a/n: so, this is only the first chapter of what will be a very AU fic. I will warn you, there is character death, but this story isn't quite as simple as that. It's not all completely depressing and sad, I promise (it's tragedy AND romance for a reason). This chapter is only the introduction, and the next chapter will give a much better sense of what the story's completely about, but I don't want to spoil you all quite yet. Also, a big thanks to everyone who helped with this, especially Elaina (who gave me one of the biggest pieces of inspiration for this fic), Jess (for reading this through and catching my silly mistakes), and Shayna (who literally helped me develop this entire idea).

I watched you disappear into the clouds
swept away into another town
the world carries on without you, but nothing remains the same
I'll be lost without you, until the last of days

- Last of Days, A Fine Frenzy

May 16th, 2008

Bright lights flash.

She blinks rapidly, letting her eyes readjust to the neon glow as she walks out of the bathroom and back onto the wooden floor. From across the room, she can see him sitting, waiting for her, his head hanging backwards over the top of one of the seats. She giggles to herself, noticing how his foot is tapping along absentmindedly to the beat of the music playing through the speakers.

Don't Stop Believin'. He loves this song, she knows.

She walks carefully, staying as close to the wall lined with racks full of bowling balls as she possibly can so he won't see her. He does this to her all the time, sneaking up on her, scaring the living daylights out of her. Every time, she screams in terror, and he ends up laughing hysterically. One time, he did it to her when they were at the mall, and a security guard had run over, thinking that Finn was assaulting her.

They almost got kicked out, but they apologized and Rachel almost had to pull the fake tears act. She wasn't really mad though, not at all.

It's impossible to stay mad at him. If there's anything that ten years of friendship have taught her, it's that she'll never be able to stay angry when it comes to him.

When she finally gets close, she tiptoes up behind him, biting her lip to stop from laughing as she watches him sing along to himself. She creeps closer, closer, closer, until she's right there, grabbing his shoulders.

"Boo!"

Finn jumps in his seat, spinning to look at her, eyes wide. The laughter bursts out then, uncontrollable as she moves around the chairs to sit next to him, sliding down against his side as he pretends to glares at her.

"Real funny, Rach," he mumbles, trying not to grin. She can tell he's attempting to hide a smile, so she pushes on his arm playfully, trying to get it out of him.

"I got you for once," she says, clapping happily when he finally smiles, rolling his eyes at her.

"Yeah, yeah, but at least I didn't scream like a girl like someone."

"Well I am a girl, so it's completely acceptable for me," she replies, and he just rolls his eyes again.

"Sure, Rach. It's your turn, by the way."

She groans and he laughs, shoving her off the seat gently. While she doesn't exactly hate bowling, she's completely terrible at it. She manages a strike once a game if she's lucky, and she throws more gutter balls than she knocks down pins. But it's one of his favorite things to do, and their parents don't let them stay out late to go cosmic bowling on Friday nights all that often, so she humors him the few times he really wants to go. They're fourteen now, so they get to go all by themselves and stay until the bowling alley closes at midnight, and it's fun to get out and feel a little bit older for a change.

She walks up to the ball return, grabbing the shiny pink ball she's been using before walking over to stand in front of the lane. Winding back, she uses all her strength—which isn't much—to throw the ball down the lane. The ball travels down the middle for just a second, and she begins to bounce on her toes in excitement.

Then, she sees the ball begin to veer off to the side, effectively falling into the gutter just a few feet before the pins, leaving them all upright. She stomps her foot in annoyance, spinning around to find him smirking behind her. Her second attempt doesn't go any better, and the ball rolls into the gutter again. Keeping her angry face on, she huffs back over and sits down again, crossing her arms over her chest. She feels him nudging her with his elbow, teasing her.

"I hate bowling," she grumbles, and he just shakes his head.

"No you don't."

"I do."

"Whatever," he jokes, standing up to take his turn. Picking up his bowling ball, he easily throws it straight down the lane, taking out every single pin. "Strike! Yeah baby!" He yells, fist pumping as he turns around to face her. He does a celebratory dance that looks more like someone put an ice cube down his back, and Rachel continues to fight off a smile.

He dances back over to her, continuing to fist pump, and she sighs in fake annoyance.

"You are ridiculously annoying," she states, and he gives her a lop-sided grin.

"You love me."

