A/N: Finchely oneshot! Takes place in Special Education in the green room scene. And um, we're ignoring the Puckleberry thing because if this actually happened in the show, then that never would have come up! Okay? Okay!

Mega thanks to tjcrowfoot for being my beta and for being awesome. Anyway, I'd really appreciate your thoughts on this piece because I'm using this as a way to stay sane from the Finchel sadness.

Disclaimer: Don't own.


Did he tell Kurt? Hell if he knows. He doesn't see why he would tell Kurt though. Does it even really matter? No matter what he says, she's still gonna be pissed and she's still not gonna understand that if there's any one thing he wants to take back, it's that.

He sighs and rubs a hand across his forehead. Good, let's take a shitty situation and make it worse. Fuck Santana (no, not in that way, you asshole) for letting it get around. What does she want with him, anyway? Like, he'd been kinda proud (and turned on) when Rachel started going off on Santana the other day. Until Santana had to open her big stupid fucking mouth and make him sound like a scumbag. Shit and Rachel wants to know why everyone already knows and she kinda glances at him, but it's not like he has any answers. Except that Santana told someone and someone told all the other someones except Rachel.

So what's Santana do? She goes and ruins everything. Again. Why's she always telling Rachel that no one likes her? One, it's not true. At all. 'Cause he likes her. He loves her. And he knows Santana knows Rachel has these insecurities and Santana's just like…evil 'cause she plays on that and preys on Rachel. He's been using the past, like, however many months working really hard to show Rachel how amazing beautiful awesome perfect totally worth it she is. And fuck him, but he's been pretty sure it was working. So leave it to the bane of his existence over the past two weeks to just completely…erase everything he's been putting in Rachel's head. 'Cause she's kinda the best, you know? And it's not fair that no one else notices like he wants them to. Even if she is pissed at him.

"I kinda like her," Puck says.

Finn wants to roll his eyes. Well, he wants to do a lot of things. Like punch stuff. Make all this stuff about Santana go away. Get this competition over with. Why is it they always fall apart before Sectionals? They're a team and things should be so much better this time. He stands up angrily. "Shut the hell up, Santana!" he yells. She stares at him, disbelieving and he just ignores her for the moment 'cause…well, he doesn't really need a reason other than he doesn't wanna deal with her; his irritation at her isn't as important as his love for Rachel, despite everything.

"Look, Rachel." Maybe he's kinda yelling a bit, but shouldn't all this just be over already? Yeah, he messed up. He knows it, but he's kinda given up on getting her to forgive him 'cause she hasn't given him any room to explain or even beg or do anything except feel like shit about the whole thing. As if he needs help doing that.

She's just kinda glowering at him, but he pushes through and just says it. Not that it's entirely clear to him what he's actually saying, but he's used to that by now, so it's whatever. "I get that you're pissed, okay? I'm not saying you shouldn't be, but at least be pissed the right way. I shouldn't have lied about it and I'm sorry for that. I just don't get why you're not as put out over that as you are about the fact that it's Santana!" She starts to argue, but he just interrupts her by turning to Santana.

"And you! What the fuck is up with you? You've left me alone about this for like a year and then you randomly come on to me at my mom's wedding—" Fuck. He glances over at Rachel, whose eyes are bright with some kind of mix of betrayal and some other something he can't face reading right now. Santana arches an eyebrow, but he's on a roll now. "I really don't know what your problem is, but you need to lay off Rachel. She's my girlfriend and I'm in love with her. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that!"

"Look here, Frankenteen—" But he cuts her off 'cause anything she says is just gonna piss him off more and hurt Rachel more and he doesn't need that shit. So nope. Not having it.

