex-lover.
“Hey, Rach,” he replied, his lips curling into his familiar crooked smile. “What’s up?”
~*~
Nine Years Ago (Give or Take a Few Months) . . .
Rachel’s chest twisted at the sight of Finn Hudson - the very same Finn Hudson who had promised to be “that guy” only a day before - holding a cup brimming with a blue slushie concoction and staring directly at her. Glancing from the gawking boys in the background to the frosty cup in Finn’s large hand, her guarded gaze finally locked onto his own bewildered stare. And in that moment, as she looked into his bright cinnamon eyes, a million unspoken words seemed to pass between them. A million unspoken emotions seemed to reverberate through the tension-filled air. Confusion. Longing. Pain. Clearly, Finn was confused. Clearly, he still didn’t know how to stand up to his cruel peers. And clearly, he was considering splashing her with yet another slushie.
Rachel’s expression turned defiant as she continued to gaze into Finn’s eyes. “What’s going on, Finn?” she demanded, lifting her chin confidently when her voice emerged calm and unaffected. Even if she felt as though her heart might break at any moment, there was no way she was going to let Finn Hudson see it. Not this time.
“Um,” Finn stuttered, glancing at the slushie cup and back into Rachel’s flashing brown eyes. “I was just . . .”
“You were just what, Finn?” Rachel demanded, taking an instinctual step toward the boy. You can do this, Rachel, she assured herself, even as her hands curled into nervous fists. You can stand up for yourself. You’re smarter than all of his friends. You’re better than all of this. “You were just going to listen to your misguided adolescent friends and succumb to peer pressure yet again?”
“I was . . . um,” Finn looked at his friends over his shoulder, causing Karofsky to narrow his eyes. (“Get it over with, man,” the other boy urged, crossing his beefy arms over his chest.) A dejected sigh escaped Finn’s lips, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I don’t know what I was doing, Rachel,” he admitted.
As Finn’s features twisted into a look of pure misery, Rachel’s own expression softened as a twinge of sympathy reverberated through her slender frame. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” she confided, placing a hand on his arm. When Finn glanced at her hand in surprise, a gentle smile spread across her face. “You don’t have to listen to them,” she continued, wrapping her fingers around his heated skin. “You don’t have to be who they want you to be.”
She bit her lower lip, knowing there was more she wanted to say; knowing there was more he needed to hear. She could feel the fear coursing through her veins, the anxiety roiling through her gut. She was so afraid she was going to open her heart only to have it stepped on again. But even more powerful than that dread, even more powerful than the anxiety that Finn would find another way to hurt her, was the fear of losing this chance. The fear that if she didn’t tell him exactly how she felt now, she’d never have the chance again.
“We can walk away from this,” she found herself saying, gazing warmly up at him. “This is it, Finn. This is our opportunity to show everyone that we’re better than all of the threats, and the politics.” Taking a deep breath, she stood on her tiptoes so that she was looking steadily into his eyes. “This is our opportunity to be together. Please don’t throw it away,” she begged.
With her last few words, Finn seemed to snap from his stupor, blinking rapidly as he gazed at her parted lips. “I don’t want to throw it away, Rachel,” he confessed, his fingers flexing around the slushie cup.
“Then don’t,” her smile widened. “Just walk away.”
But: “I can’t,” Finn stated, leaning closer to her lips.
Rachel’s stomach dropped even as her pulse increased at the feel of his breath, warm against her cheek. “Why not?” she appealed.
“Because,” Finn said, dipping ever closer to her mouth, “This is my crossroads.” And then he kissed her, brushing his lips softly against her own, and winding his free hand around her small waist.
Rachel’s breath caught in her throat and her fingers found their way into his thick hair as the kiss increased in urgency, and Finn traced his smooth, pink tongue over her bottom lip. “Finn,” she breathed into his kiss, opening her mouth to allow him entrance. It was as if everything fell away - the teasing, the insults, the threats - and all that remained was him. All that remained was them, and the result was intoxicating.
It was only when Karosfky’s derisive laughter cut into the moment that the two finally broke apart, and Finn dropped his arm to his side as he turned around in surprise.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me, dude,” Karofsky shook his head in disbelief. “You really want to be with this thing?”