"I don't," she replies, but her grin gives her away. She does love him, more than anything, she's sure. He's her very best friend, has been for as long as she can remember. She's known him for ten years, since she and her dads moved next to door to Finn and his mom. And since that first day they met, they'd been inseparable.

He's her entire world, outside of her dads, and couldn't have asked for a better best friend. Truthfully, he's her only friend, and she's so grateful for him. He's never abandoned her, not once. Not when they started elementary school and boys were supposed to think girls were gross, and not when they got a little bit older and kids started calling her a loser. And after years of teasing, it wasn't like she had the best self-esteem. She actually started to believe the horrible things kids said about her, from the comments about her huge nose to the fact that she was too short. Finn's her only saving grace in school, the only one who doesn't see her as an ugly, annoying girl with two gay dads.

The only one that doesn't see a target right on her back.

And she knows that he doesn't need her, not like she needs him. He's not a loser, and she's not the only friend he's got. In fact, he's pretty popular, and she knows a bunch of the kids in school look up to him. Next year, when they finally go to high school, he's going to play football, and Rachel knows how good he is—even though she's not a big fan of sports, she's been tagging along to all of his games with his mom since she he started playing in a rec league in elementary school. She knows he'll be the big man on campus one day, the football star. She knows people will want to be his friend; she knows girls will be clamoring to date him.

Heck, she knows plenty of girls who would love to now. She knows Quinn Fabray, the pretty blonde who's already been recruited for the high school cheerleading squad, has a crush on Finn. Rumors and gossip spread fast in middle school, and even though she's low on the social totem pole, she's not oblivious to the whispers.

Finn, however, doesn't seem to care. He's the definition of popular, and she couldn't be more unpopular if she tried. But he still chooses to spend his time with her, no matter what other people say about her. And she knows that he hears people talk about them. She knows that people ask what he could possibly see in her, but he never lets them get away with it.

He's kind of like her knight in shining armor. Her protector.

And she knows, just like she knows she needs him, that he doesn't need her the same way. Without her, he'd still be cool. He'd still have tons of friends, and tons of girls after him.

Rachel isn't oblivious to the fact that he's one of the cutest boys in school either, although she scolds herself for thinking about it. He's her best friend, and that's it. Even if she felt something more for him, it wouldn't matter.

Girls like her just don't get boys like him.

Best friends? Maybe.

Boyfriend and girlfriend? No way. Not when there are pretty girls like Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez, skinny, perfect girls with perfect hair and perfect noses and perfect skin, who'd want to be with him. Rachel knows she can't compete with girls like them.

She sighs again, thinking about it for another moment, before shaking her head. He loves her like a friend, probably like a sister, and she loves him too. And if he's perfectly happy being her best friend, then she's happy too.

"What're you thinking about?" he asks, snapping her out of her thoughts. "You've got a look on your face like you're trying to figure out which Barbra movie is your favorite."

She giggles, biting her lip out of habit. "You know 'Funny Girl' is my favorite, Finn."

"Yeah, I know," he replies, ducking his head a little as she continues to smile up at him.

She's about to say something else, maybe tease him about knowing her favorite Barbra Streisand movie, when they hear his cell phone go off in his pocket.

"It's my mom," he tells her once he sees the caller idea, pressing the button to answer it. "Hey mom…yeah…yeah, we're almost done…we just have to bowl another two frames and then turn in our shoes…uh huh…okay mom…bye." He hangs up, pressing the button again and slipping the phone back into his pocket. "She said she's going to leave to come get us in a few minutes, so we better finish this game. You know, so I can say I beat you four times in a row and stuff."

She huffs, placing her hands on her hips. "Well what if I refuse to finish the game then?"

"Then," he replies, smirking, "you forfeit, which still means I win. Better to like, bowl and lose with dignity."

"You are insufferable," she lies, pouting, but he just tickles her side, causing her to squirm and laugh.

"I don't even know what that means."

"Oh, Finn," she mumbles, grinning at him affectionately.

She loves him, she truly does.

"Four games. I think that's a new record for us."

"Us?"

"Well, wins for me and losses for you." She hits his chest and he flinches, groaning as she skips off in front of him, out of the bowling alley. It's raining hard out, so when she spots his mom's little grey car parked out front, waiting for them, she sprints as fast as she can without slipping.

"Hi Carole," she says, greeting his mother as she climbs into the seat behind her.

"How was it, sweetie? You didn't let Finn beat you again, did you?" Carole asks, turning to smile at her over her shoulder.

