A/N: Yes, it's a new story. Again. And the others are still not finished. But bear with me - I had to get this out of my system. I fully blame my fildos for infecting me with their angstmonsters and driving my smutmonster into temporary hiding (under Eera's rock, most likely!).

But this is not what you think it is. I am aware this first chapter is a bit... gloomy. It's the end of Junior year and the Glee club's about to perform at Nationals. And Finchel's still very much apart. Word of warning: if you don't like Finn, you're reading the wrong fic. Welcome to the messed up mind of post-breakup Finn. It doesn't get any darker than this.

Daybreak, break me, and take me home
This place, was in me, from the start

It's the hardest part
When day turns dark
With nothing left for me to hold
I'll grow old alone
If I don't close
The space that's all around this heart

And I'm losing myself
without some, without someone else
And I'm losing myself, myself

"Wait, where's Berry?"

Finn is stretching out his legs and going for the wallet in his jeans pocket when he hears Santana ask the question. She's still leaning into him, and her hand's burning a hole into his thigh if she's not going to move it soon, but he doesn't really care. He's just had a really nice dinner, and they totally snuck some bourbon past Mr Schue into all their cokes (courtesy of Puck's hidden supplies) so now all he really wants is a bed. Thinking of anything other than sleep sounds like a chore now.

But he guesses he should put in some sort of effort, since he's co-captain and all that. So he sits up a bit. He casts a lazy eye around the table. She's right – Rachel isn't there anymore. He eyes the members of the club one by one, but they all shake their heads or shrug. Until his eyes meet those of Kurt.

"She left."

There's something in his brother's eyes that makes him look away. He's glad when Santana steps up for him.

"What? When?"

"Over an hour ago, actually. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to find out you missed her presence so enormously."

Kurt's eyes flicker over to Santana, the sarcasm dripping from his words so much that it's not even lost on Finn at this time of the night. He catches himself wincing, and tries to hide it by nervously fiddling with the zipper on his wallet

"Well, you could just keep your big mouth shut, babyface."

"Oh no worries, I don't want to make her any more miserable than she already was, Satan-a."

When Finn raises his head to look at Kurt, he finds his brother's eyes fixed on him instead of Santana. They burn into him with this kind of intensity, like he's having this whole conversation with Santana but it's like Kurt's eyes are trying to talk to him instead. It makes him uneasy.

"Oh boohoo! Let me guess, she's gone to cry some more over missing her chance for a solo?"

"San!" he hisses at her, and pulls away the hand still gripping his thigh. Her sharpened nails were digging into him; she still doesn't know when enough is enough. It hurts.

"Seriously? She's more likely crying over the way you tw-"

"Can it, both of you!" Mercedes' roar comes from across the table and ends the conversation.

"Hell, I'm close to crying myself over the way you two are carrying on right in front of her," he hears Kurt mutter under his breath, however.

Unease flips to annoyance. It's not like that! He wants to tell him – once again – but now Kurt's looking down at the table in front of him, trying studiously to avoid meeting Finn's eyes.

And by the time they've all paid up, and are ready to leave the restaurant, he's stopped caring about it again. It's pointless, anyway – they just believe what they want.

It's not until they're all crammed into a taxi cab that he thinks of her sitting in one just like that, by herself, and suddenly it's all he can do to laugh hysterically because he has this irrational fear that he's going to cry if he stops.

Someone's banging on his door not even 10 minutes after they got back, and Finn can barely muster the energy to get up and open it.

"What?" he growls at Kurt who is standing just outside his door with an expression on his face that reminds him too much of the one he wore earlier. He's not in the mood for getting into some stupid argument now; all he wants is to be left alone and sleep.

"Rachel's not here," his brother says.

Rachel. Why does it always have to come back to her? He's so tired of it.

"So?"

Kurt stares at him for a long moment, the expression on his face gradually changing to disbelief.

"SO? Is that really all you've got to say?"

He knows Kurt expects something different from him, but it's not like there's anything he can do about it. Because it's Rachel they're talking about. Why doesn't anyone get that she's not his responsibility anymore? Santana was right earlier - she's probably off sulking somewhere; it's what Rachel's best at.

