A/N: This is severely OOC and I apologize profusely for that. XP It's been too long since I've wrote on the spot, and my friend kind of demanded one, so here's the rushed byproduct from twelve a.m. yesterday.

I no own. Grilled cheesus, that's depressing.

To be fair, Finn and Rachel were on a break the first time.

Rachel obstinately overlooked this. Her perfect star record disallowed her to be wrong in any argument, whatsoever. In fact, her gay dads had bought her the right to be right. All the time.

Kurt seriously doubted this, and told her as much.

"To be perfectly honest, what Finn and I had was a relationship based purely on lies and sexual want," Rachel said in her own matter-of-fact way, disregarding Kurt's skepticism. "Finn seems to have gotten his escapades elsewhere, so it was only a matter of time before I did as well. What's the difference?"

"What's the difference?" Mercedes asked incredulously. "Girl, I thought you were at least smart."

"Oh, really?" Rachel raised her eyebrows at the offending musician. Mercedes had gotten on her case too many times in the past, wanting all of her rightful solos and such, and Rachel was eager to take her new friend down a few pegs, regardless of whether they were on good terms or not. "I'm right about everything. Everything. Prove me wrong. If you can."

Mercedes simply snorted eloquently and rolled her eyes, plucking the ornament Rachel was waving about out of the diva's hand and placing it carefully in its crate before stepping between her friend and the tree protectively. "Okay, one, we're taking down the ornaments to give back to their owners, not to throw them against walls and parade the fact that we're always right." Kurt caught her eye and started tugging Rachel's hand to pull her away from Mercedes, on whom she was concentrating a glare too hard to notice herself being steered away a good ten feet. "Secondly, you were on a break the first time. The second time… you were together."

Kurt smiled a sad sympathetic smile at Rachel and patted her glitter covered hands dramatically. "You cheated on him."

Rachel glanced around despairingly. She had been wrong.

Well, there was a first time for everything, right?

Finn lay on his bed, staring blankly at his ceiling.

Really. Blankly. There were no thoughts in his head.

"I should be thinking," he said aloud. "I should be freaking out about Puck, and Rachel, and Christmas, and…" he trailed off.

Now he was freaking out. Quietly. He stared at the ceiling more, making out shapes and patterns, and what he thought might be a star.

"How could she do that to me?" he asked the star. "She cheated on me."

The star, unsurprisingly, remained silent.

"I thought we…" he began. "Not that… I mean…"

Twirls and twists of thoughts were getting tangled in his head, and he was now thoroughly confusing himself. Why was he confused? Why did things like this happen to him? Why was he talking to the ceiling? Why was he getting tongue-tied when he spoke to the ceiling?

Accusingly, he lifted his hand and pointed at the star. "You did this!" he said angrily. "You've made me all confused. Why would you? I never thought you were mean, Rachel. I never thought you'd break my heart."

"Um, are you busy? Should I come back later? You and the ceiling seem to be…having issues?"

Finn jumped up and looked around to find Kurt looking mildly alarmed and more than a little amused.

"I'm not talking to the ceiling."

"Mmhm."

"No, really though."

"Oh, completely."

"I mean it."

"I believe it."

"I'm talking…to Rachel." Only after allowing this phrase to leave his mouth did he realize how schizophrenic he sounded. He opened his mouth to explain further, but Kurt was already nodding understandingly, a sad look in his eyes.

"You know," Kurt started, but then he paused.

"Yeah?"

"I'd kill you if you repeat this, but… Rachel isn't all wrong."

Finn sat up. "Excuse me?"

"Hey, don't interrupt!" he raised his eyebrows, and Finn flopped back down. "It's a lot to forgive, but think about it from her perspective. It might be easier for me, because I'm gay, and all, but try. Santana. She's quite clearly supposed to be the hottest girl around. Rachel has a complex. She's confident in her talents and abilities, but when it comes to looks, she gets jealous, and she feels terrible about herself. She tries so hard to look good." He snorted a little. "I think she just wants to look normal, at least."

Finn protested. "She does—"

"Then what happens? Santana is on her case. All. The. Time. About all of it. You, Puck, herself. She even is insulted in front of you, and you don't defend her."

"She didn't defend me—"

"Yes, but you weren't crying about it, staying up late about it for about a month after that, doubting yourself. Did you know she started a whole extra exercise routine, so that she'd look hotter?"

Finn gaped. "Girls really—?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Yes, Finn. Girls really care about little things like that. Then, you can imagine, Santana and Brittany go on a date with you. She knows it. We all know it. Suddenly, Santana is not just the evil witch who's helped torment her for the last couple years. She's also what Finn Hudson wants. And Rachel Berry wants Finn Hudson. Do the math."

"I hate math."

Kurt, yet again, rolled his eyes. "It's a phrase, Finn. Oh, for goodness's sake, you're hopeless." He sighed and started to turn towards the door.

"Wait! What else?" Finn eyed him with a hopelessness and desperation that showed Kurt that Finn wanted a reason to be with Rachel again. He was just waiting for it.

"Alright, one last justification," he conceded. "Think on this. How did you first get with Rachel? How is that different?"

Finn looked down, contemplating, and Kurt left the room, the door snapping shut echoing in Finn's ears.

"Rachel! Hey! Rachel!"

Rachel Berry turned around, squinting around the parking lot. Her eyes were still sensitive to light, and probably red from the crying bout she had just completed in the car.

"Rachel!"

It was Finn. Finn was jogging up to her, looking like a god. Rachel nervously straightened her top and her skirt, hoisting her bag higher up her shoulder. When he reached her, she ran her hand nervously through her hair.

"Look, Finn, I— Finn?"

Finn had grabbed the hand that was about to touch her head and held it in his as his eyes roamed her face. Her eyes were red, he noted with chagrin, but she definitely looked thinner, unhealthier— not like the full faced, happy Rachel he had grown to love.

"Don't." he said seriously. "You look beautiful. You are beautiful. Santana Lopez is not, and will never be more anything than you. Never change yourself."

Rachel's eyes welled up with tears again, and as Finn was about to blurt out an apology for whatever awful thing he had just said and fix it (No, no, if you wanted to get highlights or pierce your ears, that's totally okay, it's your decision…), she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he cradled her against him. She was sobbing something indistinctly in his chest, and he was stroking her hair and shushing her, because he was quickly becoming alarmed at the prospect of holding a sobbing girl in his arms for another minute. He glanced around unsurely, to find girls looking sentimentally at him. As if he was in a movie. They were enjoying his discomfort. They thought it was sweet.

Girls. How to know if they were happy or sad? Finn awkwardly patted her on the back until she started making sense.

"I didn't mean to— with Puck— I was just so— No excuse— You must hate me— I'm so sorry— I'm so sorry— I'm so—"

Mainly to shut her up, but also because he had been wanting to for about a week now, he pried her face from his chest and planted his lips on hers.

"Words are messy." he said, and her answering smile at his romantic and suave comment was dazzling.

She didn't need to know that he'd practiced saying that to the star on his ceiling for an hour the previous day.

There it was! Review please. Even to tell me it was awful… :D