So I'm sure these past two months have been difficult for us all. Strange to think that he's really gone, and even stranger to think about what Lea is feeling. Anyhow, I'd taken a long, long, long break from writing but I thought this oneshot would be a good thing to start off with. It's sad, so be warned. Not graphic or anything, it just may be a bit depressing. No blood or anything, just alot of inner thoughts in Rachel's head. Also, I'd like to state that I listened to Chopin's Prelude No. 4 in E Minor, Op 28 and Clair de Lune while I wrote this. I highly recommend you all listen to them while you read, they're fantastic.

As always, I do not own Glee or any properties to the songs I mentioned.

Comments are always welcomed and I hope you enjoy this short story. I loved writing it, sad as that sounds.


"You know, you still look just as beautiful, even after all these years."

It happened again, the dream, nightmare, whatever it could be called. It happened again, the third time that week. His voice still rang out, crystal clear, in her head. As if he'd been standing right in front of her. She sat up in bed then took a deep breath. Everything was just as she'd left it a few hours before. Lamps off, rug flat on the floor, television on but muted, and the man next to her snored quietly in his slumber. He barely flinched when she had sat up so abruptly.

Rachel stepped out of bed and her feet landed on the Persian rug that covered nearly every part of the floor in the master bedroom. She pulled on the silky robe that was draped over the worn, leather armchair by the door.

The hallway outside the room was quiet, as it should be at this hour. The blue glow of the moonlight crept through the curtains over the large windows. Light from the city peered in as well, but the noise from down below wasn't so bad tonight. Only a few car horns blaring, some music off in the distance. Not bad.

She drank a whole two glasses full of water before she finally decided to sit and think about the dreams. They'd been the same, all three. She was in a clean, white room. Empty and cold. Then she heard his voice, and of course she knew it was his. There was no other voice as clean, no other voice filled with such warmth as his was. It had been almost eighteen years since she'd heard it last. Eighteen years since she swore off love and happiness.

However, love and happiness had found her once again. After Finn's death, a deep darkness had overcome her, settled into her bones. It had taken her for it's own, pulling her further and further into it's menacing arms. She didn't do anything for a long while, except sleep, that is. Six years she mourned for him. She had nightmares and often had crying fits in her sleep, from which Kurt had to wake her. She even had to go back to Lima for a while, but everywhere she looked, there were reminders of him. Little bits of Finn, peeking out from the corners and shadows.

Six years after his death, another man had found her. Chris had found her at her darkest, brought her out of it, and loved her like she needed to be loved. Eventually, she learned to love him back. She learned how to live again, keeping the hurt part of her heart locked away in a box inside of her. She threw the key out.

Rachel realized that Finn wouldn't have wanted her to stay alone forever. Broadway was waiting, Broadway needed its brightest star. So she threw herself rigorously back into her work, and four Tony awards later, she had a daughter and a husband of her very own. A quaint, two bedroom apartment in the Lower East Side of Manhattan was what she called home, and she was the wife of a wonderful lawyer.

But still, she always knew, and Chris knew too, that no one would find the key that opened the hurt part of her heart. She would still hurt, for as long as she'd live. She'd hurt for him, for the life she never had with him. But Chris loved her with all his heart and soul, and she loved him back, as much as she allowed herself to.

Baby Emily brought joy to both of them. Right away, Rachel began singing to her, preparing her for a life of stardom. As it so turned out, however, Emily hadn't any talent for singing whatsoever. And if she did, she showed no interest. Emily grew to love bugs and dirt and any other nasty thing there was to be found in the city. Rachel was taken aback, but loved her daughter as much anyhow.

Emily would be turning nine soon. Nine years since her baby was born, eleven since her marriage, twelve since she met Chris, and eighteen years since Finn's untimely death.

Now, her life hadn't been all sadness after Finn's death. The first six years, yes. But Chris changed her. He breathed new life into her and set her aflame with light that could shine to the bottom of the ocean. Theatre helped as well, and she was back to singing and won many awards for her time in the industry. Trips round the world to sing to sold out crowds and she even sang for the Queen herself.

Now, as she sat here contemplating those dreams, she wondered what they all meant. What's it mean when you have dreams of your dead fiancee's voice after he's been dead eighteen years? Perhaps she was going insane.

Rachel padded slowly along the cool floors back to the hallway leading to the master bedroom. She stopped at Emily's door, which was plastered with 'Keep Out' posters and drawings of different bugs she'd found in an encyclopedia. Rachel pushed the door open gently and navigated her way across the room, trying not to step on decapitated Barbie dolls and tiny plastic dinosaurs. Emily had gotten a child's microscope set for her eighth birthday, and she kept it in pristine condition on her desk next to her glasses, while the rest of her room was a war zone.