Finn’s wide eyes turned angry at the insult, and he set his jaw as he suddenly seemed to remember the slushie. Glancing from the cup and back at Karofsky, he made the slightest movement with his wrist. And as his fellow football player stared in disbelief, the frosty blue substance flew through the air and landed on his thick head. “Cut it out, Karofsky,” Finn ordered, reaching down to thread his fingers protectively through Rachel’s own. “She’s not a thing.” Looking at her, his lips curled into an affectionate smile. “She’s my girlfriend.”
At the words, a rush of warmth flooded Rachel’s chest as she squeezed his fingers, a wide grin forming upon her face. After everything they had been through, after everything they had accomplished to get to this moment, she realized she had never been so proud of the boy standing by her side. “Let’s go,” she suggested, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb even as the slushie continued to drip down Karosfky’s muscular back.
“Sounds good,” he agreed.
And as they walked down the hallway with hands intertwined, an aghast Karofsky shouting after them, Finn tossed the slushie cup into the trash.
~*~
Staring at herself in her circular mirror, Rachel slowly ran a brush through her long brown hair while attempting to ignore the flowers resting on her dressing table. She also attempted to ignore the box of candy, and the fluffy pink teddy bear, and the stack of cards that was quickly increasing in size. All from the same person. All with the same sentiment in mind. Every night, they came. And every night, Rachel tried to ignore them.
Harder to ignore, however, was the growing ache which reverberated through her chest every time she stepped on stage. She couldn’t quite describe it, really. She only knew that something was wrong. Something wasn’t as it should be. It was the same feeling she’d gotten on opening night. The same emotion she’d felt when she’d first performed. Rachel Berry had always been knowledgeable and in control; she had always known her own mind. So why couldn’t she figure out what was bothering her now?
Sighing deeply, she laid her brush down on her makeup stand and forced a bright smile into place. This was no time to be contemplating unknown feelings or unwanted gifts. She was a Broadway star (well, more like an understudy, but that was really just a technicality), and she had to deal with her adoring fans. (Okay, so she didn’t have too many fans yet, but her fan base would grow in time. And as any good Broadway star knew, the fan base cemented one’s rise to fame.) Nodding decisively, she pushed herself out of her chair and headed for the door.
“Night, Rachel,” a fellow chorus member waved at her. “Good job tonight.”
“Thank you, Nicole,” Rachel replied brightly, keeping her smile firmly in place. “You performed quite well yourself.”
Opening the door to the outside street, Rachel narrowed her eyes against the New York breeze and glanced at the congregating fans, preparing herself to sign playbills and programs alike. But before she could uncap her sharpie, before she could even approach the first person, she noticed a tall man standing near the front. And suddenly, everything stopped and the marker fell from her hand.
Rachel felt as though she were floating backward through time; as though the last seven years had been nothing but a dream, and she was suddenly waking up. Her hand flew to her mouth, her heart skipped a beat, her eyes continued to widen as she stared across a few feet of empty space and directly into Finn Hudson’s nervous, affectionate cinnamon eyes. It was as if she were in a different world, another dimension, and everything was exactly as she never thought it could be.
Stepping slowly toward the tall, muscular man, she barely noticed the overly excited fans congregating behind the stage door. She barely noticed anything at all. The only thing that permeated her thoughts, the only thing that registered within her mind, was Finn. Finn Hudson, just as she’d always remembered him and completely different all at the same time. He was wearing a suit, complete with pressed necktie and polished black shoes. His hair was trimmed and neat, and he was poised and confident. Gone was the letterman’s jacket, gone was the tousled hairstyle, gone was the awkward gait. Yet it was unmistakably him.
“Finn?” she questioned softly, gazing at him in wonderment.
“Hey, Rach,” he replied, his lips quirking upward into his familiar charming smile. “What’s up?”
“Is that really you?” she asked, nearly mesmerized by the sight of him. Is this really happening? Is Finn really here? Or is the rampant stress of stage life finally getting to me?
His laughter still took her breath away. “In the flesh,” he replied. His crooked smile broadened even as he studied her intently. “How have you been?” he asked, gazing deeply into her eyes.
Rachel had to suppress a sudden shiver at the weight of his stare. “I’ve been good,” she replied, blinking in an attempt to clear her head. “I . . . I’m acting in Les Misérables,” she said, blushing slightly at the simplicity of her statement. Clearly, Finn knew she was a part of the program. Why else would he have come to the stage door?