"Yeah no, actually, you look here. Just leave Rachel alone. And you know what, yeah I had sex with you. So has pretty much every other dude in the school. But you lied just as much as I did." He turns back to Rachel and this time, he's not yelling anymore. 'Cause he's not angry. He just wants her to see.
"You shouldn't have found out like that 'cause I shoulda just manned up and told you." He's walking toward her and okay well she's not turning away so that's gotta be a good thing, right? Right. Okay. Just do it, he tells himself. "But when I said she wasn't worth it, it was true in that moment and in 'that motel room..'" He glares briefly at the slutty Cheerio before searching Rachel's face. "Rachel, I—"

Her voice is a little cold, a little flat when she interrupts, but she's talking at least so he's gotta hold on to something. Anything. "Can we please talk in private?"

He opens his mouth like he's gonna say yes yes yes yes baby we can talk anywhere as long as you're talking too yes! But she's already out the door, so he just follows her instead.

She looks at him expectantly, placing her hands on her hips and if he wasn't the source of her irritation, he'd tell her how totally adorable she is when she does that. There's still something sharp in her eyes, like something is still kinda stuck there. It's not even anger, he thinks. Well, maybe a little. But it's just, like…hurt. Like when you get that little piece of tissue stuck in your eye after you wipe tears away and it just gets stuck there and it's really uncomfortable except hers isn't, like, physical or anything. It's just what it reminds him of because her eyes always have the most emotion and he just hates hates hates when it's some kind of emotion he wishes she didn't feel. Like this. Like right now. Like….whatever. Talk to her. Right. Okay. He can do this.

"Rachel," he says softly. "I'm sorry I lied. And I'm sorry I slept with her. I didn't tell her it was worth it. I sat there feeling shitty and I told her I didn't feel anything 'cause it didn't mean anything. And it was true then and it's still true now. Like, it was just…easier to pretend it didn't happen 'cause then maybe I could fool myself into thinking it actually didn't happen. I didn't know everyone else already knew," he adds.

She looks like she wants to cry and no no no no no no that's not what he wants! He wants her to see that Santana is a useless piece of…anything and he loves Rachel. Rachel. Like, for real loves her. Not just that kind of love where you see a pretty girl and she makes you feel tingly when she looks at you like you're maybe a little cute kinda love. Not the kind of love where it's a guy and a girl and the girl manipulates the guy into thinking everything's his fault 'cause she lied trampled all over your heart kinda love. And not the kinda love where you can forget you're in love when you're thinking about another girl with shiny brown eyes and big beautiful voice who just wants to show you how good you can be at anything kinda love. The real love. Like, when he looks at Rachel all he sees is Rachel. He doesn't see her when he's wishing maybe she's someone else and he doesn't look at her and see something he missed out on. He just like, needs to love her 'cause if he doesn't or if he can't, then why is he even still alive? Like, for what purpose? And maybe it's girly and soft and warm to be in for real love but that's whatever 'cause he'd still be the asshole throwing balloons filled with piss at the kid who's his step brother now if it weren't for Rachel and her for real love and wanting just everything with and for her. So why can't she see that?

But then all that comes out of her mouth is this harsh little whisper and he's like dying 'cause she doesn't get that it doesn't matter. "Santana."

"Rachel," he begins again. "I'm trying to understand, like, for real. But you wouldn't care so much if I did it with Quinn or…Lauren or that girl in Spanish with the lazy eye. I'm trying to get it, I really am. But I mean I lied and that part's like whatever to you 'cause you're so hung up on who it is but I'm so, so sorry any way you look at it!"

This time, he barely hears her. "She hates me."

He leans against the wall a little 'cause well, yeah, he knows that already. Santana's a bitch. Not much he can do about that. "I…" But he doesn't know what to say and he's not good with words when he does know what he wants to say. So he's stuck with just waiting.

"Why is it you picked the person least like me and least like everything I stand for to 'get over me'? I don't understand, Finn. I do understand that you were jealous and I apologized for my role in that. I wanted to hurt you on purpose. Is that what you wanted to do to me too? Because, I have to say Finn, it really worked!"