"She didn't let me—she didn't have a choice," Finn cuts in, climbing into the backseat with Rachel.

"Oh shush," Carole replies, giving her son a look, and Rachel giggles to herself because Carole is always on her side. "I'm sure Rachel could kick your butt if she tried, right Rachel?"

Rachel nods, smirking at Finn, and he scoffs, shifting down in his seat.

"You just like her better than me," he tells his mom as she puts the car in drive and starts to pull away from the building.

"I do," she agrees, joking, and Finn rolls his eyes. Rachel continues to smile, enjoying just how wonderful she feels right at this moment. As much as she adores Finn, she adores his mom just as much. Rachel's always thought of Carole like her own mother, and she knows Carole thinks of her as a daughter—she's told Rachel herself.

"Goodness," she hears Carole mumble to herself in the front, and Rachel watches her turn the windshield wipers up to a higher level. "I swear this rain just came out of nowhere."

Rachel shifts her head, turning to look out the window next to her. The water is pouring down in sheets, and it's truly hard to make out anything outside of the car. She can feel the car slow a bit as Carole puts the breaks on when they start approaching an intersection, but she feels the car speed up again when the light turns green.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Finn sitting up a little, and then hears him start to speak.

"Mom—"

It's all that comes before bright lights through his window blind her, and the next thing she knows, there's an ungodly noise, the loudest noise she's ever heard. A sickening cracking of metal and glass, a scream ripped from someone's throat, a squealing of rubber on cement.

Bright lights flash, and then the world turns black.

She feels hands on her body, all over her body. She feels arms wrap around her, and she feels herself being lifted, limp like a rag doll.

Then there's something hard beneath her back, and she feels more hands moving over her. Her eyes flutter open, and she's met with more light.

"Can you hear me, Rachel? Stay with me, okay? Stay with me Rachel, you're going to be okay."

She feels searing pain, like red-hot fire coursing through her veins.

She closes her eyes again.

Black.

The next time her eyes open, the world isn't so blurry.

She's in a hospital.

She's on a hospital bed, and there's a machine beeping next to her. There's something in her arm, actually in it, a tube leading from her body to an IV bag attached above her. She feels something heavy on her leg and arm, and when she looks down, she sees a white cast over her entire right arm.

She still hurts.

"Oh, Rachel."

She slowly turns her head at the sound of her name, seeing her dad and daddy standing up and moving towards her immediately.

"Oh baby girl, you're awake. She's awake, Leroy," her dad says softly, placing a gentle hand on her forehead. She sees tears in his eyes, which are already red.

Her daddy comes right up beside him, placing a comforting arm around his shoulder.

"Wha—" she tries to speak, but her throat is dry, and she starts to cough.

"Here pumpkin," her dad says, quickly grabbing a cup with a straw off of a small table behind him, holding it up so she can take a few small sips.

"What happened?" she asks when she can finally get the words out.

Her dad drops his head, and she sees her daddy squeeze his shoulder gently. "There was an accident, sweetie. Do you remember?"

She thinks for a second, trying to remember. She thinks hard, concentrating, but all she can remember is black. Black, the deepest darkness, until suddenly, a flash of light.

Light.

Screams.

A crash. There was a crash. The bowling alley and a crash and—

"Finn," she says suddenly. "The bowling alley, and Carole."

Her dad nods, his face twisting into a frown. "Yes sweetie, on your way home from the bowling alley. It was raining, and another car slid through the intersection. They couldn't stop, the car was hydroplaning—"

"Finn," she repeats again, her mind suddenly flashing with memory. "Finn and Carole—"

"You were unconscious when the paramedics got there. They said you must have hit you head on the window," her daddy continues, shaking his head. "You only woke up for a moment, and then they think you started going into shock, and you've been out since."

"Daddy—"

"Your arm and leg are broken, and they had to take you into surgery," he continues, ignoring her attempts to ask him what she really wants—needs—to know. "They had to fix up your leg, baby, but don't worry, because the doctor says with a little time, you'll be just fine. You're going to be fine, baby," he tells her, kneeling down next to her bed and taking her hand in his own, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to it softly. "You're going to be okay."

"Where's Finn?" she asks, her voice becoming a little stronger, more urgent. "Daddy." She watches as he shakes his head, and she turns to look up at her other father, still standing, his face turned downward. "Daddy, where is Finn? Where is he, Daddy?" she continues to ask, until she hears her dad gasp, inhaling a sharp breath. She can see the tears start to actually fall from his eyes, and she panics. "Daddy, where, Daddy, where's Finn? Tell me!"