“I know,” Finn confessed, his own cheeks suddenly reddening. “I’ve seen it every night this week.”
Rachel stared at him in slight disbelief before her lips finally curled into a pleased smile. “What did you think?” she asked, taking an instinctual step closer even as her eyes remained locked on his own. She felt as though she could drown in those eyes; she felt as though she wanted to drown in those eyes. She’d never seen so much reflected in one person’s gaze.
“It’s okay,” Finn replied, shrugging as Rachel’s smile faltered slightly. “Of course,” he continued conspiratorially, his expression turning secretive, “There is one bright spot in the show.”
“Oh?” Rachel breathed, goose bumps breaking onto her arms at the look on Finn’s face. “What was that?”
“It’s more like a ‘who’,” Finn elaborated. She couldn’t help but notice that his hand fluttered by his side, almost as though he wanted to place it on her arm. She couldn’t help but notice how much she wanted him to place it on her arm. It really was as though nothing had ever changed. In that moment, with the adrenaline rush from the stage still fresh in her mind and an older Finn Hudson still clear in her sight, she seemed to forget why they had ever broken up in the first place. She seemed to forget that they had ever broken up at all.
“A ‘who’?” she prodded, her heart hammering in her chest as she took another step closer. “What do you mean, Finn?”
“Come on, Rachel,” he replied, running slightly flustered fingers through his hair. “You’ve always been the star of any show. Even when they stick you behind the scenery,” he added with a smirk.
“Finn Hudson,” she giggled, swatting his shoulder. “They do not stick me behind the scenery.”
“Oh, really?” he drawled, giving her a knowing look.
“Well, okay,” she amended, shaking her head. “But it’s just one scene.”
“Mmhmm,” he murmured, a glint of affection entering his light brown eyes.
“You’re incorrigible, you know that?” she stated, glaring at him playfully. “Positively recidivous.”
“I’m not quite sure I understand what you just said,” Finn said, looking suddenly bewildered.
“Have you ever?” she retorted, although a tender quality washed through her words. And before she could stop herself, she was suddenly reaching out to place her own hand on his arm.
Finn blinked at the movement, staring at her hand in mild amazement before returning his gaze to her own. “I’ve missed you, Rachel,” he stated, his voice slightly husky.
“I’ve missed you, too, Finn,” she admitted, tightening her grip on his arm. Every day, the thought came, and she found herself averting her gaze to his broad chest. When did Finn Hudson become so muscular?
“You want to get out of here?” he queried, swallowing nervously.
But he needn’t have worried. Forcing herself to look back up into his overpowering eyes, she slowly nodded. “Yeah,” she said, smiling gently as she moved her hand down his arm, linking her fingers with his own. “That sounds good.”
And as they walked down the vibrant New York City street with hands intertwined, exuberant fans chattering in the background, she began to wonder if the past seven years really had all been a distant dream.
CHAPTER FOUR
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,553
Characters: Finn/Rachel
A/N: First, let me apologize for lagging on this chapter. Unfortunately, I recently suffered a severe back injury and was placed on bed rest. And more recently (the last couple of days, in fact), I developed a bad case of the flu. As a result, writing became rather difficult. Luckily, though, not writing is sort of like not breathing for me. And as the_minsk can attest, I wanted nothing more than to get this chapter out for all of you. So here it is. I hope you enjoy it. ;-)
Summary: After graduation, they went their separate ways. What happens when fate intervenes and Finn and Rachel come face-to-face after seven years apart?
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One * Chapter Two
Nine Years Ago (Give or Take a Few Months) . . .
Finn Hudson shuffled slowly down the crowded hallway, his hands crammed into his pockets and a forced grin stretched across his face. He was surrounded by his fellow teammates - the football ones, not the ones that sang - and feeling more uncomfortable by the second. He didn’t get it, really. How was it that he could be with so many buddies, yet feel so alone at the same time? And why was it that they hadn’t even mentioned the . . . incident? I mean, it had been an entire day, but no one had said anything. Not even her. It was almost as if it had never even happened. It was almost as if he had never even kissed Rachel Berry.
For some reason, the idea made his stomach feel funny, and his forced grin quickly turned into a mild frown.
