Oneshot.
Forever and Always.
It's a stormy day, strange for this late in the springy season. The usually bright blue skies were engulfed by thick grey clouds; they travel slow but in a speed that assures that in less of what they think, it will eat up all the blue in the sky in a flash. It will turn their usually puffy clouds like cotton into an almost black as the grey shoots off rays of thunder at them from above. Water soon falling on them as the storm rages and washes away the thought that the sun will touch their skins gently; not until a new commences, at least.
She supposes that's what should have tipped her off, the weather. She wasn't usually superstitious nor did she believe in signals from the Gods or anything, she was a little smarter than that. Well, at least she'd like to believe that fate had a way with things and no forewarning ever came. Life wasn't like that, was it? Life never made you stop in front of a flashing neon billboard sign and told you that you were going to have a completely horrific day so brace yourself.
But maybe—just maybe—she thinks she should have prepared herself for what was going to come next when it started raining like the coldest winter day when the forecast clearly promised a sunny afternoon. But that's how quickly things change, don't they? Just like the weather, nothing's ever certain.
She's sitting at the table, the hours get later
He was supposed to be here
She's sure he would have called
She's looking at her bedazzled pink phone, just staring at the blank-screen, hoping that it will flash and vibrate and signal an incoming call. But it doesn't. It's just there, just blank like it had been for the past two hours as she waits and waits.
He promised he would come and keep her company for her overtime dance practice that afternoon—he promised. But she found herself in that dance room, scowling to herself for the first couple of minutes as she stretched in front of the giant mirrors; all by herself. Nothing but that beat-up boom box on top of a stool in the corner of the air-conditioned room.
And after two hours of waiting, after her anger had resided a tiny bit as she practiced a dance routine she was sure would dazzle anyone in a Broadway audition, is how she found herself sitting on the shiny wooden floor looking at her cellphone. It wasn't like she hadn't called, because it was obvious she wasn't the waiting around, patient type of girl, but nothing. Nothing on the other end but an annoying ringing.
And through that absolute nothing is how she got a sinking feeling in her chest. How her nerves were on edge, how she felt something like a cold whisper of wind grace her skin and sent shivers throughout her entire body.
She waits a little longer, there's no one in the driveway
No one's said they've seen him
'Why, is something wrong?'
With her dance bag hanging from her defined shoulder, she's walking down the silent hall of William McKinley High School with her cellphone clutched to her chest as she heads for the exit.
She could feel the storm, is that strange? She thinks it's strange. She's never been able to feel much of anything, like she says, she isn't much of a premonition type of person, but for some reason that day she could go back with her theory that she had a sixth sense. Because as she walked, as she headed out, she could feel the heaviness of the atmosphere. She could feel the humidity, she could feel the little shrill of panic most people get when the thunder starts roaring and the sky starts painting dashes of an electric purple across itself.
And as she walked past the thick doors that led to the outside of the school building, those feelings hit her double as the rain drips on her like a slushie-shower she had gotten last week. It was the same feeling when that sugary-frozen liquid hit you, the same sensation that you had just been ducked into a tub full of ice for a few seconds.
The parking-lot's almost completely deserted, except for a few of those Neanderthal football players that were tossing a ball at each other as they hung around a beat-up truck that's blasting music; a large thermal being passed around a few who weren't playing fetch with the football flying across the parking-lot.
And as she squints through the rain to get a clear view from between her lashes, she hears, "well, well, well," and she recognizes that voice as soon as she recognizes that truck. "Out to play in the rain, are you, Berry?"
She turns, frowning a little as she doesn't bother to answer his mocking question. "Noah, have you seen Finn?"
Usually loving any excuse to cause a little stress in her life—mostly by flirting to the point that it turns her to an incoherent mess, which he happens to pride himself in—Puck sees something glowing in her big brown eyes that he chooses to let his teasing go for the moment being. "No, not since Glee practice."
Another bolt of lightening shoots off in the sky, the radio blasting from Puck's truck adds an almost haunting echo to the dark day as her heart sinks in her chest a little more. "Oh," she whispers softly, turning away again from him as she squints at the parking-lot; hoping his car will pull up through the heavy raindrops.
"Here," yanking the thermal from one of his teammates, Puck extends it to her, "it'll warm you right up."
"I doubt coffee's in there," she tells him in a fleeting tone as she doesn't bother to even acknowledge the flask.
Puck rolls his eyes, takes a swing of it hurriedly and then tosses it right back to one of the guys. "What's the matter, Rachel?" He asks in not a very interested manner, though he is a little curious by that glow of fear in her eyes. "Did Hudson forget your birthday, or something?"