She slept peacefully, the red quilt that Chris's mother had made her pulled securely up to her chin by her little hands. She had dark hair, like Rachel, and of course she'd inherited the nose as well. But she had her father's lips and eyes, kind and soft. Deep blue eyes, like an ocean. A perfect baby girl, that she wished Finn could see.

Stepping over a few more plastic animals, she made her way out of Emily's room and shut the door back. The kid slept through just about anything, including the time when the teenagers across the street had thrown a massive party and the cops had to be called and everything. Emily was only five at the time, but she slept right through the ordeal.

Rachel curled back up in bed and pulled the thick comforter over her face. Chris didn't move a bit. She knew he was tired. He'd been up late working things out for an important case he was in charge of.

Soon, she was back in dreamland, but luckily this time, she did not hear his voice or see his face or feel his hands against hers. She slept dreamlessly, not stirring or moving. It was simply sleep.


A man's voice woke her up again but she didn't startle awake because she knew the voice. Chris was ready for work and he'd brought her coffee as he usually did.

"Have a good day, tell Em I love her when she wakes up. I'll be back for lunch." He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead and she smiled and waved to him.

The television was on some morning news channel and she didn't care much for the news, so she flipped it off. She'd rather have her coffee in silence anyway.

An hour later, little feet made shadows on the floor outside the door. Emily pushed it open and ran into the room, jumping onto the bed next to Rachel. Her little red glasses were pushed far up on her nose. The kid was blind as a bat. She'd worn glasses since her fourth birthday, and Rachel had to admit she looked pretty cute in them.

"Morning Mom. I have lots of things to do today. Saturday is pretty busy for me. I'm going to be studying animal cell structures today. Sounds exciting, right?"

Rachel laughed and nodded, "Yes, it sounds riveting. How about you go find something to eat first though, angel?"

Emily sighed and stood up, nodding her little head a few times. "I'll even make you some. I think I'm having toast."

She nodded and let Emily run off to the kitchen to probably burn a few pieces of bread and set the smoke alarms off.

Sure enough, the smell of burnt bread sent her right to the kitchen. Emily stood on the counter holding a piece of bread in one hand and a fork in the other. The toaster was smoking badly and beeping.

"Umm..Sorry about that, mom. Didn't mean to burn it." She hopped down from the counter and set the bread down.

Rachel smiled and shrugged. "It happens, baby." She kissed Emily's head gently then went to work on making them toast. The bread they ate was 100% vegan and organic. One thing Rachel had never faltered on was her diet, especially when Emily came along. She did her best to provide the healthiest of foods to Emily, but certainly some days they had cheat days.


After breakfast, Emily retreated to her room to continue being the mad scientist Rachel knew she was. And Rachel went back to bed, but instead of sleeping, she took her journal out of the desk drawer and began writing. She hadn't written in the journal since the early days of Emily's childhood. Before that, it was when she'd met Chris. And before that, those six years that she was alone. She couldn't read the letters she wrote after she wrote them. They always stayed turned and covered. But she felt the need to write about the dreams now, and when she'd finished writing, she didn't bother to put the book back. She just held it to her chest, like a security blanket.

She relaxed into the bed and closed her eyes, ignoring the pain in her chest. When had the chest pain even started? Odd that she should be getting sick. She was hardly one to come down with a cold.

But it wasn't simply the chest pain. There was pressure, and the feeling that she had just come back from a long run. But she hadn't. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but she kept hearing his voice in her ears. The pain was intense and scary but then she felt light.

She felt lighter than she ever had before, and suddenly, she was looking down on herself. Her thin body in the bed, holding the black notebook to her chest. But then Emily was there and she was a calm girl, she knew to call 911 then Chris.

Rachel couldn't feel it as her body was lifted onto the board. She couldn't feel it as she was put into the ambulance, or even when they shocked her the first time. But the next time, yes, she felt it. She was sucked back into her body, and everything hurt. Sheer terror overcame her as she realized the gravity of the situation. What was happening? Was she dying? Where was Emily? Chis? Kurt and Blaine? The doctors explained that she'd had a heart attack, but they weren't sure how bad it was. She was going to the hospital now.


It smelled heavily of antiseptic and soap in the hospital room. She shivered in the bed and cautiously took in her surroundings. Many wires and tubes, a bag of fluids, and a bag of some other medicine which had a name she couldn't pronounce printed on it were hooked to her body, keeping her healthy.

