(Though she needs you more than she loves you.)
He'd never understood their relationship.
…
He didn't understand why their wedding had to be postponed, minute after minute, to wait for Quinn. They had never been really close, barely friends! He supposed it was one of those girl things, were they pick one friend to be the one to really help them through the wedding, calling her in the middle of the night for flower arrangements like Rachel knew she couldn't really count on him for that.
Still, it felt weird having your bride turn around to text someone else, it felt strange feeling that Quinn was more important, more essential in their wedding that him.
…
Maybe it was a Quinn thing. She always had a way to make him feel inadequate, whether she intended it or not. Those glares of hers could reduce him to shreds, but that cold smile as she leered at him could pulverize him, make him feel lower that the dirt on her shoes.
Quinn was one of those beauties that could kill.
…
That's why Rachel was his soulmate, instead.
…
He'd loved Quinn, at least the first time they were together.
But she was scary.
Rachel was always sweet, always willing. She was easy to be with, she baked him and helped him with homework and at the shop and that, overall, was what he loved the most about her. She could be overbearing sometimes, or annoying when she wanted to get her way, but he loved her nonetheless.
Rachel was meant to be a star, but she needed him. She's said so. She said she was scared, that she'd feel lonely, and that no one out there would be interested in her. Parts would come harder for her, even if she had the talent. New York City was big and she needed him by her side, to remind her of home, to be there for her.
Because he loved her.
And she loved him.
…
But how did he still feel like an outsider at his own wedding?
…
They'd all been shocked by the accident. They were reduced to tears and sobs for days. He felt confused, and overwhelmed, and like he was living someone else's life. All the while, he held Rachel's hand.
…
Rachel hadn't cried.
He didn't understand, because when was she not melodramatic and over the top? He expected her to cry on the floor, to sob and have her make up running like the rest of the girls.
She didn't.
…
Rachel had remained stoic, all the way. When someone dared to question Quinn's stability, her chances at survival, he'd hear her scoff with derision.
"Don't be ridiculous." She'd spat. "Quinn is going to be okay."
…
He didn't know how she knew, but he wished he could be as confident. Rachel was always right, and it was so easy to believe her.
He'd slumped on the chair with relief, accommodating his fingers laced through hers and bringing her hand up to kiss it. She had smiled at him from the corner of her eye and he'd felt like a gentleman.
…
Rachel was right, it turned out.
Quinn was okay.
…
The day she was released from the hospital, Finn called Rachel. He wanted to visit Quinn at her house, perhaps bring her flowers.
Rachel never picked up the phone, not in the whole day.
…
He went with Kurt the next morning.
Judy Fabray smiled at them when she opened the door. She looked tired, there were dark bruises under her eyes from lack of sleep, but her smile was the most genuine he'd ever seen.
When they entered Quinn's room, the first thing they saw was a wheelchair next to her bed. The covers were up so her blonde hair peeked out, but someone else was there with her.
He took steps closer out of instinct, because he recognized that bed head. Rachel was holding onto Quinn, her face was hidden in blonde hair, but he could tell it was her.
She was his fiancée, after all.
…
Rachel seemed to play a crucial part in Quinn's recovery. She had always been a great friend, and Finn decided to join her. He cared about Quinn, even if she often times made him feel like dirt, without even realizing it.
Rachel had never said no, took his hand and walked with him to Quinn's home.
Quinn had always been unnaturally polite to him when he went over to her house.
So why did he feel like an intruder, anyway?
…
It was mostly because he stood awkwardly in the room while Rachel moved about, looking like a well trained nurse on speed.
He'd watched the way Quinn eyed everyone warily when they tried to help her, because they weren't really sure what to do.
He'd watched the way Quinn relaxed against her pillows and closed her eyes when Rachel arranged everything around her, while he stood there awkwardly.
…
Quinn smiled softly at Rachel as they spoke. He'd never seen that look in her eyes. They'd often sit to watch a movie when they visited. Rachel sat next to Quinn on the bed and Finn on a chair next to Rachel.
Even though she was holding his hand in hers, he felt oddly envious of the millimeters that separated Quinn and Rachel's arms.
He knew that feeling.
They were warm and radiated heat. They felt soft, even from a distance.
