Disclaimer:

© Fox, Ryan Murphy Television, Brad Falchuck Teley-Vision, Glee

Although I wish I owned Glee, I don't. The ideas and views of this FanFiction are in no way affiliated with Fox, or Ryan Murphy (cos personally i dont think he could come up with something like this).

A/N:

This is what I wish happened during the Funeral Episode, of Glee in season two. Its completely Finntana, and I hope you enjoy. R&R!


That whole time she sat there, clearly sad, but blank. She kept all her emotions inside. Without moving, her eyes scanned the crowd at the funeral. Everyone was crying; except herself. She swallowed back tears as Coach Sylvester lost it, and Mr. Schue had to finish her speech for her. She listened closely to the words as he struggled to say them. She watched Coach; just knowing the tears would eventually flood. They didn't, Santana kept her composure.

"When you love someone, like I loved her; they're apart of you. It's like you are attached by this invisible tether, and no matter how far away you are, you can always feel them."

It was then San lost it. On outward appearances she seemed fine, like none of the words has phased her, but her insides were being ripped into a million pieces as the fragments of her broken heart tore their way through her body. She was sitting behind him, and of course he was oblivious to how much she actually felt for him, Finn.

"Take a look and you'll see, into your imagination."

His voice soothed her nerves, as she stood still, and sang along with the rest of the Glee club. She couldn't hold herself up much longer; her knees wanting to give way to the weight of her heart at any moment. Lucky for her the song wasn't long, and neither were the closing statements.

While everyone was quietly saying their goodbyes, Santana snuck off. When she was in an abandoned hallway of the funeral home she collapsed. She lost all feeling as she slid down the wall, and hit against the drab, damp smelling carpet under her. She put her head against the wall, and sobbed quietly. She wasn't the only one that needed a moment to break down.

He didn't see her, or even know anyone was in the hallway, and almost walked past her if she had not just sucked up snot right as he passed her. He looked down at her, half wanting to keep walking, and half wondering why she was so upset. He knew it wasn't Jean. Of course she was sad, but she was Santana Lopez, he would have never thought he would see her cry.

"Santana…" He said softly before trailing off, and kneeling down to put a hand on her a moment, she thought it was a ghost, and almost went all Lima Heights on Casper, but then she realized whose voice it was. She looked up at him with mascara stained eyes. "Are you alright?" He asked, gently rubbing her shoulder. She couldn't talk, or even believe he was in front of her now. It wasn't almost too much for her to bear; it was too much for her to bear. Her body bent, and her head feel into her knees as she continued to sob.

There was a moment when Finn asked himself was this really happening. Santana Lopez was a crumbling fool in front of him, and he was kneeling there comforting her shoulder like she was some stranger he had just met. She needed someone, no, she needed him. She was no heavier than a feather, and he scooped her up easily. Her rag-dolled state helped in the aspect as well.

He walked her slowly and carefully to his truck. Somehow he managed to get the door open without dropping her, and then got her into the passenger seat without banging her head against any frames; which was something he was accustom to, and knew how much of a pain it was. After he got her settled, he reached and stroked her hair from her face. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Here, San." He said softly, placing it in her hand, "Don't cry. It will be okay. It gets better. Like just imagine all the cool stuff she is doing up there in heaven with all the angels." He smiled imagining what he had just to her to imagine.

"No offense, Finn," She said in a watered down version of her bitch voice, "but I am not crying over Jean." He gave a familiar confused look.

"Then what's got you so tore up, no offense to you Santana, but I didn't think you could cry like this."

She snatched the handkerchief away from him, and snarled. "Excuse me for crying."

"No, No, I didn't mean it like that." He paused, "Here let me help you," he took the handkerchief back from her, and began to dap the wet spots on her cheeks. "Please, tell me San, why are you so upset?" His eyes pleaded with hers.

Honesty wasn't ever intended to be Miss Lopez's best policy, but in this moment she couldn't help but pour out her soul. "I love someone who will never love me back." Finn gave her a comforting side smile.

"I am sure Brittany will come to her senses one of these days." Finn said dabbing her face still.

"It's not Brittany, you idiot." He snapped her look, and pulled his hand from her face, "It's you." Finn's hands dropped to his side, and he stepped back. His mouth hung open, but no words came out. It took him a few moments to think of anything to say.

Eventually, "I made you cry like that?" escaped his lips, and his grip tightened on the now blackened handkerchief. She nodded, and he gritted his teeth. "I am so sorry, Santana."

"Don't be."

"But I am…"

"Well fucking don't be alright." She said, as she slid from the seat out onto the pavement. "Thanks for getting me out of there, imma go." He blocked her way, as she tried to escape. He looked down at her, his face full of consideration.

"Why haven't you told me sooner?"

"I tried, but you are just to du-"

"Can you just stop with the names, and be real for once?" He spurted before actually thinking about it.

"Oh you want me to be real? Well let's get real then, Finn. While you are off deciding on dating the teen mom or the hobbit, I have been heart broken, and trying to give you signs, and signals. But you were to blinded by the stank to see who really loves you, and would never make you be prom king when you clearly give no fucks, or make you have to wait while I ponder if my career is more important then you or not. I love you, Finn. I have always loved you, since 3rd grade when I tripped over my shoelace and you helped me up." She was close to him now, and he was taking the stinging words to heart. He stammered for a bit, before actually talking.

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything, because it didn't mean anything, remember?"

"That night meant everything; I was just too scared to say anything." This left her speechless. Their voices were soon drowned out by everyone exciting the building. She looked back, when he looked towards the door. She could see Quinn coming. She stepped away, and began walking towards her car. Before she could escape he took her hand, and turned her around. "I will call you later, Santana." He gave her a soft smile, and let go of her hand. He turned around, and closed the passenger door. He met Quinn halfway, and escorted her back to his truck. He opened the passenger door again, and let her in. He walked around the truck, and got in. He realized he still had the soiled handkerchief in his hand. He held it tightly in his hand, as he blinked away tears.

"What's wrong, Finn?" Quinn asked.

"I'm breaking up with you."


I may add on a few chapters to this, so look forward to them.