“What’s up with you, Hudson?” Murphy tossed the football at Finn’s head, chortling when the quarterback almost missed. “You forget to take your Midol today or something?”
“Cute,” Finn returned, smirking sardonically as he slung the football into the air. “Almost as cute as your homecoming date, Murphy.” When the other guys chuckled and elbowed him in the ribs, Finn’s shoulders relaxed. He seemed to have successfully diverted the conversation.
“Hey,” Murphy retorted, narrowing his eyes, “It’s not my fault Kim Chang came down with the flu.”
“No,” Finn replied, his smirk intensifying. “But did you really have to take your cousin?”
“Second cousin,” Murphy quickly corrected, aiming a well-placed kick at the back of Karofsky’s leg when the other football player let loose a loud guffaw.
“Well played, Hudson,” Karofsky stated, turning around to bump fists with Finn.
“Thanks.” Finn’s awkward smile returned the moment his knuckles hit his teammate’s. Something about this just felt wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it - he didn’t even really understand the problem - but it felt kinda like he was sliding backward, or like he was going backward through time. He had taken this monumental step. He had finally stood up to his fellow football players, and now he was . . . he was back to acting like a jerk again. What was it with him? And why was it that he suddenly cared? He had never cared before.
Suddenly, Rachel’s soulful brown eyes and gorgeous, radiant smile pushed themselves into Finn’s mind. And before Finn knew what he was doing, he was suddenly glancing around the hallway for his fellow captain. For the girl who had stolen his heart. For the girl who had somehow escaped him for the better part of a day. Finn’s brow furrowed when he realized that it was already lunchtime, and he still hadn’t seen her.
“So, tell me something, Hudson,” Karofsky interrupted his thoughts, pushing through a crowd of mulling students. “What was that yesterday?”
“Huh?” Finn responded brilliantly, tossing the football to another teammate.
“I mean, between you and that loud-mouthed midget,” Karofsky elaborated, coming to a stop by the slushie machine. “Please tell me that was some kind of joke.”
“Yeah, bro,” another teammate, Sully, joined in. “Was that some sort of weird dance move or something?”
Almost instinctively, Finn’s fists clenched inside his pockets and his lips curled downward into a fierce scowl. “She’s not a midget,” he said lamely, even when he felt himself wanting to say so much more. Even when he realized that this was it; this was the moment that Mr. Schue had told him about. The crossroads moment, when everything changed. And if he didn’t do or say the right thing, somehow Finn knew that he was going to regret it later.
“Whatever,” Karofsky dismissed his remark, grabbing a large cup and filling it with a raspberry slushie concoction. “Midget or not, that was still weird. I mean, tell me you’re not gonna try and tap that, man.”
“That Berry freak is such a loser,” Sully chimed in as he passed the football to Murphy, who nodded his silent agreement.
It happens in life that everything seems to come together or fall apart just when you least expect it. And in that moment, when Finn was trying to decide what to tell his buddies, he reached a turning point, entering his own personal crossroads. As Karofsky finished filling his cup to the brim, Rachel Berry came to a stop across the hallway. Finn’s chest clenched painfully when he glanced at her and realized she’d just heard their entire conversation. It clenched again when Karofsky noticed her, too, and a malicious smile snaked across his face.
“Here,” he said, pushing the cup toward Finn. “It looks like the freak’s in need of another slushie bath.”
Finn’s breathing turned shallow as he automatically accepted the drink, his own makeshift vehicle to navigating the tricky crossroads he’d suddenly encountered. This was it. Either he splashed Rachel with the slushie, ending all hope he had of pursuing a relationship with the girl who just might be his soul mate. Or he refused to do it, dashing all dreams he’d ever had of maintaining his cool image and popularity.
Turning slowly around, a slightly pale Finn Hudson faced an incredulous, distraught Rachel Berry, the slushie cup cool against his palm.
“Finn?” Rachel queried softly, her eyes wide as she studied her potential boyfriend.
“Hey, Rach,” he replied, his lips quirking upward into a crooked smile. “What’s up?”
~*~
The cool New York evening air whipped through Finn’s hair and assaulted his cheeks, turning them a rosy shade of red. Shuffling slowly through the theatre district, his hands crammed into his pockets and an apprehensive smile stretched across his face, a million thoughts coursed through his mind. A million worries hammered through his chest. Even as various patrons exited the theatre and made their way to their various hotels and homes, jostling him as he walked with aimless purpose toward the back of the establishment, he felt as though he were a million miles away.