And he knows she's about to stomp off again and so he grabs her wrist 'cause if he can't explain it now, he knows he'll lose the chance forever. "Rachel, no. No, I wasn't even—I didn't…I just…" He scrubs a hand over his face and takes a deep breath. "Like, she just offered and I was all like no way until you started talking about Jesse and you and…I just got all grossed out and jealous and hurt and stuff. And let's be honest, it's not like there were tons of girls lining up to sleep with me. It was a chance I really wish I hadn't taken, but I swear to God Rachel, I didn't sleep with her 'cause it was…her. I just…Rachel, I am so so so sorry for making you feel this way. You honestly have no idea. I can't…" he trails off, watching her face.

And the tiniest smidge of that sharpness fades. Her question is soft, less angry, less everything he wishes he could take back. "You can't what, Finn?"

"I can't…" He frowns, frustrated. At her a little, but mostly at himself. At their situation; life. "I can't do anything right when it comes to proving how much I love you. Like, nothing works. I try to tell myself to just get over you so you can be happy and it makes shit worse. I lie about it 'cause I think it'll protect you and again, it just makes shit worse. And then I try to explain why and it comes out all wrong and just makes shit worse! And it just sounds so…insincere when I say I'm sorry but like, I wasn't trying to be a dick with any of that stuff, Rach." His voice gets low, vulnerable. "I guess I just…am."

And then all the sharpness is gone, but he doesn't even really notice 'cause something is in his eyes and he actually kinda thinks it might be tears but yeah, not gonna dwell on that one. "Finn…" He doesn't look at her 'cause he can't look at her. 'Cause if he looks at her then he'll see her and everything he loves about her when he doesn't really deserve her, does he?

So she takes his face in her hands, and turns it toward hers. And he can't like look down to avert his gaze like he would anyone else 'cause she's so little so he has to look at and he has to see. He sighs a little.

"Finn, I'm not going to tell you I've completely forgiven you and everything is going to be smooth sailing from here. But if it were, what kind of relationship would we have?" This time he does look at her. He looks into those shiny brown eyes that are all huge with, like, love and trying to understand and stuff and it's so awesome that she's like that. But he's still not sure he's earned anything she's giving him. "If we can only make everything work when everything is going blissfully perfect for us," she goes on, looking straight into him, "if we don't have any rough patches or we can't get past them now, then how are we going to make this relationship go the distance? I've already told you that's what I want for us. And if that's what you want as well, you'll look at me now, Finn. Really look at me."

So yeah of course it's what he wants 'cause he can't imagine ever wanting anything more than he wants Rachel, so he looks at her for real and his heart is doing that jittery thing again. "Rachel…"

She lets go of him, but now he just can't let go so he takes her arms and just, like, holds them because some contact is better than none. And he wants to say I love you I'm so sorry I love you I love you I love you Rachel Berry and if anyone can make it work it's us because it's for real love and that's how it's always gonna be. But the words won't come out when he tries to say them, so he engulfs her in a hug instead, holding her as tight and warm and God, I love you Rachel so so so much as he can. And when she finally returns his embrace, he feels that familiar half-smile forming on his face, so he holds her tighter and kisses her hair.

He pulls back a little. "Are we…you and me, are we okay?" he asks quietly.

She looks at him timidly, looks way, and then her eyes settle on his again. "We're okay…enough."

And that's better than he was expecting and he knows she'll give him the chances he needs now to prove he's for real in love with her and her and her and her and not Santana. So he lets it go 'cause like she said, it's…enough.

He smiles. So does she. "I still think we should be singing the duet," she mutters. And he knows she's back enough and even if they can't sing together they're still gonna be together 'cause she loves him for real like he loves her.

"Yeah," he agrees. "We'd kill it."

He offers her his hand and she takes it and everyone is rolling their eyes or making stupid gagging noises when they walk in together. But he just ignores and pretends to be genuine when he tells Sam and Quinn good luck.

And when they walk out on stage, his smile isn't just like stage presence or whatever Mr. Schue is always blabbing at them about. It's cause Rachel's still the star even when she's singing back up and she's gonna forgive him someday and he's gonna make sure she's happy forever. Someday he's gonna prove to her without being stupid eighty million times first that he really does just truly absolutely and totally…love her. For real.


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