Author's Note: Finchel's really the only Glee couple I ship (pun unintended har har). I decided there's not nearly enough good Finchel fic out there, so I decided to try my hand at it.
As for the setting, I didn't want it to be present time and I didn't want it to be a futurefic. I also wanted to put them in a real historical setting. Thus, Titanic!Finchel.
Finn and Rachel are the only characters from Glee that will have a roll in this. The chapters are going to be really short, but that will allow me to have more of them and update more often, as the actual trip takes place over about five days.
That's all for now :)
He stood on the dock, several worn suitcases by his feet, and stared at the gigantic steamer ship that was floating in the harbour. The steam that billowed from its engines drifted up to merge with the foggy sky, smoky black on light grey.
There was a reason it was called Titanic, he thought wryly to himself. It was surely the largest ship he'd ever seen. And here he was presented with the opportunity to sail on it, the first ever luxury ocean liner, across the Atlantic Ocean towards America, with everything he owned packed into two bags by his feet.
America. The name still sent a thrill through his body. America was the land of promise: it was the place people went when they had nothing, or they didn't know what they were looking for. It was the place where those people made their dreams a reality.
Finn Hudson was not a rich man; he wasn't particularly intelligent or confident or motivated. But he was sailing to America, and he was going to make a name for himself. He was determined to make it that far at least, because he had made a promise.
It was a promise he had made before he could even talk, when his father had gone missing on a trans-Atlantic flight more than twenty years ago. Then, he had been searching for America, with a goal that was very similar to Finn's. Now, at twenty-two, Finn looked to finish his father's goal for him.
A small part of him admitted that part of the goal was for himself. He was twenty-two years old, and he didn't know who he was. He had been drifting, lost, for most of his life. He needed something to hold him down. He needed an anchor. And he thought that maybe America would be that anchor; that it would be for him what it had become for so many others.
He looked down at the third-class ticket in his hand. It had taken a lot of work to find the money just to pay for that single ticket. Months of working at a tire shop for practically nothing, trying to earn the money he needed in time for the voyage. He had thought he would never make it; with only a couple of months before the Titanic set sail he was still a couple hundred dollars short. For his birthday the previous month his mother, along with his step-father and -brother, had provided him with the remaining money. He had been speechless.
"Oh, honey," his mother had told him, somewhat tearfully, "we know that you've been trying to find yourself. And maybe America's not the answer, but it seems like a good place to start looking."
As always, Finn hadn't known exactly what to say. "Thanks," he had said at last, putting as much emotion as he could into that single word.
His mother had understood; she always did. She had hugged him tightly, saying, "I'll miss you. We all will."
"I'll come back," he had said, but it wasn't a promise. He didn't know where he belonged, but he knew it wasn't here.
Many times since that night he had wondered if he was doing the right thing. Was leaving everything he knew and loved behind for a different world daring or just stupid? He had considered throwing his ticket away, ripping it to pieces, giving it to a stranger. But his heart continued to pull him towards the Titanic, towards America, towards the open sea in which his father had lost his life.
Sighing, he glanced down at his watch. It was just after seven; the Titanic had already been docked for an hour. He knew it would likely be several hours before the third class passengers would be asked to board, but he was too anxious to walk around. Instead he sat himself down on one of his suitcases and planted his feet firmly on the ground, just in case he came to the realization that he had lost his mind.
You can't back out of this now, Hudson, he told himself. You're in this, for better or for worse.
He gulped. It was okay for him to be afraid, wasn't it? He remembered his mother telling him once that all the best men had fears, and weren't afraid to admit them. She had also told him that bravery wasn't having no fears, it was facing the ones you did have.
Well here he was, facing one of his fears. And he was going to do it; he was going to board the Titanic and sail to America and make a name for himself and make his mother proud.
He looked again at the giant ship waiting at the dock to set sail on her maiden voyage. A long line of first class passengers extended from the ramp leading to the ship. Finn could tell they were first class because of their clothing, the expensive leather quality of their suitcases. They were the kind of suitcases that couldn't be used as seats; their owners were the kind of people that would never sit on a suitcase, anyway.
The line seemed to hardly be moving at all. As time passed by there was nothing for Finn to do but sit on his father's old suitcase on the harbour of Cherbourg; nothing for him to do but sit and watch and wait.
Please tell me what you think! Is this worth continuing?
