These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot eraseWhen you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

He has a picture of her in his side table drawer. He likes to look at it when he can't sleep. He imagines his arms around her, her soft hair against his cheek. He can see her in the corner chair of his room, her feet tucked under her, laughing at something he's said. Her lip balm still sits at his desk; cherry flavored (his favorite) and her red cardigan sweater is safely tucked under his pillow. It still smells like her ... sometimes he'll just lay there and breathe her in. It's been ninety days. Ninety days since he put her on the train. Ninety days.

She wears one of his old McKinley Athletic t shirts to bed every night. It's soft and the words are fading, but it feels like home. It feels like Finn. Sometimes she thinks she can feel his breath on her neck; his hands softly caressing the skin of her back. She craves it … the nearness of him, the warmth, his love. In every dream, every fantasy he was always with her and now she feels an emptiness where he once was. A hole in her heart that just doesn't seem to get smaller or hurt less. It's been ninety days. Ninety days since she last saw Finn. Ninety days.

He listens to his mom cry herself to sleep the night he tells them. He feels he has to do this, that it is the only way to redeem his father. His legacy. She begs him not to, clinging tightly to him, whispering over and over again, "My baby."

She doesn't go to work the next day. She doesn't even come out of her room. He knocks on her door and Burt answers. "She just fell asleep, Finn. Why don't we go downstairs so we can talk." Burt puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes lightly.

"So, tell me Finn. Do you really want to join the Army?" Burt asks. "I thought you wanted to go to drama school. I thought you wanted to be an actor?"

"I wasn't good enough," he says softly. "I didn't get in. I need to do this Burt; I keep feeling that if I do this; right this wrong, that things will be better. That it will put things on track for me."

"You're not your father, Finn. He's gone. You're here. So you didn't get in … try again. Try somewhere else. You don't give up on your dreams. You are good enough. You have always been good enough. You just have to make other people see it. Look, I've made a few calls to Washington and I think I may be able to help with the situation about your father." So, do what you have to do to make your dreams happen and then you go to New York. You go to New York and you find her. You find her and you never let go of her again. Do you understand what I'm saying? I've been watching you these last few months. You aren't living. You're going through the motions, but you aren't really living. I did that for years and it is miserable. Follow your dreams Finn and I'll guarantee it will take you to New York and to Rachel Berry.

He dreams of her again that night. He dreams of gold stars and knee socks, of a comfy one bedroom loft filled with the scent of banana bread. He dreams of waking up to her laughter and her singing in the shower. He dreams of Rachel, his Rachel and how perfect their life would be. He doesn't want to wake up. He wants to stay there forever, in the arms of the girl he loves. In the arms of his star.

He apples to LCC the next day, concentrating mostly on his general studies classes. If he's lucky he can get in winter quarter and hopefully be able to transfer to NYU in the fall. He's done his research this time. NYU has a wonderful drama program. Burt was right. He needed to follow his dreams. He needed to get to New York.

She comes home for Thanksgiving. She drives past the tire shop at least a dozen times, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury's wedding is just a few days away; but she just can't wait. It's late, but there is still a light on in the shop. She wills herself to the window and sees him, grease on his nose, wrench in his hands and she feels the tears well up in her eyes. Finn. The crack of thunder makes her jump and elicits a small squeal from her as she sees him turn to the window. Her hand instinctively goes to the glass as the heavens open up above her and the rain falls in sheets, all around her.

She watches as he blinks several times at her, his mouth slightly open. The wrench falls from his hand as he slowly walks to the window. His hand mirrors hers as his breath fogs the glass. She smiles through her tears and the rain and mouths a soft "Hi." Before she knows it, he's outside; his arms around her, lifting her to meet his lips. She closes her eyes as the warmth of his tongue circles her mouth. Home. His hands move to her hair as he pulls back to look at her again.

"You're here," he whispers his thumb wiping the water from her cheek.

She flushes as she raises her fingers to his lips. "I've missed you," she says softly. "So much." His eyes soften and she wants to tell him. Tell him how she feels incomplete without him. How much she hated waking up every morning knowing he wasn't there, the hollow emptiness, the memory of him nagging at her heart, but she can't find the words. He turns, his hand reaching for hers as he leads her back to the garage.