She's starting to become hysterical, and before she knows it, she's crying, her breath coming out in short gasps.

"Rachel," her Daddy starts, refusing to look at her, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Where, Daddy, where is Finn? Tell me where he is!" she cries, her face crumpling, her heart breaking. "Finn, where…" She can't even finish her question again as she starts to choke on her breath and her tears, everything just too much at once.

Next to her, her dad loses it completely, giving into the sobs as he watches her fall into hysterics. Her dad stands back up, wrapping his arms around his partner.

All he can do is watch. There's nothing to say, nothing he can do.

Nothing.

"Finn," she chokes out again, hiccupping as she starts to lose control of her breathing. "Finn. Daddy, please. Please Daddy."

But there's nothing, nothing at all.

Nothing.

And she knows.

She doesn't want to see anyone, doesn't want to talk.

She doesn't want to hear people tell her they're sorry, or worse, that they're glad she's okay.

She's not okay.

Not at all.

She's broken and shattered, and it's nothing they can stitch up to fix.

There aren't any casts, aren't any bandages to fix what happened.

She hears her dad calling her from downstairs. She doesn't move.

She doesn't care, not about anything. All she wants to do is curl up in her bed, fall back asleep, and forget today even exists.

She wants to forget that this whole week—hell, she'd give back the whole month if it would change things.

She'd give back anything. And today just makes things worse.

"Rachel, sweetheart," she hears her dad call again, and she can hear his footsteps coming up the stairs.

She sits. She doesn't care.

"Rachel?" There's a small knock on her door before she hears it open, but she remains still, sitting on the edge of her bed. She stares straight ahead, looking over the photo frames that sit on her vanity.

A picture of her and Finn when they were six and had fallen asleep on the couch together during a movie.

Rachel and Finn at the zoo in third grade, their faces poking out of the holes in a big wooden board. Rachel was a zebra. Finn, appropriately, was a giraffe.

The two of them standing together in Times Square, just a little over a year ago for Rachel's thirteenth birthday. The only thing she had wanted in the whole world was to see a real Broadway show, and for her best friend to go with her. She lets her gaze wander up then, to the Wicked playbill stuck in the side of the mirror. She had picked that show special, because she knew out of all the musicals playing, out of all the shows they could have seen, Finn would love that one best. And he had. After the show, he had tried to play it cool, like musical theater wasn't really his thing, but she had snuck glances at him throughout the entire performance and seen how his face had lit up. She saw him mouthing the words along to almost every song, easily recalled from all the times she had played the cast recording from him.

She had thought maybe one day, they'd get to go back to the city and see it again.

But not anymore.

"Rachel, we have to leave soon. Do you want me to help you with your dress?" her dad asks, walking over and placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinches at the touch.

"No!" she snaps, pulling away. "No."

"Sweetie, we'll be late if—"

"I'm not going," she says, her gaze fixed in front of her.

"Rachel—"

"No!" she yells, and out of the corner of her eye she can see her father reel back. She doesn't want to go today, doesn't want to say goodbye to her best friend for the last time. She just wants to stay here and try to forget.

"I know this is difficult," he says softly, moving to stand in front of her, "but if you don't go today, I know you'll regret it later. One day, you'll wish you had been there."

She doesn't say a word, just continues to stare, even as he kneels down in front of her. Staring straight over his shoulder, she refuses to crack.

"Come on, baby, be strong. You're so strong, my sweet girl. You're so strong. Think about Carole, she'll want you there."

Her lip twitches at the mention of Carole, but she just takes a deep breath.

"Finn would want you there, to be strong. He'd want you there with his mom, Rachel. You know he would."

And with just the mention of his name, everything breaks. Her steely expression cracks, and her face falls.

"I can't," she cries, shaking her head as her tears finally fall. "I can't, I can't. I can't say goodbye to him."

"You're strong, Rachel, you're so strong," her dad repeats, moving his hands to cup her cheeks, guiding her face down so that her eyes meet his. "You can be strong."

"I can't," she chokes, her breath escaping her. "I can't say goodbye."

"Shh," he soothes, pulling her into him, wrapping his arms around her. "I know you can do this, Rachel. It's not goodbye, okay? It's not goodbye."

