Chapter 1: Prologue: Physically Ill
Story Summary: "He hits you doesn't he?" She places a hand on her cheek and peers into the mirror opposite her before her gaze drops to the floor and she begins to sob silently. He didn't know how he managed to do it- this girl normally turned him into a stuttering pile of jelly- but somehow Finn rose up off the bench and collected her into his arms. Finchel AU, possible triggers.
A/N: I AM BEGINNING A COMPLETE STORY OVERHAUL!
So this was my first huge undertaking as a fanfic writer that was originally published in 2013- I spent nine months on it. I'd written some drabble before but this was my first story and had the biggest response, so I'm going back and start editing and updating each chapter- rounding it all up with a brand new epilogue that I promised you all years ago when the story came to an end. I've wanted to do this for a while but recent interest in the story and new reviews has prompted me back into action. (Thank you guest reviewer). So far I have only edited this first chapter, if you have never read before you can go ahead and read it all but just know that I have some grammar editing and possibly minor tweaks to the story. Maybe I exaggerated when I called it an overhaul? I'm not changing anything maaajor. Thank you so much for clicking on my *not so little* story! I hope you all enjoy it… for a second time.
(Just for a little background, this story is set in their senior year, with some elements from the show but is mostly AU.
Finn and most of the guys on the football team never joined the Glee club and I introduced a new character, Zach.
This is mostly from Finn's POV but occasionally from Rachel's.
I'm considering cross posting on my new AO3? I hope you guys enjoy it! Also I don't own Glee or any of the characters.)
That curl.
It was that one little curl.
It was hanging loosely out of her bun, achieving a look that was perfectly put together, yet still messy.
And how better to describe Her? When she laughed her musical laugh that little curl would bounce up and down and drive him absolutely crazy. He felt the urge to reach out to the seat in front of him to let free all of her perfect little chestnut ringlets. He wanted so badly for her to turn around, so he could smell her perfume that reminded him of hot cocoa on an early winter morning. He just wanted to see her gorgeous smile.
Maybe tomorrow he would ask if he could borrow a pencil or something.
But she wasn't there the next day, or the day after that, or at all the whole week.
Staring into the emptiness where her pocket-sized figure belonged, he thought he could actually feel the space where she belonged opening up inside of his chest. The longer he stared, the more positive he was that this girl was making him physically ill. If he could only just have a glimpse of those sun-kissed legs strutting down the hallway, or just hear the sound of her laughter ringing through the class, then maybe he wouldn't be spending yet another sleepless night looking up his symptoms on Web MD and being completely convinced he had cancer.
This girl was driving Finn up the wall; even the graceful curve of her neck that he had practically memorized from staring at in class all day drove him nuts. But the moment he set his mind on talking to her he became completely paralyzed, resulting in the only words he had ever said to her being: "um, uh, I mean- I'm sorry, never mind, dammit!"
The only thing that could have made up for his idiocy in that moment was the wind chime laugh that he heard afterwards, and her yelling "See you later," to him as he stormed down the hallway, his cheeks ablaze.
He remembered how he got home that afternoon and ran straight up to his room and blasted some Def Leppard. He knew that his mom hated it when he did that, but at least he would have his thoughts all to himself. He lay down on the bed and played the scene over and over in his mind.
She had looked particularly beautiful that day, her hair curled and splayed out over both shoulders of her favorite short white and green dress with the Christmas sweater pattern on it. A pair of winter boots gave the outfit that playful hint of sexiness to the otherwise saintly innocence that just made her so very Rachel Berry. She was leaning up against her locker and talking about how romantic she thought Christmas was, she was speaking to a few of her friends- was it Mercedes and Tina? He couldn't remember. He was so fixated on those full and pouty lips of hers while she spoke that he almost forget to process what she was saying. "We should decorate the school more around Christmas time!" she said as she got more intense about the topic at hand, "I want to see mistletoe in every hallway and be able to smell those Christmas trees!" Her friends giggled, "Mistletoe, huh Berry? Who are you trying to snatch up so early in the holiday season?" Rachel flushed, and it was then that Finn noticed she had almost a glow about her skin… holy crap this girl was gorgeous. But there was something off, what appeared to be a little too much makeup on one side of her cheek actually looked like a partially healed bruise upon closer inspection. How on earth would that get there? He shook off his distraction and listened in again, "Christmas time is so romantic don't you think? I mean there's just this feeling in the air, and everything gets so chilly, and you're just looking for someone to keep you warm for the holidays. Inside and out…" she finished with a sad smile. They all nodded knowingly and that's when Finn was in trouble.
He had unknowingly been getting a bit too close to listen in on their conversation and now he was about 5 feet away from the group- and staring. He caught himself too late, "Can I help you?" Rachel pierced through his thoughts with her question and those eyes. Eyes, like deep chocolate pools and he found himself absolutely lost and swimming in their decadence. And that was when he just ran for it, followed only by the giggles of Rachel's friends behind him. He was embarrassed to hell and scared out of his mind that she thought he was just some creep now- like that Jacob Ben Israel guy.
It looked like it would be just another night spent clinging desperately to the pillow that he wished so much was the soft and tiny frame of one Miss Rachel Berry.
But that was almost two weeks ago, and now she wasn't here. Where was she? He mulled things over in his mind as he continued to stare into her empty seat. He remembered how she looked last week during his daily waiting-for-Rachel-to-pass-my-locker-on-her-way-to-fifth-period ritual. She looked sad as she kicked up the pretend dust in the hallway. Did she look at him as she brushed past? No, she couldn't possibly have. She furrowed her brow and took a deep breath as she continued on her way to class, barely even aware of his existence.
And that was when he started worrying about her.
If he had thought that this girl had made him sick before, then boy was he in for the ride of his lifetime. Every day after that she looked a little bit sadder. She was still her determined and strong self, but now with a touch of sadness. He wanted to talk to her, wanted to tell her that it was going to be okay while he soothed away the tears.
And on the day he had finally gathered enough courage to talk to her, she had disappeared; leaving her seat- and his newly brittle heart, empty.