"Look," he starts to say, no longer bothering to hide his annoyance. "If she thinks she can spend the last night before the competition playing drama queen and hoping to put some kind of guilt trip on us all, then she's really mistaken. Here's the thing – I don't fucking care. And neither should you. So why don't you g—"

He doesn't get any further because suddenly Kurt's right in front of him, and there's this look on his face, and for a moment Finn thinks the smaller boy's about to punch him, and he's so shocked by the possibility of that happening that he forgets what he was going to say - but then the moment passes and all that happens is that Kurt's eyes shut tightly as he's taking a long breath.

In the sudden silence, Finn becomes aware of something.

Sometimes, when he drinks too much coffee or energy drinks, he gets this weird feeling in his chest, like he's somehow swallowed stones and they're pulling him down while someone's playing the drums with a really heavy, slow beat.

Even though he's not had any coffee or stuff like that, it's just like that now.

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. He's waiting for Kurt to say something, even though he knows – he knows – it's not something he wants to hear. But it's like he's rooted to the spot, and all he can feel is that slow, loud pounding of the thing in his chest.

When Kurt finally opens his mouth to address him, his voice is a dangerous edgy growl unlike anything he's ever heard from him.

"Listen to me, Finn: when your ex-girlfriend, who I am sure should be classified as clinically depressed, suddenly disappears in the middle of the night after being subjected to what I can only call the worst example of tactlessness ever, then there is something seriously wrong. I know you prefer to walk through your life totally oblivious to whatever's happening around you these days, but would you please pull your head out of the sand and realize that what you are doing isn't just destructive to you but to those who love you, too?"

. . . .

"DAMNIT, FINN!"

Kurt's shouting at him, and all Finn can do is stare at the way his eyes are filling with moisture.

"Can't you see how much you hurt her? How much all of this hurts her?"

The smaller boy moves his head from left to right, his eyes lingering on the scenery outside the hotel window for a moment, where the night sky is barely visible past the millions of lights. When Kurt's eyes finally meet his again, the moisture's turned to tears spilling over his cheeks.

"All she's dreamed about for the last year was you and this damned city. She had it all planned out - what she was going to show you first, where you were going to have pictures taken together, where to take you for dinner… all that. Don't tell me you don't know! Don't tell me you're that clueless!"

Finn looks past him, staring at those lights out there. There are so many. They look like a million bright, twinkling stars if you squint your eyes a bit. A city made of stars. She's always wanted to become one of them. She's had it all figured out – a career on Broadway, a couple of Tony's by 25, babies raised in the Jewish faith, marrying him- he squeezes his eyes shut against the memories flooding his brain. No, no, no.

He doesn't need this now.

"Kurt, you don't—" he begins, turning around, but words fail him once more when he looks into his step-brother's eyes.

"That's right, I don't. I don't have a clue what's going on in your head. This isn't you! None of this is you! This whole thing with Santana, not wanting to sing, pretending not to care about Rachel?"

He doesn't know what to say to that.

"You know what? This is pointless. Have a good night, Finn."

And then Kurt's gone, and it's just himself again. He hears the door click shut behind him. He's alone in this room, so he does what he's supposed to do, what he wanted to do before Kurt came by; he shuffles back to the bed and lies down on it, and waits for sleep.

'berry is missing'

'I kno'

'u need 2 find her'

'no I don't'

'u have 2"

'NO!.!'

'we need her tmrw'

'she's not singing'

'fine U need her tmrw'

'NO'

'ur not fooling me'

'I don't need her'

'STOP IT'

. . .

'u r the only one who has a chance 2 find her'

'why?'

'u know her'

'not anymore'

'WE BOTH KNOW BETTER. DON'T YOU EVEN FUCKING PRETEND WITH ME. I CAN DEAL WITH IT. YOU CAN'T. GO OUT THERE AND FIND HER.'

'ENOGH!'

'get over yourself'

'WHY THE FUCK DO YOU CARE?'

'REALLY? YOU WANA GET NTO THAT NOW? FUCK YOU!'

'sorry'

. . .

'San? Sorry!'

. . .

'SANTANA! COME ON!'

. . .