She continues to cry in her father's arms for what feels like hours, until she feels like there's nothing left in her. Once he hears that she's calmed, her dad pulls back, smiling at her gently. "There you go, baby girl. You're strong, so, so strong."

She just nods, almost imperceptibly.

"Let's get your dress on, alright?" He wipes a tear away from her cheek before standing up and walking to her closet. She turns, frowning as she watches him pull out the black dress her daddy had picked up for her just yesterday, when they realized her old black dress, the one she had worn to her grandpa's funeral two years ago, was just a little too small.

She hates the dress, hates everything about it. She hates how black it is, a reminder of that night, a reminder of everything wrong. Black like the darkness, black like everything she feels.

She shakes her head frantically, tears threatening her once again.

"What's wrong?" Her dad notices immediately, looking back and forth between her and the dress. "I thought—"

"I hate it," she says, forcing the words out. "I hate it."

"The dress? You said—"

""I hate it," she repeats, her voice faltering as she tries to hold herself together. "It's too black and it's too dark and it's too—it's too sad! I hate it!" She cries, shaking her head fiercely. "He wouldn't like that dress, he'd hate it! He'd…he'd," she stumbles over the words, trying to gain some sort of control over her breath, over her emotions.

"Hey, hey, hey," her dad starts, setting the dress down on the bed and walking back over to her. "You don't have to wear it, okay? We'll find you something else."

"But it has to be black. It's a…a funeral," she says finally. Until now, she had been refusing to acknowledge just what today was.

Just what was going to happen.

"You can wear anything you want, sweetie. Wearing black, it's kind of an old tradition that's not followed very strictly anymore. We'll find something else. Something he would like, alright?"

"Okay," she replies softly, nodding.

Her dress is blue, with little specks of yellow and red, a delicate floral patterned sash wrapping around her waist. It's the dress she picked out for eighth grade graduation, which is only two weeks away.

Blue is his favorite color.

Was his favorite color.

She can feel everyone's eyes on her as she enters the church. She's like a real, human reminder of everything that's happening, everything that happened. She can't walk on her own because of her broken leg, and she can't use crutches because of her broken arm, so she's stuck in a wheelchair that she can't even move on her own.

As he daddy pushes her down the aisle, she focuses her eyes on her lap, refusing to meet anyone else's. Everyone here knows exactly what happened. They all know that she was in the accident—that she walked away relatively unscathed.

From what everyone can see, she only has some bumps and bruises, and few bones out of place. Physically, she'll be just fine.

She'll be fine.

Everyone's here because she's fine, and Finn—

She shakes her head, trying to clear the thought.

As they get to the front of the church and her daddy gently positions her chair next to the pew, Rachel finally looks up. She sees the front of the church, the steps covered in flowers and pictures, the casket centered at the top.

She squeezes her eyes shut quickly.

No, no, no. This is wrong. Everything's wrong. This can't really be happening.

She hears her fathers talking quietly to someone for just a moment, and then there's a soft hand on her shoulder. When she opens her eyes, she sees Carole in front of her, cupping her cheek. Her eyes are red, but she's giving Rachel the best smile she can muster.

"Thank you for coming, Rachel. It would have meant so much to him. You look absolutely beautiful."

Rachel bursts into tears.

The service in the church is very simple, more of a memorial. Carole and Finn weren't extremely religious, but Rachel knows how important this is to his mother. There are a few prayers read, and the priest says some things that Rachel doesn't really listen to, until he says that Finn's mother, Carole Hudson, would like to say a few words.

Rachel watches as Carole slowly makes her way up to the pulpit, adjusting the small microphone with her hand, covered in a brace. Besides a few cuts, the only telltale sign of the accident that Carole carries is a broken wrist. Rachel grips the hem of her dress with her good hand, taking a deep breath as Carole begins to speak.

"Fourteen years ago, I was blessed with the most perfect baby boy in the entire world. I was scared and alone, with a husband off training with the army, and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I was young and convinced that without Christopher, Finn's father, I'd never be able to raise a child properly. But when the nurse handed me my son for the first time, when I heard him cry and saw him open his beautiful eyes, it was like nothing else in the world mattered. My baby boy—he was completely perfect.

"For those first few months, it was just Finn and I, and it was difficult, taking care of a newborn all by myself. But I was so in love—I never knew I could love someone so much. Christopher returned a few months later, and it was like our family was finally complete. But it didn't last long, because he was sent overseas not long after, and it was back to just Finn and I.

