His mind stopped working. He was no longer present. Finn had left the building.
He was kissing her on the stage, for the first time. He was running away from her. He was twenty, and holding her hand as a doctor took bone marrow from her hip. He was telling her that he loved her before they went on stage. He was decorating their new apartment, covering the ceiling in stars to surprise her. He was kissing her, and he didn't care about nationals any more. He was holding her in the library. He was watching her in her first starring role on Broadway, Kurt next to him, cheering her on. He was fighting Jesse, and Puck. He was talking about children, only a month ago, half kidding, half not. He was seventeen, walking through her winter wonderland, and the part of him that was ten years older, that part that would have to check back in, soon, because the officer was talking, and he'd be expecting an answer, that part of Finn was wishing he'd never run away from her. Ever.
He hadn't known that, one day, she'd be out of his reach. Deep down, he thought she'd always be there, for him to claim.
And now she wasn't, no one knew where she was, and the police wanted to talk to him about the bloodstains in his car.
AN: I would very much appreciate if you took time from your day to review.