No sooner does the door close before he pulls her into his arms, grabbing her head between his hands, examining her face closely.

"I love you," he whispers softly. She tries to speak, but he stops her placing a finger against her lips.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I should have been with you. I never should have let you get on that train without me. I went looking for my dreams outside myself when they were right in front of me. You always knew that. You never doubted me and I shouldn't of doubted myself. I need you Rachel, I'm just not myself without you."

Overwhelmed, a strangled sob escapes her. "Thank God, " she cries, pounding her fists into his chest. "Don't ever do that to me again Finn Hudson. Don't you ever leave me again." "I can't imagine living my life the way I have for the past three months. From the moment I met you, I knew. I knew we were meant to do this together."

He pulls her close as she curls her arms around him, sobbing quietly into his chest.

"Baby, please don't cry," he says, burying his nose in her hair, holding her tight, neither of them saying another word, just holding each other.

Then his mouth is on hers and his hand moves into her hair, holding her in place. His tongue slides over hers and she welcomes it mewling wantonly into his mouth. He groans at her fevered response, low and deep in his throat. His hand moves down her body, brushing her breast with his palm. He leans back to gaze at her, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Here?" he asks softly.

"Yes," she replies. She smiles sheepishly looking up at him. "It's always sort of been a fantasy of mine, actually. You in those coveralls and me here in the garage."

He tilts his head to one side as his sweet lopsided grin spreads across his face. "Well, Ms. Berry, I would be happy to fulfill that fantasy." He caresses her face, his long fingers stroking her cheek. He leans down and kisses her gently, sucking on her lower lip. She moans; and he smiles triumphantly; she's never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

"Let's get you out of these wet clothes," he says softly taking a hold of the hem of her dress, gently pulling it over her head and letting it fall to ground.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Rachel Berry?" Her breath hitches at his touch. He places feather soft kisses across her jaw and chin before pressing his lips firmly on hers. His kiss is demanding, his tongue and lips coaxing hers. Her fingers move to the buttons of his coveralls, opening them with ease, and quickly pushing it past his shoulders. She tugs at his undershirt, peeling it off of him hastily. She hears him groan at the contact of their skin and desire pools white hot in the deepest part of her. He holds her against his hips and she can feel how much he wants her. She moves her hands to his face and into his hair tugging at it while peppering his chest with her lips.

He drops to his knees in front of her skimming his lips across her stomach as his hands move to her hips guiding the waistband of her panties down her legs. She shivers beneath his hands, never wanting him more then she did at that moment.

He looks at her through his lashes, "I can't wait to be inside you, Rachel" He lays her down on the cold concrete of the shop floor taking her breast into his hand tugging gently at her nipple as it hardens beneath his thumb. He blows gently on her other breast before taking it into his mouth swirling his tongue around it. When his teeth gently clamp down on her, she nearly convulses from the pleasure. Her head drops back and her mouth opens as she moans his name.

"Finn, please …" she begs.

Hie palm rubs against her, circling her clit. He puts his finger inside her and immediately groans as her back arches to meet his touch.

"Oh God baby, you're so wet." He moves between her, spreading her legs further apart. She pulls her knees up along his sides and they both moan as he enters her slowly, exquisitely. He closes his eyes as he thrusts into her again.

"Yes," she moans pulling him closer to her.. She feels it building as he moves within her; each thrust bringing her closer to the edge. She feels herself stiffen as he thrusts on and on. Her body shivers arching toward him. She explodes all around him, her walls pulsing as he spills into her.

He brings her home that night. Everyone is asleep, so they tip toe quietly up the stairs into his room. They shower and snuggle into his bed.

"Are you sure, Finn?" she asks tentatively. He pulls her tighter to him, burying his chin into her neck.

"I've never been more sure of anything ever," he says smiling. and for the first time in ninety days, he looks forward to his future.

fin

Reviews are love and are welcomed and appreciated. Would love to hear your feedback!