She can never stay mad at him, can she, that dopey grin, that permanent feigned good guy appeal, Finn Fucking Hudson. But if there was ever a time that she sat here and hated him truly, it's now, standing at a deserted station and watching Rachel's train fade slowly away. Oh there's relief but also anger, because with one simple stupidly heroic gesture Finn has bound Rachel to him with the kind of tenacity he must have felt, once, for her, Quinn. His hands are hanging limply at his sides and he kicks a stone, flinching at what must surely be a hateful gesture from her. Quinn understands selfishness but she understands selflessness better, and that's why when Finn begged her to help him, she complied. She had forced a smile on her face and said yes, Rachel should go to New York, screaming on the inside not because she knew with as much certainty she'd ever felt that Rachel's place was here, at some locker, singing her heart out in ways that made Quinn cry later, though it was true. No, it was because she understood Finn's desperate desire to make her happy. In some ways it had always been Rachel; sitting in the car next to a stuttering Finn, it was RELIEF she had felt, and watching Rachel perform and watching Rachel cry and watching Rachel oblivious to Quinn because she simply didn't factor into her thinking, and feeling Rachel's arms around her, because she felt sorry for her.
And looking in the mirror at that red and white uniform and knowing she'd got most of herself back but some part of it still remained in the hands of someone was disabled, for god's sake, she had been in a wheelchair and had a baby and had a crisis of faith, and barely any of it compared to the punch to the face she felt when she realised that the small girl who dominated her thinking not only was in love with her, Quinn's, boyfriend, and knowing that Santana, heartless bitch to the end, knew and would not say anything out of misplaced loyalty. Rachel, who everyone, everyone loved, could not return Quinn's steady and slow burning affection, instead, Rachel felt sorry for her. She can never stay mad at him, can she, that dopey grin, that permanent feigned good guy appeal, Finn Fucking Hudson. But if there was ever a time that she sat here and hated him truly, it's now, standing at a deserted station and watching Rachel's train fade slowly away.
Oh there's relief but also anger, because with one simple stupidly heroic gesture Finn has bound Rachel to him with the kind of tenacity he must have felt, once, for her, Quinn. His hands are hanging limply at his sides and he kicks a stone, flinching at what must surely be a hateful gesture from her. Quinn understands selfishness but she understands selflessness better, and that's why when Finn begged her to help him, she complied. She had forced a smile on her face and said yes, Rachel should go to New York, screaming on the inside not because she knew with as much certainty she'd ever felt that Rachel's place was here, at some locker, singing her heart out in ways that made Quinn cry later, though it was true. No, it was because she understood Finn's desperate desire to make her happy. In some ways it had always been Rachel; sitting in the car next to a stuttering Finn, it was RELIEF she had felt, and watching Rachel perform and watching Rachel cry and watching Rachel oblivious to Quinn because she simply didn't factor into her thinking, and feeling Rachel's arms around her, because she felt sorry for her. And looking in the mirror at that red and white uniform and knowing she'd got most of herself back but some part of it still remained in the hands of someone was disabled, for god's sake, she had been in a wheelchair and had a baby and had a crisis of faith, and barely any of it compared to the punch to the face she felt when she realised that the small girl who dominated her thinking not only was in love with her, Quinn's, boyfriend, and knowing that Santana, heartless bitch to the end, knew and would not say anything out of misplaced loyalty. Rachel, who everyone, everyone loved, could not return Quinn's steady and slow burning affection, instead, Rachel felt sorry for her.