He had seen Les Misérables every night that week. And even though he had abandoned the front row, even though he had taken refuge in the back seats of the orchestra section, he continued to experience a jarring electrical jolt every time she stepped onstage. Standing toward the rear, never in the limelight, her voice nevertheless filled every facet of the building. It flowed across the house, washing over the audience and filling him with an overwhelming sense of awe. It was almost as if he had never left; almost as if he had gone backward in time, and she was singing just for him.
Okay, yeah. That was definitely lame. But he couldn’t help the way her singing made him feel. He couldn’t help the fact that even after all this time, even after all these changes, it still got inside him. It still affected him in a way that nothing else had ever been capable of doing. She still affected him in a way no one else had ever been capable of affecting him before.
Perhaps it was for this reason that he couldn’t get her out of his head. Perhaps it was for this reason that he hadn’t been able to stop seeing her show. Perhaps it was for this reason that he finally found himself outside the stage door. And perhaps it was for this reason that his boss was starting to worry about him.
He had to admit that he hadn’t exactly been at the top of his game this week. He almost shuddered, thinking about the nearly botched meeting he’d had with Apple a few days before. Just before making the deal, he’d accidentally insulted the company’s CEO. Okay, so he hadn’t realized the woman wasn’t pregnant. And maybe he shouldn’t have asked her when her due date was. And it was possible that his mind had been wandering through the entire meeting, his thoughts continually returning to a certain petite brunette who was slowly returning to the center of his world (even if she didn’t actually know it yet).
But was that any reason for the CEO to tell him that she’d rather deal with Satan himself than have to talk to a moony-eyed teenager any longer? He honestly hadn’t been that moony-eyed. He’d just been a little distracted, that’s all. And not too distracted, either. He just hadn’t been able to get Rachel’s voice out of his head, nor had he been able to stop thinking about how awesome it used to be when they sang together. How alive he’d felt. How real everything used to seem. How much he used to care for one small girl.
How much he still cared for one tiny woman.
And besides that, he’d saved the deal. His boss had hired him because he was a quick talker, and had a way of making people feel good about themselves. This had been no exception. Rather than comment on the CEO’s rather large abdomen, he’d simply said that she glowed beautifully with an internal excitement. By the end of the meeting, she was eating out of his hand. So why was it that his boss suddenly had him on speed dial? And why was it that he seemed to be on shaky ice when a week before, he had been Finn Hudson, his firm’s shining star?
As if on cue, Finn’s cell phone began vibrating in his coat pocket. An inadvertent sigh escaped his lips as he reached into his leather jacket and extracted the offending apparatus. But just before he accepted the call, just before he raised the phone to his ear, he realized that it wasn’t his boss calling after all. The number flashing upon his screen had made an appearance a few other times this week, and each time Finn had declined acceptance, a guilty flush rising upon his face. And now that he was so close, now that the stage door was directly in front of him, he felt as though he were caught in a trap. Should he answer the call, preserving the potential relationship he knew was quickly fading? Or should he decline, allowing himself to delve into the potential relationship he desperately hoped to rekindle?
Finn’s chest clenched painfully as his thumb hovered between the green “accept” button and the red “decline” button. Finally, just as it was about to descend on the scarlet choice, the phone stopped vibrating and the call went to voice mail. Finn let out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding; a breath of relief accentuated by the squeaking of the stage door as it began to open.
“I’m telling you, man,” said one of the kids he’d seen the other night, “Missy’s gonna quit. She just can’t hack it here.”
“Oh, come on,” a woman shook her head in denial, “Her voice is incredible. She’s just sick of being upstaged.”
“You’ve got to admit,” the kid replied, smirking slightly, “Rachel has a way of taking over. She’s only in the chorus, but she’s already a total diva.”
“I think Rachel’s great,” said a boy that Finn recognized as Sammy. “She could sing circles around Missy.”
“Dude, you’ve really gotta quit it with the crush already,” the kid berated him, rolling his eyes. “She’s way too old for you.”
A deep blush colored Sammy’s cheeks, and he began to stutter. “Maybe she likes younger guys,” he said, staring uncomfortably at his shoes.
“And maybe you’re gonna win the lottery,” his friend elbowed him in the side.
