A/N: Hey guys, welcome to my story. First off, a few things; (1). I'm so sorry my story 'No More Hiding' is no longer available. I lost my muse, but I am working on a new Klaine story with a similar plot line to NMH. I got some awful reviews on that story, but I'll look at the constructive criticism reviews and learn from them. I promise, to all the people that read this note, I will not discontinue a story so long as there's a good review for every bad. (2). I loved Cory Monteith, and I adore Lea Michele. Monteith was an amazing actor, and I can't imagine the pain that his family and Lea are going through at this time still, and I mean nothing bad about either of them. This idea came to me when I was in the tub listening to the song 'Whiskey Lullaby' just a few weeks ago. I'm saying this all because I'm giving some warnings right now, off the bat. Mentions of Finn dying the same way Cory died, and other major character death. A lot of angst, so, if it's offensive to anyone, DO NOT READ! I don't want any angry anons. (3). I don't own Glee, and I definitely don't own the rights to Brad Paisley and Allison Krauss' 'Whiskey Lullaby'. Enjoy! Sorry this note was so long. REALLY IMPORTANT NOTE: THIS IS AU.
She put him out like the burning end of a midnight cigarette.
When Finn woke up alone in the hotel room after that wonderful night with his Rachel, he wondered why she didn't even wait until he woke up to say goodbye. It was only until Santana called him the next day that he realized what was going on.
''Finn, just face it. She's not gonna get back with you. She's over you, completely. Hell, she's in New York with Kurt and Brody and I, and you're still a Lima loser who caused the wedding to go all to hell. Get over her, and let her get over you.''
Finn, still heartbroken, especially after feeling so guilty that he may have broken up Will and Emma, decided to follow Puck's advice and use a fake ID to buy a bottle of whiskey. What could go wrong?
She broke his heart. He spent his whole life trying to forget.
As Finn picked up the bottle to pour another shot for himself, he shrugged and started drinking straight from the bottle. He and Puck were hanging out in their dorm room together, and he and Puck were both too drunk and too lazy to go out in public and look for a party. Finn held the bottle to his lips and poured the rest of the amber liquid down his throat quickly, downing the last five shots in one.
''Whoa, man, hey, that's the third bottle you've gone through in two days. I'm starting to worry about you.'' Puck actually seemed really concerned for his well being. Finn looked over at Puck with bleary eyes.
''I'm sorry man, I can't help it. I miss Rach so much. Why? Why did I have to let her go to New York without me?'' Even as drunk as Finn was, he wasn't slurring his words as badly. Puck didn't answer. He didn't know how to. Soon after Finn passed out from the amount of alcohol in his system, Puck made a phone call.
''Hey, Carole, how are you doing? Yeah, this is Puck, and I'm just calling because I'm worried about Finn...''
We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time, but he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind.
As Finn reached out to pour another shot, Santana grabbed his hand. Puck shot up immediately.
''Woah, hey man, haven't you had enough already?''
''I'll tell you when I've had enough. I've had enough when every thought in my head doesn't have anything to do with Rachel. I miss her so much. I just want to see her again, I just want to hold her. So let me be.''
Santana and Puck exchanged worried glances, but neither said a word.
Until the night he put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger, and finally drank away her memory.
Finn looked at the three empty bottles in front of him. He knew he was on the fast track to a hangover and took some anti-vomiting pills precscribed to him from his doctor. As he looked at the half empty fourth bottle, he felt Rachel leave his head. He downed the last of the fourth bottle, and immediately he fell. He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper nearby, and he quickly scrawled on it.
Life is short, but this time it was bigger than the strength he had to get up off his knees.
As Finn walked toward his bed, he felt free. He fell halfway in between his desk and the bed, and quickly got up. Still feeling completely free and weightless, he stumbled over to his mattress and collapsed on top of the comforter. He smiled into his pillow. As darkness started to take him away to the place he had been many times since he found alcohol, he remembered he still had the note in his hand. He didn't know why he had even written it in the first place, but it felt important. Maybe it was because he finally had no thoughts, especially about Rachel.
We found him with his face down in the pillow with a note that said ''I'll love her 'til I die''.
Puck and Santana walked into the dorm and immediately knew something was wrong. From the four bottles of whiskey that had all been drank by Finn to the sight of him passed out on his bed. Puck, feeling anxious, walked over to the bed and looked for any movement of Finn's body. He found none. Getting scared at this point, he picked up Finn's head from the pillow, and saw his eyes half open and glassy. No. Oh no no no.
As Puck started hyperventilating, Santana dialed 911. And as Puck started to tear up, he noticed something clutched in Finn's still warm hand. It was a note.
Tell Rachel that she's beautiful. Tell her to go on with her life, and tell her I love her very much.
As Santana looked over his shoulder at the note, Puck shook his head, not saying what they both were thinking.
He knew.
When we buried him beneath the willow, the angels sang a whiskey lullaby. La la la la la, la la la la la la la.
