To be honest I don't know where this came from, I guess that is for my lack of sleep and I wanted to give a reason to be for the absence of Dianna (Quinn) in the episode. I take all hateful comments for bringing this horrible and sad event, but leave ideas, favs and the other things.

I promise

Rachel's POV

I had to stay firm to not fall on my knees and choke in my own crying while y sang Make You Feel My Love. I don't want people treating me like if I were a baby, I am not. Although… I'm not stronger enough to deal with a lost so sudden and someone so important to me.

The small altar that the guys made in front of his locker was something that just beat up my heart. Kurt knows that I have to grip him stronger to not have another panic attack. I didn't either want to step in the school. It's too soon… it is as absurd as true…

I can't believe he's gone… Finn… I will miss you so much. Why? Quite simply because I loved you as you could never imagine, even with you by my side wouldn't have been a scenario in which it could be shown.

I open the door of the choir room, Mr. Schue is at the piano, with a pencil is his hand, I suppose he's working with some music sheets. I used to do that kind of things with him and Finn after a long day of school…

"Hey, Mr. Schue"

"Hey, Rachel" he smiles and I'm forced to do so, although I don't want to. Not now. "I get flashbacks when you walk in here and say that. Good ones".

"How are you doing" I ask, approaching to the piano. He inhales deeply and I see that he keeps trying to be strong.

"Everyone keeps asking me that".

"Well, from that I hear, you've been a rock for everyone, so I know that that means that sometimes you don't get to grieve yourself".

"I'm okay" he says, nodding. «Why is he still holding back? I just don't understand». "I mean, I'm… I'm really not okay, but, uh, yeah, I'm-I'm okay" he sighs and leans on the piano. "More importantly, how are you?"

He reaches out and I look his hand for a second, then I took it with one of mine. I shrug and shake my head; my thoughts are so intermingled that I can barely remember what day is today. I shake my head again and now I'm the one who's trying to contain, at least a little.

"I have no idea" I sigh. "I talk to him a lot. I can still see his face and can hear his voice so clearly" I look the ceiling for a second. "Do you think that I'll ever forget it?" the idea blows me away. "Because I'm afraid that, one day, I will".

"What do you talk to him about?" «Yes, distract me a bit for those horrible thoughts».

"Anything. I mean, when we were dating, it was, you know pretty much me talking all the time and him just pretending to listen, so it's no really that different".

Mr. Schue laughs, one of those things that he sometimes makes in totally inappropriate times.

"I had it all planned out" I continue, with tears in the eyes and the crying tearing my throat. I settle my hair and sniffle. "I was gonna make it big on Broadway and maybe do a Woody Allen movie" I sniffle again. "And then when we were ready, I would just…" my ideas get cloudy with every moment, "come back, and he'd be teaching here, and I'd walk through whose doors, and I would just say 'I'm home'".

I can actually see myself in that door, about two of three years in the future, hoping that everything remains as it should remain. I think… I think I should follow the same path as him.

"And then we would live happily ever after".

"It's a good plan" Mr. Schue says, and looks at me. The fight against him is useless. "Did you tell him?"

"I didn't have to. He knew" I nod and force myself to smile.

"And… now what?"

"I don't know" the tears rolls freely down my cheeks, it's not that if I really care that they're there. They show me that what I felt for him was real. "Something different"

"Maybe something better" he intervenes.

"I just… I don't think that that's possible" I look at the chairs and for a moment it seems that I can see him there, smiling and waving. "He was my person".

As my person I had planned a lot of things that we would do together, moments that we would remember for the rest of our lives, songs that, even when he doesn't liked them, he would end up singing just to make me happy. That goes away in a part of my tears and the pain that compresses my chest.

"But thank you so much for doing this. I felt like I didn't know if I would be able to sing again, but now I know that I can".

That, right there! For a moment I almost achieve that he joins in my suffering, he has to. He could explode or something if he doesn't let it go.

"And I know that there have been a lot of memorials for him, but I had this made, and I was hoping that we could hang it in here".