“It could happen,” Sammy retorted, kicking at a stray stone.
Shaking his head as he leaned against the building, Finn’s lips quirked into a sympathetic smile. He had to hand it to her; it was easy to fall head over heels for Rachel Berry. A reality made apparent by the fact that he was currently standing by the stage door in the chilly New York night, hoping that she might eventually make an appearance. Because even after everything he had decided before, even after walking away on that first night, he knew now that he had to see her. He had to talk to her. He had to find out if it was still real, or if he was imagining all of this. He had to know if she still felt it, too. Because no matter what might have happened in the past, no matter how they might have broken up or how they might have parted, he had never stopped thinking about her. He had never stopped missing her. He had never stopped wanting her to be a part of his life. Even if maybe he still hadn’t admitted it to himself, he had never stopped caring about Rachel Berry.
So when the door opened once more, and the click of heels began to sound upon the pavement, Finn’s heart skipped a beat. And when he slowly turned around, and his cinnamon eyes latched onto her own soulful brown, his breath caught in his throat. Once again, he felt as though he was reeling backward through time, as if the past seven years had never happened. As if he was still Finn Hudson, high school quarterback and dating the most beautiful, talented girl in the school. It was only when a soft gasp escaped Rachel’s delicate mouth that he began to return to the present.
“Finn?” she queried softly, her eyes wide as she studied her ex-lover.
“Hey, Rach,” he replied, his lips curling into his familiar crooked smile. “What’s up?”
~*~
Nine Years Ago (Give or Take a Few Months) . . .
Rachel’s chest twisted at the sight of Finn Hudson - the very same Finn Hudson who had promised to be “that guy” only a day before - holding a cup brimming with a blue slushie concoction and staring directly at her. Glancing from the gawking boys in the background to the frosty cup in Finn’s large hand, her guarded gaze finally locked onto his own bewildered stare. And in that moment, as she looked into his bright cinnamon eyes, a million unspoken words seemed to pass between them. A million unspoken emotions seemed to reverberate through the tension-filled air. Confusion. Longing. Pain. Clearly, Finn was confused. Clearly, he still didn’t know how to stand up to his cruel peers. And clearly, he was considering splashing her with yet another slushie.
Rachel’s expression turned defiant as she continued to gaze into Finn’s eyes. “What’s going on, Finn?” she demanded, lifting her chin confidently when her voice emerged calm and unaffected. Even if she felt as though her heart might break at any moment, there was no way she was going to let Finn Hudson see it. Not this time.
“Um,” Finn stuttered, glancing at the slushie cup and back into Rachel’s flashing brown eyes. “I was just . . .”
“You were just what, Finn?” Rachel demanded, taking an instinctual step toward the boy. You can do this, Rachel, she assured herself, even as her hands curled into nervous fists. You can stand up for yourself. You’re smarter than all of his friends. You’re better than all of this. “You were just going to listen to your misguided adolescent friends and succumb to peer pressure yet again?”
“I was . . . um,” Finn looked at his friends over his shoulder, causing Karofsky to narrow his eyes. (“Get it over with, man,” the other boy urged, crossing his beefy arms over his chest.) A dejected sigh escaped Finn’s lips, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I don’t know what I was doing, Rachel,” he admitted.
As Finn’s features twisted into a look of pure misery, Rachel’s own expression softened as a twinge of sympathy reverberated through her slender frame. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” she confided, placing a hand on his arm. When Finn glanced at her hand in surprise, a gentle smile spread across her face. “You don’t have to listen to them,” she continued, wrapping her fingers around his heated skin. “You don’t have to be who they want you to be.”
She bit her lower lip, knowing there was more she wanted to say; knowing there was more he needed to hear. She could feel the fear coursing through her veins, the anxiety roiling through her gut. She was so afraid she was going to open her heart only to have it stepped on again. But even more powerful than that dread, even more powerful than the anxiety that Finn would find another way to hurt her, was the fear of losing this chance. The fear that if she didn’t tell him exactly how she felt now, she’d never have the chance again.
“We can walk away from this,” she found herself saying, gazing warmly up at him. “This is it, Finn. This is our opportunity to show everyone that we’re better than all of the threats, and the politics.” Taking a deep breath, she stood on her tiptoes so that she was looking steadily into his eyes. “This is our opportunity to be together. Please don’t throw it away,” she begged.