'I'm a moron San. But a sorry moron.'

'just go find her OK?'

'maybe'

'you'll be the fucking glee club hero again'

'shut up'

The thing with trying to forget something if it's something to do with feelings and stuff? Yeah it doesn't always work so well. Especially not for him.

It's like he's doomed to remember all of it. Just when he thinks he might just have caught a break, it's all coming crashing down on him again.

Santana was right. He knows exactly where to find Rachel Berry, even in this city that he's never been in before. He remembers the conversation they had about it, almost word for word.

Figures he's got some kind of memory super power when it comes to Rachel Berry talk. Maybe he really is doomed.

"I'm going after her," he says to Kurt barely 5 minutes later, when his brother's finally answered to his knocking.

"Finn-"

Finn gives his step-brother a long look, daring him to say anything now that he's changed his mind to do what Kurt wants. After a moment Kurt nods.

He's still not entirely certain why he's doing this. Maybe because Santana is right. And maybe because Kurt is, too. He owes her this much, after everything.

"I would just like to point out that it's a big city, Finn. It's not Lima. You're not going to simply run into her walking down the street. You had better think- no, actually, you had better know exactly where to look, because I don't think we can take on Nationals without you two tomorrow."

Finn rolls his eyes at that, his hand already on the door handle.

"Drama queen."

"I'm serious, Finn."

"Neither of us is singing leads, so I don't think you've got to worry about it if we didn't show up," he says, and clears his throat uncomfortably. He doesn't like being reminded of not getting anything to sing, but he's dug that hole for himself, so he has to live with it now. However much it stings. "But who says I don't know where to find her?"

Kurt just looks back at him and slowly raises an eyebrow. "You know where to find her?"

For a moment he feels like making an issue of it. He's so sick and tired of everyone always questioning him. It seems like that's the only thing he's heard for the last 5 months. He knows he's not smart, he knows it, right? He knows he could have made better choices, he knows he's messed up in so many ways, he knows he's never going to amount to anything. He knows. And he's accepted that now. But damnit, sometimes…. sometimes he thinks it would be so nice to hear something different again.

But it's only Kurt. It's not worth getting fussed about. Let it drop, no point getting angry over it now.

"Yes."

And with that, he leaves, closing the door softly behind him.

He's in the otherwise empty elevator on his way down into the lobby when it hits him: this kind of odd, hollow dread at the pit of his stomach, and the more he's thinking about it the worse it gets. It's not like the strange feeling that washed over him when he realized San was being serious about him going after Rachel; it's not at all the oh-shit-I'm-gonna-have-to-go-fix-this-cos-no-one-else-will feeling that was a mix of annoyance and a little bit of fear (cos he'gotta admit he's afraid of the drama every conversation with her would inevitably turn into so he's been avoiding them like the frigging plague).

It's this whole other thing. This giant, big, I'm-so-close-to-fucking-freaking-out-just-thinking-about-it thing that he can't really put a label on. This I'mmissingoutI'mdeadinsideI'mnothingbutahollowshade feeling that freaks him out so much he feels like crying.

Look who's being a drama queen now.

What freaks him out most right now is this feeling that he's felt it before. And not just once… If everything is really quiet, if there's no noise, no distraction, no other people - and no annoying voice in his head doing a running commentary on all the shit in his life – then all that is really left is this same dread. It's like it's there all the time, but he never notices because, let's face it he's become a total ace at distracting himself, and maybe this is like one of those things he saw once on Star Trek, where your brain gives you like a memory wipe every time and then you get this de-jah something and you see into your own mind and suddenly there's all these other times you felt exactly like that. But there's supposed to be this moment of super clarity, where everything just makes sense, and it doesn't happen like that for him – he's just more confused. And shit scared. Maybe it's not a déjà vu (that's what it's called).

When he exits the elevator at ground level, he has this odd feeling that even though he's at the bottom and leaving it, he's still somehow stuck inside and going further down. But it's only for a second, and then he remembers what he's trying to do - gotta get a map of that place, wonder if the reception guy has one -, and the moment is past. And that dread once more forgotten.

The song this story was inspired by is Bonnie Dune's Keep Me (weird, right?).

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