"I always thought that it was just temporary, that even though it seemed like Christopher was an entire world away, he'd come back, and we'd be able to share the joy of raising the child we created together. He barely had a chance to get to know his son before he had to leave, but I just kept telling myself that he'd have the rest of his life to spend time with Finn once he returned.

"But then I got the news that Christopher had been killed. He wasn't even—" Carole pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath as she tries to keep her emotions under control. "He wasn't even in combat. He had been doing routine patrol when a bomb went off, and…and the moment the news reached me, it was like my whole world fell apart. Suddenly, I was a single parent, permanently, to a son who couldn't even remember the time he had spent with his father—the only time he would ever have with his father.

"I was beyond frightened, because as much as I was grieving, I couldn't let it stop me from trying to be the best mother I could be to Finn. And Finn—he was truly the brightest light in my life. And I always missed Christopher, always will miss him, because he was the love of my life, but as I watched Finn grow, I saw all the pieces of Christopher that I loved so much in him. Finn was kind, honest, caring, and so, so loving. A wonderful son, and an amazing friend." Carole pauses again, looking out and meeting Rachel's eyes, a sad smile on her lips. "Finn was loved by so many, and it truly touched my heart to see so much love radiate around one person."

Rachel can't stop her tears from falling then, a hiccupping sob escaping her lips. She feels as if every piece of her heart is completely broken, shattered within her chest. She thinks of Carole, who's lost not only her husband, but now also her son, the most important thing in her life. She sucks in a breath and feels her lungs burn, like she's drowning, sinking in complete sadness.

"I miss my son," Carole continues, shaking her head as a few tears escape and roll down her cheeks. "I miss my son, and I will never not miss my son. I wish every day since the accident that I could go back in time—that I could change everything. I wish that I had left my house a few minutes later, that I had been driving just a few miles slower. That maybe, if I could just shift everything by a second, the other car would have hit the front of ours, instead of the back…" Carole stops then, shaking her head as she brings her hand up to cover her mouth, her tears becoming too difficult to stop.

She can't do this, she just can't. Rachel looks over to her daddy, her eyes begging him to do something. As Carole tries to regain her composure up front, Rachel gasps for breath, shaking as sobs wrack her body. She feels her daddy take her hand in his own and squeeze it softly, but it's not enough.

"Daddy," she nearly croaks, her heart clenching in her chest.

Rachel thinks that if it were possible to die from this kind of pain, this would be the end. It's like there's shattered glass pressing up against her ribs where her heart used to be, ripping and stabbing and destroying everything inside her.

She's about to beg her daddy to help her, to take her away, to make it all stop, but she can't get the words out. She hears Carole begin to speak again, and it takes everything in her to try and steady her breath so she can hear Carole's words.

"What happened to my son—my Finn, my perfect baby boy…he didn't deserve to be taken away so soon. He touched so many lives in his fourteen years, the fourteen short years that he was here, and it breaks my heart knowing that the world has lost someone so kind and generous. I know that he had great things ahead of him, and to see it all cut short is tragic. Yet, in the midst of this tragedy, I can tell myself that he'll never be gone, not completely. I can smile, knowing that the memories I have with Finn will never be gone, and that everyone here, everyone that knew him and loved him, is better because of it. The love that he shared and gave us—that will never, ever disappear. And every time I feel as though my sadness is too much, I remind myself that he's still with me, even if I can't see him, or hug him, or hear him tell me that he loves me. I believe that there is a Heaven, and I know that Finn's up there, watching over us. And if he could say anything right now, he'd probably say, 'don't cry, mom. I'm right here.'"

Despite her tears, Rachel feels a tiny smile creep onto her face. She knows Carole's words are true—if Finn was here, he'd just give her a goofy smile and tell her not to cry. He'd tell her that her smile is too pretty to hide behind tears—that he loves her most when she's smiling. And so she tries to smile then, just for him.

Because maybe Carole is right. Maybe Finn isn't so far.

On the day that she is finally able to walk on her own again, Rachel has her dad drop her off at the front gate of the cemetery just a few miles outside of the town. She asks him to wait in the car, and she slowly makes her way across the grounds until she comes to spot she's been looking for.

Kneeling down, she places a hand on the stone in front of her, tracing the lines of a name she knows she'll never forget.

"Hi Finn," she says softly, her eyes shining. "I miss you, and I love you. I love you so, so much. And I know that one day, I'll see you again."

One day.

tbc