With her last few words, Finn seemed to snap from his stupor, blinking rapidly as he gazed at her parted lips. “I don’t want to throw it away, Rachel,” he confessed, his fingers flexing around the slushie cup.
“Then don’t,” her smile widened. “Just walk away.”
But: “I can’t,” Finn stated, leaning closer to her lips.
Rachel’s stomach dropped even as her pulse increased at the feel of his breath, warm against her cheek. “Why not?” she appealed.
“Because,” Finn said, dipping ever closer to her mouth, “This is my crossroads.” And then he kissed her, brushing his lips softly against her own, and winding his free hand around her small waist.
Rachel’s breath caught in her throat and her fingers found their way into his thick hair as the kiss increased in urgency, and Finn traced his smooth, pink tongue over her bottom lip. “Finn,” she breathed into his kiss, opening her mouth to allow him entrance. It was as if everything fell away - the teasing, the insults, the threats - and all that remained was him. All that remained was them, and the result was intoxicating.
It was only when Karosfky’s derisive laughter cut into the moment that the two finally broke apart, and Finn dropped his arm to his side as he turned around in surprise.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me, dude,” Karofsky shook his head in disbelief. “You really want to be with this thing?”
Finn’s wide eyes turned angry at the insult, and he set his jaw as he suddenly seemed to remember the slushie. Glancing from the cup and back at Karofsky, he made the slightest movement with his wrist. And as his fellow football player stared in disbelief, the frosty blue substance flew through the air and landed on his thick head. “Cut it out, Karofsky,” Finn ordered, reaching down to thread his fingers protectively through Rachel’s own. “She’s not a thing.” Looking at her, his lips curled into an affectionate smile. “She’s my girlfriend.”
At the words, a rush of warmth flooded Rachel’s chest as she squeezed his fingers, a wide grin forming upon her face. After everything they had been through, after everything they had accomplished to get to this moment, she realized she had never been so proud of the boy standing by her side. “Let’s go,” she suggested, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb even as the slushie continued to drip down Karosfky’s muscular back.
“Sounds good,” he agreed.
And as they walked down the hallway with hands intertwined, an aghast Karofsky shouting after them, Finn tossed the slushie cup into the trash.
~*~
Staring at herself in her circular mirror, Rachel slowly ran a brush through her long brown hair while attempting to ignore the flowers resting on her dressing table. She also attempted to ignore the box of candy, and the fluffy pink teddy bear, and the stack of cards that was quickly increasing in size. All from the same person. All with the same sentiment in mind. Every night, they came. And every night, Rachel tried to ignore them.
Harder to ignore, however, was the growing ache which reverberated through her chest every time she stepped on stage. She couldn’t quite describe it, really. She only knew that something was wrong. Something wasn’t as it should be. It was the same feeling she’d gotten on opening night. The same emotion she’d felt when she’d first performed. Rachel Berry had always been knowledgeable and in control; she had always known her own mind. So why couldn’t she figure out what was bothering her now?
Sighing deeply, she laid her brush down on her makeup stand and forced a bright smile into place. This was no time to be contemplating unknown feelings or unwanted gifts. She was a Broadway star (well, more like an understudy, but that was really just a technicality), and she had to deal with her adoring fans. (Okay, so she didn’t have too many fans yet, but her fan base would grow in time. And as any good Broadway star knew, the fan base cemented one’s rise to fame.) Nodding decisively, she pushed herself out of her chair and headed for the door.
“Night, Rachel,” a fellow chorus member waved at her. “Good job tonight.”
“Thank you, Nicole,” Rachel replied brightly, keeping her smile firmly in place. “You performed quite well yourself.”
Opening the door to the outside street, Rachel narrowed her eyes against the New York breeze and glanced at the congregating fans, preparing herself to sign playbills and programs alike. But before she could uncap her sharpie, before she could even approach the first person, she noticed a tall man standing near the front. And suddenly, everything stopped and the marker fell from her hand.
Rachel felt as though she were floating backward through time; as though the last seven years had been nothing but a dream, and she was suddenly waking up. Her hand flew to her mouth, her heart skipped a beat, her eyes continued to widen as she stared across a few feet of empty space and directly into Finn Hudson’s nervous, affectionate cinnamon eyes. It was as if she were in a different world, another dimension, and everything was exactly as she never thought it could be.