Mr. Schue walks around the piano and places next to me when I finish removing the lid of the box. He sighs and almost like a reflex a nervous laugh escapes from me.

I look the picture and the phrase for a moment, but I focus more in the picture. I can see him posing, with that look that sometimes was scattered in heaps of other things, but that always returns to what he was doing, or he pretended to do.

"Did he really say that?" we both chuckle.

"He was smart, just, you know, in an… in an untraditional kind of way" we chuckle again, but deep down I'm scattered, broken. I'm lost.

"Come on, let's… let's hang it right over there".

In the wall he looks completely different, like the person who really tried to give a huge change to the school, to New Directions, to me; to all the people that ever walked and step in this room.

I put my head on the shoulder of Mr. Schue, and he places his chin over my head. I start to sob and he hugs me, swaying slightly from right to left, like a lullaby, which only manages to remember me the times when I was in the same emotional situation, for my huge dramas, and Finn came, like a superhero, to help me.

I will miss each and every one of those actions that could make me feel loved no matter what.

"By the way" I swore, with every fiber of myself, that I would not do it, but I have to do so. "Did you know of Quinn is aware?"

"She is. Santana told me she's at home. I guess… well, you know…"

"I know; it's tough for her too".

Perfect, I can't help it. It's one of those actions against which someone cannot fight without its power becomes stronger and can't think of anything else. It's for her sake, and mine, but I see more for her. I never thought that would happen.

"I'll go talk to her".

Quinn's POV

"Quinny? A girl is looking for you".

"Mom… I told you I don't want to see anyone…"

I bury my head in the pillow while another compression closes my throat and makes me to cry again. The sheets caught in my fists are covering my nose, my pillows are stained with eyeliner. My eyes hurt for so many hours crying, but I can't help it.

Who would not react like this?

"But I do want to see you"

The compression disappears, the reason why almost in a total depression mixes with the presence of who was supposed to be his wife and the woman who would live with him for the rest of their lives.

The girl who at some time I wished to have in my arms, to spend the night at my house more often than our strange friendly relationship allowed, to who I wanted to apologize a thousand and one times for the kind of treatment and things I made her go through.

I move my head from the pillow and sit up, I snort and turn the head to the right. She gives me a depressing and very mechanical smile.

"Rachel… what are you doing here?"

"I needed to know something about you" I throw to the floor the bunch of used tissues and she sits on the edge. She takes off her coat and leaves it on her lap. "I thought you'd be in the school".

I snort, put my knees closer to my chest and I stare at a point in the space, like if the walls were that kind of important or relevant. I need to change the color, pink is the color for a little girl. But, right now, I want to paint them black… like my thoughts, the color that probably my heart have. Why him?

"I was going to… I wanted to sing…"

I sniffle and open a new box of tissues, the third in the day. And I've been awake only for two hours, the fact that Kurt sends me a massage with that frightening and shocking new make me to spend the whole day in bed, between dozing and living in nightmares.

"I wanted to sing Make You Feel My Love; I figured it would be an appropriate song, so intimate… but… well…" I shrug and back to look up. I don't know how long she'd been watching me, with the eyes open wide.

"What?" she asks, taking one of the tissues and cleans her eyes and nose. I didn't realize when she started to cry, but it's not as if I had asked myself how long I've been crying and screaming against the pillow.

It's simply that I can't believe it…

"You were there, I couldn't do it with you in there…"

«Because I couldn't use the song I had planned for such a wonderful guy to also try to confess what I feel for you. It would have been very confusing for both of us».

We stay quiet, letting the tears fall, the sobs to be heard, that one or another wail be the only sound that floods the room, also with the few times in which we take deep breaths or sighs.

What happened? Kurt didn't say. Maybe he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe an assault that went wrong, but who would dare to attack Finn? He was freaking tall.

It hurts and makes me cranky to know that I was one of the last to find out what happened. It's been days since his death, and I just found out this morning. But to be honest I really appreciate it, the midterm exams at Yale are too complicated and extensive bitches, I couldn't sleep well; mourn for hours has left me completely exhausted.