Rachel was holding his hand, but it still felt like less than the space between their arms.
…
Rachel pushed Quinn's chair everywhere at school. He guessed he missed the time when they became such close friends.
…
Rachel still spent time with him, and they did the same things. She baked the same cookies and kissed him softly, just like always. She let him drape an arm around her shoulders while they watched movies.
…
It felt different for Finn.
Everything was exactly the same, but it felt like a veil had been lifted.
…
He still felt on top of the world when he looked into Rachel's eyes, they shined the same and her smile was just as warm.
There was something else.
It'd always been there, he realized, but it felt like one of those things he couldn't put into words. A feeling he still hadn't experienced and didn't know how to recognize.
It was frustrating.
…
Quinn had entered the Choir room in her wheelchair. Rachel was on her lap, sitting on her good leg with an arm around Quinn's shoulders and laugher just pouring out from her.
There were wrinkles in the corner of her eyes he'd never seen before.
Quinn stopped right in front of him and smiled, and Rachel moved to the chair next to him and took his hand.
It was sweaty and warm. It had never felt like that before.
…
Rachel asked to slow down rehearsals when Quinn was able to walk. Mr. Schuester had agreed, though they were all still eager to perfect their number for Nationals and Quinn was struggling to keep up, kept saying she could do it and to practice one more time. It was always Rachel who refused.
…
Rachel didn't open her eyes when they had sex. He loved her sounds and the way she clutched to him tight, but she never opened her eyes.
…
That feeling in his gut was hard to decipher, he couldn't put a name to what he'd never felt before.
Rachel still said she needed him, still said she loved him. Being with her was easy and comforting.
…
He one day remembered what Quinn said many years ago about not cheating on her with Rachel. She said to do it with anyone but her, or at least that's how it sounded.
At the moment, he'd found it strange, and confusing.
It felt now like being just a little bit closer to putting a name to that feeling.
…
The relationship between the three of them had always been complicated. He'd always been in the middle, bouncing between Quinn and Rachel until he could make up his mind. Only then did they seem to be able to be friends, the two girls.
He felt guilty sometimes about that.
Some of their deeper problems were because Quinn and Rachel had been fighting, because he'd break one for the other, and so on, and so on.
…
He watched the way that, yet again, the separation between their arms was that of the millimeters where you could still feel, but you were not quite touching.
…
He had an epiphany, right then. Or at least that's why the thought they were called.
He had always been between them, the reason they fought.
Maybe it was never about him at all.
…
Rachel had asked him what it felt like to kiss Quinn one day.
She'd been devastated and he thought she wanted him back.
Quinn had asked him if he was leaving her for Rachel, time and time again when they were back together.
She asked like she knew what it felt like.
She'd sounded devastated, and he thought she wanted to keep him.
…
Being with Rachel was easy, he knew that. They fit together and there were no problems. When they were, they apologized and everything was fine. She baked and sang and helped him in the shop.
She said she loved him.
She said she needed him.
…
She was afraid.
…
Finn's life had always been easy enough; he never had to make hard choices. They were scary, sure, but if they were the right thing to do… not so much.
…
He had a feeling Rachel didn't know what she was doing.
She was seventeen, scared, trying to hold on to her old life, to her high school sweetheart while she also tried to gain her place in the world. She needed him. He was familiar. He was safe. He was easy.
They were seventeen, and about to get married.
…
Get married at seventeen.
He should have known she was scared sooner.
…
He watched the way Quinn looked at Rachel when she performed her solo for Nationals. He watched her calm demeanor and the shine in her eyes. The little pull at the corner of her mouth. The way her eyes wrinkled at the corners as she beamed when Rachel poured her soul into the high note.
…
The feeling in Rachel's eyes was settling.
He could put a name to it now.
…
They were high out of their win at Nationals when he broke up with her. She'd been smiling at him a moment before, no wrinkles.
She'd gasped. She'd looked down.
Then around…
…Searching.
He knew the hard choice was his to make for the first time.
…
When they met back up, the entire Glee Club for Christmas the next year, Rachel had beamed at him and hugged him tightly. Quinn had kissed his cheek.
…
He watched the contrasting colors of their skins as their arms pressed against each other on the booth.
…
He guessed he finally understood.