Stepping slowly toward the tall, muscular man, she barely noticed the overly excited fans congregating behind the stage door. She barely noticed anything at all. The only thing that permeated her thoughts, the only thing that registered within her mind, was Finn. Finn Hudson, just as she’d always remembered him and completely different all at the same time. He was wearing a suit, complete with pressed necktie and polished black shoes. His hair was trimmed and neat, and he was poised and confident. Gone was the letterman’s jacket, gone was the tousled hairstyle, gone was the awkward gait. Yet it was unmistakably him.
“Finn?” she questioned softly, gazing at him in wonderment.
“Hey, Rach,” he replied, his lips quirking upward into his familiar charming smile. “What’s up?”
“Is that really you?” she asked, nearly mesmerized by the sight of him. Is this really happening? Is Finn really here? Or is the rampant stress of stage life finally getting to me?
His laughter still took her breath away. “In the flesh,” he replied. His crooked smile broadened even as he studied her intently. “How have you been?” he asked, gazing deeply into her eyes.
Rachel had to suppress a sudden shiver at the weight of his stare. “I’ve been good,” she replied, blinking in an attempt to clear her head. “I . . . I’m acting in Les Misérables,” she said, blushing slightly at the simplicity of her statement. Clearly, Finn knew she was a part of the program. Why else would he have come to the stage door?
“I know,” Finn confessed, his own cheeks suddenly reddening. “I’ve seen it every night this week.”
Rachel stared at him in slight disbelief before her lips finally curled into a pleased smile. “What did you think?” she asked, taking an instinctual step closer even as her eyes remained locked on his own. She felt as though she could drown in those eyes; she felt as though she wanted to drown in those eyes. She’d never seen so much reflected in one person’s gaze.
“It’s okay,” Finn replied, shrugging as Rachel’s smile faltered slightly. “Of course,” he continued conspiratorially, his expression turning secretive, “There is one bright spot in the show.”
“Oh?” Rachel breathed, goose bumps breaking onto her arms at the look on Finn’s face. “What was that?”
“It’s more like a ‘who’,” Finn elaborated. She couldn’t help but notice that his hand fluttered by his side, almost as though he wanted to place it on her arm. She couldn’t help but notice how much she wanted him to place it on her arm. It really was as though nothing had ever changed. In that moment, with the adrenaline rush from the stage still fresh in her mind and an older Finn Hudson still clear in her sight, she seemed to forget why they had ever broken up in the first place. She seemed to forget that they had ever broken up at all.
“A ‘who’?” she prodded, her heart hammering in her chest as she took another step closer. “What do you mean, Finn?”
“Come on, Rachel,” he replied, running slightly flustered fingers through his hair. “You’ve always been the star of any show. Even when they stick you behind the scenery,” he added with a smirk.
“Finn Hudson,” she giggled, swatting his shoulder. “They do not stick me behind the scenery.”
“Oh, really?” he drawled, giving her a knowing look.
“Well, okay,” she amended, shaking her head. “But it’s just one scene.”
“Mmhmm,” he murmured, a glint of affection entering his light brown eyes.
“You’re incorrigible, you know that?” she stated, glaring at him playfully. “Positively recidivous.”
“I’m not quite sure I understand what you just said,” Finn said, looking suddenly bewildered.
“Have you ever?” she retorted, although a tender quality washed through her words. And before she could stop herself, she was suddenly reaching out to place her own hand on his arm.
Finn blinked at the movement, staring at her hand in mild amazement before returning his gaze to her own. “I’ve missed you, Rachel,” he stated, his voice slightly husky.
“I’ve missed you, too, Finn,” she admitted, tightening her grip on his arm. Every day, the thought came, and she found herself averting her gaze to his broad chest. When did Finn Hudson become so muscular?
“You want to get out of here?” he queried, swallowing nervously.
But he needn’t have worried. Forcing herself to look back up into his overpowering eyes, she slowly nodded. “Yeah,” she said, smiling gently as she moved her hand down his arm, linking her fingers with his own. “That sounds good.”
And as they walked down the vibrant New York City street with hands intertwined, exuberant fans chattering in the background, she began to wonder if the past seven years really had all been a distant dream.
CHAPTER FOUR