A/N: needed some cathartic fic to release some of the emotions I've been holding since july. Here's hoping the angels are teaching you some sweet dance moves, cory. ~TA
The gold band still fits snugly on her finger, easy as pulling a glove on, comfortable, beautiful. The tiny diamond winks softly in the dim light, and Rachel remembers falling in love with the gentle simplicity of it, a diamond that can shine as bright as any star.
There's a summer rain splattering against her window, washing away the heat of the day and the remains of a Celebration of Life that McKinley held just a few hours earlier. A year later, and Finn's presence is still strong, strong enough to bring hundreds of people back to remember him.
Rachel spins the ring around her finger as she watches the rain fall. She's taken to wearing it whenever she goes out, a reminder and a warning: a reminder to her, of what she's lost, of what she almost had, and a warning to others, that her heart belongs to someone else.
Santana told her, once, that when Finn sank his fist into Brody's face, he had shouted "Stay away from my future wife!" The knowledge used to warm her up, fill her with hope and love; now, it douses the flame inside, reminds her of the promises they made that can never come true.
She sang for the first time since his death at this memorial, and then again, a month later. Two weeks after that, she sang in the shower. A week later, while watching Funny Girl with Kurt and Santana. It's a slow process that hurts with every note, but Finn would never forgive her for silencing her voice, and, more importantly, she would never forgive herself.
She hasn't forgotten his voice, or his face, or even his scent. She has a t-shirt of his, has had it since their first win at Sectionals, and despite the years and the tears, the fights and the makeups, it still smells so distinctly like Finn. She both hates and loves that she cannot seem to forget him, but he is in her bones, in her blood, in her.
She saw Puck hold Quinn's hand at the Celebration, saw Quinn rest her head on Puck's shoulder. She saw Brittany and Santana holding each other and laughing when Kurt reminded them of how he used to dance. She saw the Glee Club coming together, sharing their memories and their love.
The truth is, twelve months have passed and she has danced and worked, smiled, even laughed. She's had cooking disasters with Kurt and gotten drunk with Santana. Sometimes, she wakes up, and the loss of Finn strikes her like a knife to the heart; other days, she'll wake up, shower, eat breakfast, live, before the wave breaks and she is alone.
Sometimes, she is so angry with him that she screams, closes the door and rails at him, curses him and God and even that stupid Grilled Cheesus, all of them, everyone who let Finn die, who left her alone, without him, forever. Somedays, she's too lost in her grief to rise out of her bed. Most days, she takes a moment to breath, and she goes on.
And that's all any of them can do. They breathe, they remind themselves of who they were before Finn Hudson, and after Finn Hudson. They live, because Finn would not want them to forget themselves for him.
She loves him, she'll always love him, she kisses his photo before she goes to bed and she tells him, quietly, about her day, about her fights and her struggles, her victories and the jokes that make her laugh. Rachel Berry is a star, and she's going to shine bright on a stage with a crowd of the adoring. Nothing and no one was ever going to change that.
After all, the show has to go on … all over the place … or something.