She looks back to the window
Suddenly the phone rings
A voice says something's happened
That she should come right now
She doesn't answer him.
The grey sky up above throws another bolt of lightening through its clouds; taking over the silence that she had given to her friend.
"Rachel?"
But just as Puck speaks, now very annoyed, that same bedazzled phone that she had hoped would come to life ages ago, starts vibrating on her chest as she finds that she's still clutching it like her life depended on it.
"Are you gonna get that?" Puck asks, raising an eyebrow at her.
She nods once, pulling away her cellphone from its confinement against her chest and she sees that Blaine's name is flashing on her screen. And even though it isn't the person she was hoping for, she still cant help but to feel that odd inkling of premonition crawl up her spine as the storm blows a gust of wind at her. "…H-hello?"
And as she squeaks out the word, her ears and mind expecting to hear Blaine's smooth and contagiously-happy voice to take over her, she instead hears, "—Rachel! Oh, my God, Rachel!" from someone else.
"Kurt?" She mumbled, her heart thumping along with the ripples of thunder.
"Oh, God, Rachel, you have to come now!" And by the tone of his voice, by the almost hysteria that's drenching out from the earpiece of her cellphone, she knows that it's not of excitement; that Kurt's shouts are something much more wrenching than anything else he could have said to her.
Her mind goes to December
She doesn't know how suddenly the football players lingering around suddenly are scramming as fast as possible from the parking-lot, their football and thermal filled with liquor long forgotten as Puck straps her into the passenger seat of his truck and they're racing away through the storm.
She's looking out the window, her mind drifting off as Puck curses and curses at the cars that wont let him cut-in in his hurry.
She thinks of when he asked her, he bent down on his knees first
And he said: 'I want you forever, forever and always
Through the good and the bad and the ugly
We'll grow old togetherForever and always'
She's in Puck's truck, she's aware of that as they hit speed-bumps, as the truck bounces, squirms, turns sharply, and honks loudly—but her mind's not registering that as she looks at the rain drenching the window of the passenger seat.
She sees him there, that boy she loves with all her heart, a few months back. He is kneeling in the middle of the empty auditorium as she walks on stage; the entire set turned into an almost winter wonderland as the band's playing the most beautiful piece of music together that belongs in the background of a cheesy, romantic movie.
'What's this?' she remembers asking him, her brown eyes in awe as little flecks of foam that are meant to be an imitation of snow are falling from the ceiling of the auditorium. 'You're aware that I'm Jewish, right?' She says as she spots a Christmas tree.
He laughs, nodding nonchalantly at her comment because he deserves a little more credit because he really does remember that on his own accord. 'Yeah, that's kind of why I did this,' he tells her as she approaches him in the middle of the stage, coming to a stop at his kneeling form. 'I've been thinking—really, really hard until my head started hurting about what I could get you,' he begins. 'This is our senior year, and I wanted it to be something special, Rach. Something that will really show you how much I love you.'
She remembers smiling at him, a very gentle smile. 'I know you love me, you don't need to prove that to me.'
'But I do.'
She's holding her smile, she remembers that too. 'Then just don't leave me again, Finn.'
'I won't,' he says as he smiles too. He reaches into his pocket with his left hand as his right hand grabs one of hers, never breaking eye contact. 'I've done a lot of stupid stuff to you, Rachel,' he's now holding a velvet box towards her, 'throughout our entire relationship I've done things to hurt you, I know that. I know that we always haven't been this…this good. But even through that, through all that stuff that's separated us, I realize time and time again that I only love you.'
'Finn—' her eyes are wide, her heart thumping as the music becomes quieter.
'I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Rach,' he tells her, letting go of her hand as he opens the box, 'because you're the only person that I want to be with forever. Because I love you, and I want you to be there with me through everything.'
The violins and piano only play now, so sweet and elegantly; the fake snow falling around the stage.
He stretches the box to her, smiling with giant twinkling eyes, 'marry me, Rachel?'
She remembers a puff of air passing through her throat roughly, her eyes tearing up immediately. 'Finn,' she says through the overwhelming sensation gripping her, 'we're too young, I've got New York to think about.' Her heart's still thumping loudly. 'And, there's no ring in that box.'
A goofy smile tugs at the edge of his lips, shrugging a little. 'Yeah, I'm still saving up for the ring,' his cheeks turn an embarrassed pink, 'but I'll have it soon.'