I want to sleep… like Finn…

I hear that Rachel laughs from nowhere, a laugh that resembles when she recall one of those memories that can make you smile by force. I have tried that the whole day but I can't. Now I can't recall any good memory, not one where Finn wasn't there, and they're not that kind.

God, I miss him so much.

"I can remember the first time when I sang with him, I can still see his horror face and his wishes to leave. I can almost hear what he was thinking when…"

"Rachel… shut up, please…"

She's stunned for a second but finally nods and spent playing with the hem of her skirt.

The memories I can recall are only those in which I took advantage from him, in which y was abusing from his 'different' intelligence, how gullible he was, how easy it was to cave him into my whims.

I thank that she go out with Rachel, that way it wasn't that easy to trick him.

"I also remember that time when…"

I don't know who is the person acting instead of me, but in a blink I see the smile in her face, in another she has her face looking to the left and a red mark on her cheek. The palm of my right hand tingles a little.

"I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!" I stand up so quickly I get dizzy. "I don't want to know nothing, NOTHING, about what you went through! I don't want to know anything about him in the past! I don't want you to talk about him like if he were going to appear anytime!"

And yes, the next comes as toxic phlegm.

"FINN IS DEAD! Understand it!"

She shrugs her shoulders and bows her head, snorts again and a small smile appears in her lips. I feel that the compression in my chest disappears a little, but I still feel I breathe forcefully. What I said was a boost of idiocy, nothing more. I didn't mean to.

But it's true, he's gone… he´s gone… forever…

"I… I just wanted…"

Another slap, now I make her look at the right side. A shrink go out of my throat and hand is prepared to give her another slap if she dares to say anything else about him. This time she holds her cheek and looks up, she strives to not start crying and her cheeks get gradually red until the color is similar to a ripe cherry.

"Hit me many times as you want! That will not prevent me to say something about him!" she breaths deep and tries to fight her cracking voice. "He was important for both of us, Quinn, even when you don't want to keep listening about him. He was the one who joined us in the club, which led us to become, partly, friends; he took us to remember him and try to pay tribute to his achievements".

"Rachel…" I complain, running my hands over my face and intertwining them behind my head.

"Quinn, enough, we have to talk about it. It might us both, we could go ahead" she stretches out and I force myself to stretch one on my hands, she intertwines our fingers. "Together".

«Together. Together. Together». Her words echo through every corner of my head. I wanted us to be together since we sang that mash-up, since she opened a little more to show her wounds and disagreements. And… it kills me, it eats me alive, it destroys me for the fact that I know I am the reason why she doesn't feel as beautiful as she is.

Yes, I am fully aware that I am beautiful, one of the prettiest girls who treads to McKinley. And she is too, in her way… because, unlike me, she doesn't strive to be, it's something natural. I suppose, naturally, I had to fall in love with her for that.

"After joining the glee club, the first song he sang was…"

"I told you to shut the fuck up for a damn…!"

My left hand was about to strike the slap, millimeters from touching her, but she manages to intercept me, she pulls me by both hands with a strength I didn't knew she had and makes me to be totally closer to her.

It happens, she kiss me.

A light touch if her cracked lips against mine. She retracts the head but I threw myself forward, not wanting to be apart from what I've wanted to do for almost two years.

She takes me by the shoulders and pulls me away, bringing me down to the bed and the pillows. She curls up with me and I hug her from behind, pulling her body closer to mine. I slide my hands down her stomach until I intertwine them in her womb, she contracts with every one of my movements but eventually her hands found mine, intertwining.

My eyelids are too heavy and I feel that in anytime I'll fall asleep.

"Promise me you will never leave me".

I know that I ask for something that at this point, and with what happened to the most beloved person in the whole universe for both of us, in part, is somewhat difficult. But I don't think it's impossible.

"I… I promise" she says.

I'm not sure if she really said it from the heart or if she said it just because I want her to say it. But anyway I bury my face in her neck, letting her scent bring me sweet dreams.