The world was spinning slightly and she was handed a glass of water by a man in blue. Then, red glasses appeared before her and she knew who it was. Emily climbed carefully onto the bed to hug Rachel, burying her little head in Rachel's side. Chris sat beside the bed, next to a nightstand with several bouquets of flowers. In the corner, dozens more sat, their bright colors and soft petals shining in the sunlight. Her fans had sent them, Chris said.

She regained her strength and was able to eat on her own at the end of the day, and she held Emily in one arm, and Chris's hand was clutched in her other as they finished the evening quietly watching some television movie.

In the night, well after her family had left, she woke to the sound of Finn's voice again. It was quieter this time, and he seemed so close. Near her face, she felt his breath. She saw the flutter of an eyelash and her heart began to race again. Then he was gone, and she was left wondering what it all meant, what it all was. A nurse checked on her and put more medicine into her veins, then left. The television was on, and a bright blue light was screaming out at her. The sounds from the city below were almost earsplitting, it seemed like. No quiet here, not even in this place. Still though, it felt silent. There was no movement, no people save the nurses.

Finn's voice was in her ears again, whispering to her. He was close, she could tell. She felt the cool air around her and pull her out of her sleep. Then, she was hurting again and Rachel vaguely registered the beeping machines all around her. Then, almost in an instant, she was out of her body once more, floating in space directly above it.

Doctors and nurses charged paddles to the highest setting and sent the volts through her body but she did not wake up. Rachel frowned slightly, knowing full well what this meant. She was dead? She tried to wake herself up, pinching, hitting, slapping, but nothing worked. After several more tries and shots of medications, the doctor checked his watch and called the time of death.


"Rachel." He smirked and stood before her, looking just as he had when they'd been so madly in love.

Rachel, overwhelmed with the events of the day, looked at the ground and turned away from him. "Finn."

"So, you're not happy to see me?"

She let out a quiet sigh and turned back to face him. "No, I'm very happy to see you. Actually, happy is an understatement. I'm just... I don't know. I left them. I left everyone back there. Chris.. Emily."

Finn reached out his hand and took it in his own. "You don't have to be upset. You're good now, you're free."

"Why did this happen? What happened?"

Finn walked behind one of the doctors and read his notes. "Says here that you died of a heart attack...but they aren't so sure. There's also something that says Stress Cardiomyopathy? You.."

"I what?" She piped up from behind him.

"You died of a broken heart, Rachel."


Four days later, Emily wore a simple black dress and Rachel's old pearl necklace with the matching earrings that her fathers gave her for Hanukkah when she was thirteen. She stood somberly in front of a display of flowers surrounding her mother's coffin. Chris stood behind her, and behind them, the entirety of Mckinley High's original Glee Club. Kurt, Blaine, Sam, Santana, Brittany, Quinn, Artie, Tina, Mike, Mercedes, Mr. Schuester, and Mrs. Pillsbury (now Schuester).

After words were said, the group gathered together and did the only thing they knew to do. Sing. Songs were sung, even a few Barbra Streisand to honor ole Berry, and hugs exchanged. Tears fell and quiet, heart-wrenching moans escaped mouths.

Then it was done and all that was left were piles of flowers and several tissues on the ground. The crowd dispersed and reluctantly, Emily would follow Chris back to the car to drive back to Rachel's father's house for the reception. There they left the brightest star of them all, right next to the star quarterback.

It was cold out. The autumn leaves danced on the ground and the sun was setting marvelously over the horizon. Silence.

Years later, Emily looked back on that day as a day of sadness but also one of release. Even at the tender age of eight and three quarters, she knew something was not right about Rachel. She'd known her whole life that her mother was often sad and depressed. She went into fits of loneliness and inconsolable crying, and she muttered one name constantly while in those fits. Finn. She didn't fully understand or know who Finn was until several years after her mother's death.

While she was never as musically talented as Rachel, she was driven and ambitious all the same. At thirteen, she won a national science award. At sixteen, she was accepted into Harvard and later studied at Johns Hopkins School of Medicine and earned her PHD in neuroscience.

Chris felt the same sense of release. He had loved Rachel with his whole heart, but she could never completely love him back, and he knew that. Two and a half years after her passing, he found love again and the two married and had a son together.

Upon dying, Rachel felt accomplished. She was sad, of course, that Emily and Chris had to suffer, but they would manage well.

Four Tony awards and several other smaller awards, a record deal, innumerable leading roles in Broadway productions, a loving husband, and a beautiful daughter had made life worthwhile.

"You know, you still look just as beautiful, even after all these years."