The rest of the memory washes away as the truck comes to an immediate stop and she almost goes flying out of the window; her body bouncing around the seat.
And as Puck's quick to try and free her from the seat-belt he had wrapped her in, she doesn't need to remember that by the look of his giant eyes waiting for her that it only took three more seconds and she had said yes in the next heartbeat.
She pulls up to the entrance
She walks right to the front desk
They lead her down a million halls, a maze that's never ending
They talk about what happened but she can barely hear them
He's pulling her, Puck. He's practically dragging her through the main, cold hall of Lima's hospital with great urgency as she can't really function. She knows that she would have ran towards the receptionist if her full functions were on and demanded attention like the bossy know-it-all she was, but that was the problem right there. Nothing that she was feeling, nothing that was pushing down on her shoulders were her usual sensations. Nothing was her, nothing felt right.
"Hey, lady—" Puck's yelling now, but she could barely hear it as she blinks and notices all the sad looking people in the waiting room; some huddled together as some of them cry and look in despair. There's no hope around the walls, there's no hope among them, no hope in the air or in their faces. They're all waiting, looking ready until someone comes out and squashes their thin fragment of faith.
Puck roared for a few more seconds, sounding very demanding and rude, but all she registers is that she's being pulled by him again. The pictures of those sad people in the cold waiting room fading away from her mind as endless cold halls take over her. Many white tiles and white walls passing through her, practically flying past her as she blinks, blinks, blinks in a lost blur.
"—and they called as soon as the collision happened," she heard something, something that didn't come from Puck. Which, in her moment of blankness, meant that someone else was with them as the white walls kept passing by her. "The paramedics informed us that it seemed like his tires slipped from the rain. He must have not been looking both ways before he turned and got hit."
White walls, white walls, white walls.
"He was strapped into the seat, practically buried in the heap of metal his car was left in," Puck's still not speaking, she knows that much as more white passes her, "it was difficult to get him out without deepening his wounds."
White walls, white walls, white walls, and cold air.
She tries to keep a straight face as she walks into the room
She's pretty sure she's going to throw up as all that endless white, all those turns, and all those blurs start making her dizzy and are messing with her perfectly stable head. But just as she could feel that nasty feeling rise up from inside her chest and up her throat, she's shaken roughly by the shoulders that she forgets she was nauseous in the first place.
"Rachel—" Puck snaps at her, distracting her from adding some distasteful color to the white tiles on the floor.
She blinks at him, dazed almost.
He tightens his grip on her boney shoulders, "Rachel, listen to me, alright." He starts off, and through her daze, she realizes she's never quite heard Noah talk in such a gentle, concerned voice before. "Don't go all diva and dramatic when you go in there, alright? The people taking care of him don't need to give you all the attention if you start sobbing like a crazy lady and faint."
She blinks again.
Puck feels something tug his heartstrings, but he won't admit it as he exhales it out. "Man up, okay. Let's go in."
She blinks, nods, and takes a deep breath as he gives her his back and opens the door.
She sits by his bedside, holds his hand too tight
They talk about the kids they're gonna have and the good life
The house on the hillside, where they would stay
There's more white—white walls, white tiles on the floor, white sheets, white curtains, white chairs, and almost-white metallic machines beeping. She wonders a little to herself how with mental institutions they put their patients into white rooms, waiting until they become sane again, but she finds that that much white is beginning to drive her insane. How does one find sanity by the lack of color?
But as she hears the beeping of those machines, as she sees some color as Puck joins a little group in the corner composed by Kurt, Blaine, Mister Hummel, Mister Schue, and Quinn, she pushes all that inclining to insanity away as her eyes land on that boy she loves with all her heart.
She takes a few slow steps, so uncharacteristic of her usual take-charge ways; but she eventually gets there. To him. Carole is there, next to his bedside, naturally. She's holding on to his massive hand with one of hers, the other running across his cut and sliced forehead. She's shedding tears, normal for a mother when she sees her son in that state, and she feels like maybe she shouldn't invade that moment where Mrs. Hummel's trying to nurse her son back to recovery.
"Rachel, dear," and almost like she knew that she was going to join the huddled group in the corner, Mrs. Hummel looks up with a teary smile. "I'm glad you're here, Rachel. He needs you."
She almost takes a step back as she shakes her head at her, but that beep, beep, beep rings in her ears and pulls her in.
And just as she's by his bedside, right next to one of those many machines, she realizes that his eyes are open; that he's awake.
"…R-Rach," he puffs out in a rough, sickly voice, "I'm…sorry."
