Finn could barely feel his fingers as he finished sloppily piling his tie into what appeared to be an acceptable knot. Frankly, he didn't care how prim he looked. He was only there to speak. This wasn't goodbye. It would never be goodbye. She promised that she wouldn't leave him, and this was no exception. She couldn't do that to him, right?
A fresh batch of tears blurred his vision, but he needed to stay strong. The past week had been pure Hell, but he wasn't going to show that on his face. It was his job to be the leader. She had always reminded him of that.
But she had left him alone. She had left him weak and broken, fighting with all of his might to hold onto any strain of hope that she could come back; that he could take her into his arms one last time and rock all of her troubles away. He was stuck in a balancing act on the boundary of blue and white. Every time he thought of losing her forever, he slipped into the blue zone. The sunlight hurt his eyes. Flowers made him sick to his stomach. He began to lose sight of any and all beauty in the world, because nothing was as beautiful to him as she was, and she had left. She had broken her promise.
Sometimes, however, he would remember the good times. He would remember their first kiss on the stage in high school. He would remember their first slow dance at the senior prom. Their time together was sacred, and the memories that accompanied it were the only things that could drag him out of the blue and into the light once more. He would smile. He would laugh. He would spend hours flipping through tattered photo albums stocked with images of her face beaming up at him, and suddenly, the world didn't seem so bad.
But she was gone. Her promise meant nothing anymore. She had left so many scars upon him, and he would never be able to get those times back.
Because death is forever.
"Finn, it's time." A voice called from the doorway.
Finn was barely aware as Mr. Schuester guided him outside to the grounds where the funeral was being held. He didn't even notice when he was directed towards a seat in the front row, next to her fathers. He didn't even flinch when Quinn, who was seated behind him, patted his back gently.
Somewhere in front of him, a priest began to speak the traditional opening words of a funeral, but Finn wasn't paying any attention. His gaze was locked on the glittering golden casket that was perched on a pedestal sheathed in rose-colored sheets. Of course it was colorful.
It was Rachel.
The priest's words flew past Finn as he gazed at the casket, utilizing every ounce of his willpower to keep from leaping out of his chair and tearing the damn thing open. It wasn't fair that he was allowed to be out there, breathing the fresh air around him, while she was in that box, cold to the world. She had been too young to die. She hadn't even graduated high school yet. She had been perfectly healthy and cheerful before the diagnosis.
"Finn Hudson, Ms. Berry's significant other, would like to say a few words, I believe." The priest announced solemnly, snapping Finn out of his reverie.
With some assistance from Puck, Finn left his seat and headed towards the podium in the front, reaching into his pocket for the speech he had prepared. The paper was tear-spotted and wrinkled, making it nearly illegible, but Finn didn't care. He wouldn't need it anyway. All of his words to Rachel were coming from his heart, not his pen. She was worth more than ink.
Swallowing back tears of grief, Finn yanked himself out of the blue and into the light. For a moment, he wasn't speaking to the Glee Club and Rachel's relatives, he was speaking to Rachel. He could see her, standing in front of him, smiling brightly as usual. She looked so lively and healthy.
It was that image of her memory that gave him the strength to speak.
"I-I'm not really good with words, but I need to say something." He stuttered nervously, using all of his might to picture Rachel in the crowd before him.
"Cancer is a tricky thing. We didn't see it coming. We didn't know what to do to stop it, and it acted fast when it got here. It acted way too fast, Rach. It was her lungs. Her voice went bad one day, and I remember driving her to the doctor. I thought she had a cold again. I thought she was going to be fine, but then they took her in for testing or something, and that was that. She had lung cancer. I was so worried. I didn't know what to do to comfort her when she started missing school. I wasn't sure how to help when she starting losing her hair."
Finn paused for a moment to make sure Rachel was still there, beaming up at him. He needed her there. He couldn't do it without her.
"I didn't even know what to say when she was lying there in front of me, dying. I watched it happen, and I didn't know what to do. Telling her I loved her just wasn't enough. I couldn't save her. I couldn't help her beat it." He choked, desperately blinking back tears.
"I miss Rachel. Every night at 10 or so, she used to call me on the phone, and when I asked her why, she told me her body told her she wanted to hear my voice. I miss Rachel. The smell of her shampoo. The way she could always convince me to sing her another song. When you love someone like I loved her, they're a part of you. It's like you're attached by this invisible tether, and no matter how far away you are, you can always feel them. And now, every time I reach for that tether, I know there's no one on the other end, and I feel like I'm falling into nothingness, and then I remember Rachel. I remember a life lead with no enemies, no resentments, no regrets and I'm inspired to get up out of bed and go on. I miss Rachel so much it feels like piece of me has been ripped off. Just one more time I want to hold her. Just ten more seconds. Is that too much to ask? For ten more seconds to hold her? But I can't, and I won't, and the only thing keeping me from being swallowed whole by sadness is that Rachel would kill me if I did. So for now I'm just going to miss her. I love you, Rach."
At that, Finn pocketed his speech with trembling hands and sprinted out of the tent without a backwards glance. He couldn't break down in front of all those people, but he could feel the blue consuming him already. He needed to escape. He needed to run.
Rachel would have known exactly what to say in a situation like this. She would have darted after him and forced him to stop and listen to her.
But she was gone.
Collapsing into full-blown sobs, Finn felt as his whole world went dark and blue. The sun shining on the lawn seemed to vanish from the skies, and the nature around him faded from his vision.
All that he could see was Rachel, but she had left him forever.