After the funeral, a very sad glee club, current members and alumni, stood around Finn's grave and sang. They weren't going for a certain melody, and everyone just sang a bunch of minor 'la's. Rachel, it seemed, was crying the most.
The rumors flew, but nobody knew how much she blamed herself.
Life always goes on. Rachel lived, but it felt like she was just going through the motions. She went out with her friends, she laughed, she even went on dates and performed. She went to school and acted as if everything was normal, as if her heart wasn't broken from the thought that all of this was her fault. Feeling fed up, she asked Santana to get her a bottle of whiskey.
For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath.
Rachel looked around the apartment. Dani and Santana were on the couch, with the former admiring the engagement ring the latter had given to her, and Kurt and Blaine, the newlyweds, only married for a year, sat together on a chair, fingers hooked together. Rachel was alone. She walked over to the kitchen where a bottle of whiskey was waiting for her use. Sighing, she drank some right out of the bottle, barely noticing that she had downed a quarter of it. She was newly 21, of course, so she could drink if she wanted. Too bad she had started when she was 19 and had to use many packs of gum to hide her problem from her friends.
She finally drank her pain away a little at a time, but she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind.
Santana and Dani, both still in their honeymoon attire, entered the apartment they still shared with Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine. They were greeted by an all-too-familiar sight; a drunk Rachel crying onto Kurt's shoulder.
''It's no use, Kurt. I can't get him out of my thoughts. Finn. Finn, why did you have to leave me? Your brother got married, even Santana got married, and you're gone. Finn, why did you leave? Why?''
Kurt and Blaine looked at each other with immense sadness. Rachel was 21. Finn had been gone for two years, almost three at this point. She should be moving on, having fun, going on dates. Dani and Santana walked over to Rachel's other side. Santana inwardly sighed. It would be a long night.
Until the night she put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger and finally drank away his memory.
Rachel looked at the fifth bottle she had had that day and decided to use her motion-sickness pills to help her with her inevitable hangover. The liquid was almost a quarter gone. She looked at a picture of her and Finn, taken right before their high school graduation, and started crying. She was alone in her room. Kurt and Blaine were both in class, and Santana and Dani were shopping. Quickly she downed another quarter of the bottle, and stood up from her bed. She found her way over to her dresser, where she kept the photo in a silver frame. Halfway to the dresser, she downed another quarter of the bottle. When she got to the picture, she finished the bottle off and let if fall to the floor. She picked up the picture and made her way back to her bed.
Life is short, but this time it was bigger than the strength she had to get up off her knees.
Knowing she was about to pass out, and stumbling over to her bed, Rachel fell and landed on her knees. She couldn't feel any of it. She found it in her to move, and she quickly climbed onto her bed, bare except for a sheet and pillow. She clutched the picture of Finn to her chest and fell face first onto her mattress. Soon, the darkness overpowered her.
We found her with her face down in the pillow, clinging to his picture for dear life.
Kurt and Blaine walked through the door, arms hooked around each other, laughing. Kurt saw the three empty whiskey bottles, one on the couch, one on the floor next to Rachel's room, and one on the living room table, and his laughter died in this throat.
''Blaine, let's go check on Rachel. I don't think I've seen her ever drink four bottles in one day." Blaine nodded solemnly in agreement. The two boys soon found the fifth bottle in her room, they both knew something bad had happened. Kurt slowly approached his best friend, scared out of his wits. He shook her shoulder a few times, and, after sighing and shaking his head, he moved her onto her back. He saw her eyes were closed, and he thought she had passed out drunk again, cradling her favorite picture of Finn. Blaine approached the bed too, and looked at Rachel. He gasped when he noticed what was wrong.
''Oh my God. Kurt, she's not breathing. Quick, call 911. We need to get her help. Oh God.''
Kurt, in deep enough shock that he didn't fully realize what was going on, took out his phone and dialed the three digits. It was only when he had hung up with the operator after the paramedics got there that he started sobbing.
We laid her next to him beneath the willow while the angels sang a whiskey lullaby. La la la la la la la, la la la la la la la.
Rachel's dads were hugging each other and sobbing, and Burt and Carole were clutching Kurt close in between them, weeping silently. Kurt was still in shock, and tears were flowing down his face under his sunglasses. Blaine was holding one of his hands. Nobody else that had been in glee club with her was able to make it other than Santana. Rachel wasn't buried in a Jewish cemetery, but buried right next to her one true love. Long after Burt and Carole had gone home, and shortly after Leroy and Hiram had left, Kurt, Blaine, Santana, and Dani were standing where the two had been laid to rest. Once again, like what had happened a long time ago with Finn, the singing started as discordant, minor, and very beautiful 'la's.
A/N: reviews help me smile and gain the strength to deal with my own drinking problem. This is dedicated to the millions of people and their friends and families who die of alcohol poisoning in America each year. And note to anyone that wants to dispute me on this; I know what I'm writing about. Cory died from a mixed blood toxicity of alcohol and herion. I was focusing on the alcohol since I haven't ever been on herion. And no, I don't wish death upon Lea. Before you flame me, remember, THIS IS AU!