She looks away from his eyes, away from his bruised and cut up face to take his left hand; taking into her small one and clutching it. And as she lets the warmness of his skin impact her for a few seconds, she finds that she's grasping his hand like she had been clutching on to her cellphone when she waited for him to call. She's squeezing his hand, her heart thumping along with those annoyingly devastating beeps as she breathes in for a few seconds.
"Rachel—"
"So, I was thinking," she's finally speaking, interrupting him; ignoring the questioning in his voice, "and after a few years on Broadway, and sometime in Hollywood of course, that we should come and live here."
He's staring at her, no more questioning, but he's grinning lopsidedly.
She clears her throat and continues, ignoring his mother's raised eyebrow. "Now, Lima's not exactly my cup of tea, but I figure it's a good place to raise our kids, right? I mean, of course we're going to enroll them in a great art institution that Kurt, Blaine, and I should open after our bright careers take off, but I want them to be where we grew up."
He laughs softly, weakly, but nods and doesn't interrupt her.
Stay there forever, forever and always
Through the good and the bad and the ugly
'We'll grow old together, and always remember
Whether rich or for poor or for better
We'll still love each other, forever and always'
She's still talking, not bothering to pause one bit as she knows that this is one of those rare moments that he's actually listening to her; that he is letting everything sink in and tries to memorize it.
She holding his hand, still holding on tight like it's a lifeline and she's in the middle of a turbulent river, and she's explaining to him why their first daughter should be named after Barbara Streisand and that Kurt and Mercedes should be the godparents—no offense to Blaine—when she does not even register when Mister Schue opens the door of the hospital room and the others walk in.
"How's he doing?" Tina asks in a low voice, glancing up to the hospital bed, watching the girl chat away like it was only her and her boyfriend in the room.
Puck, who has an arm draped around Quinn's shoulders, shrugs at the girl and the others as they look expectant too. "I don't know anything. I was with Berry when Kurt called."
They all turned to Kurt, but the boy's caught in the middle of his dad and his step-mom a few inches away.
"Car crash," Blaine answers, who's hanging with the others as he lets his boyfriend have his family-time without interfering. "Because of the rain, it seems. Kurt, Quinn, and I were at the Lima Bean when Mister Hummel called. Nothing much to it, other than the tires slipped and the other car collided into his hood."
"How bad was it?" Santana asks in the same low tone that Tina had, all of them with statuesque expressions on as they also hear those nerve wrecking beeps.
"Bad," Mister Schue answers instead, turning away from his students to look towards the hospital bed.
"—Though, of course if I ever get to really meet Barbara, then Mercedes can't be godmother."
And no one says anything else as that girl keeps talking, not really noticing when the boy's eyes are drooping little by little; his smile still on, however.
Then she gets an idea and calls in the nurses
Brings up the chaplain and he says a couple verses
Silence had taken over the now crowded hospital room for a few seconds, all of them now listening to the boy's heavy breathing, to the sounds of the machines, and the footsteps outside of the room for almost an hour.
She really can't remember when she stopped talking—maybe it was when he yawned, when he flinched because it caused stress in his broken ribs, but she knew he needed to rest. And trying to keep up with every word that spilt out of her mouth was almost like a marathon, so she decided she would let it slide and give him a chance to doze off.
But as she's looking at him, looking at how hard he is fighting not to fall asleep so he can keep looking at her big brown eyes, her mind shoots off a light-bulb and she has the best idea since she decided to get rid of the old glee-club teacher two years ago.
"Carole," she calls softly, turning away from the boy on the bed to look at the opposite end of the room, "can I talk to you for a second?"
Mrs. Hummel blinks for a few seconds. "Erm, sure, dear. What about?"
"Not here, outside," she tells her. She picks up her boyfriend's massive hand towards her face, and she gently places her lips to his knuckles and smiles at him. "…I'll be back," she whispers, and then lets go as she steps away from him.
"Hey there, man—"
"No, Noah, you come with us too." She interrupts Puck before he could move to her space by the hospital bed. "Quinn, Kurt, and Mercedes, you too."
No one questions her as they all look at one another, then turn to glance at her walk off determinedly out the room with the others.
She borrows some rings from the couple next door
Everybody's laughing as the tears fall on the floor
She looks into his eyes
No one really knows how things got to this point, how there's some priest standing on the right side of the hospital bed, a bible opened in his hands as he is staring at the young couple before him. "We are gathered together on this…erm…beautiful evening, to share with Rachel and Finn as they exchange vows of their everlasting love."
Standing on her side, laughing and rolling their eyes, are all the girls from the glee club; all holding flowers that they either took from vases around the hospital or ripped from the bushes of the gardens outside.
Next to the priest, are the boys; all with flowers safety-pinned to their shirts as they all are completely still and patient during whatever it is that's going on. Kurt's the only one smiling a teary smile, the Best Man faithfully happy for his stepbrother.
She's looking at him, at the love of her life grin and laugh despite the pain that it causes him to do so, despite the coughs that erupt because of it as Burt and Carole approach them; taking off their marriage rings and handing them to them for the moment.
"…At this time, I'll ask you, Finn, and you, Rachel, to face each other and take each other's hands."
He looks up, ruffling his hospital pillow and his giant eyes wash into her brown ones. She smiles at her, her heart thumping so loudly it takes her a few seconds to focus again and listen to what the priest is saying before she melts to the ground.
And she says:
'I want you forever, forever and always
Through the good and the bad and the ugly
We'll grow old together, and always remember
Whether happy or sad or whatever
We'll still love each other, forever and always.'
The priest's looking at her; old, wrinkly face, white eyebrows knitted together as he clears his throat. "Miss Berry?"
She blinks, a little distracted as she swears she sees a glistening in her boyfriend's eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Please continue."
The bridesmaids, the best man, the groomsmen, and the parents chortle in the background; Santana comments something underneath her breath that she's glad the priest doesn't overhear.
"Rachel," the old man starts to repeat, "will you take Finn to be your husband, your partner in life and your one true love? Will you cherish his friendship and love him today, tomorrow and forever? Will you trust and honor him, laugh with him and cry with him? Will you be faithful through good times and bad, in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?
And even though there isn't much to think about—because the clear answer is a 'yes', a forever and ever yes—she pauses for a few moments to think to herself. She's looking at him, gazing into his eyes like she does when he's singing to her; when his voice tickles her ears and invades her skin with the beautiful sound he can create. And as she stares at him, feeling everything beautiful and pure than someone can possibly feel for another person, she feels her heart explode into a round of fireworks and her soul come to life.
She loves him, loves him so damn much her tiny body can't contain it. Most people don't believe in love at first sight, and neither did she for a while, but every time she looks him in the eye she knows that she—that all those people who bash it have been wrong all along. Because the first time she looked at him, their eyes connecting, she knew that he was the one for her. She knew then and there that she would never want another; never. And their love was meant to be for the rest of their days, for the rest of life and the world.
"I do," she breathes, gazing deep into him as he stiffly, weakly, and slowly slides his mother's ring onto her skinny finger. "Always."
She finishes the vows but the beeps are getting too slow
His voice is almost too low
Beep. Beep.
"—Will you be faithful through good times and bad, in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?"
Beep. Beep.
Everyone's looking at him now, at that usually energetic and athletic boy that's now laying still and feebly on the hospital bed. He flinches a little, his face a little red as he stops a cough from coming out as the priest's now looking at him impatiently. All of them waiting for him to speak, to answer, to get this ceremony over with.
Beep. Beep.
Some of their friends and fellow glee clubbers glance at one another, eyebrows raised as the pause continues.
Beep. Beep.
He coughs, grimaces some more.
Beep. Beep.
"Mister Hudson?" The priest calls, his wrinkly face now looking a little wary.
Beep. Beep.
"I do," he finally says, almost through his teeth as he takes in a giant heave of air through his nostrils. "I do, I do."
But instead of slipping in Mister Hummel's ring into his finger, that girl with those big brown eyes loosens the hold on his hand a little; her heart slowing down as she seems to be the only one to notice the pain and discomfort coloring his face. Like she's the only one that can feel the storm happening outside approaching them, the grey coming for them—for him.
As he says:
' I love you forever, forever and always
Please just remember even if I'm not there
I'll always love you, forever and always.'
He's coughing, it takes almost a lot of force not to say anything as she's pushed to try and roll the ring down his finger.
She's staring at him, brown eyes full with tears—but not the ones filled with happiness and bliss like any other girl who's getting married to the person she loves the most.
"Rachel," he manages to say through his coughing, through his flinching, through the pain he is obviously in as everyone still continues to see nothing, "I love you." He squeezes her hand, interrupting the priest before he could go on with the usual speech. "I…I love you more than anything in the world," he's coughing again, "more than football, glee, or grilled cheese sandwiches."
The people in the background laugh, she doesn't.
"I never thought…" he's flinching now, a free hand flying to his chest automatically, "I never thought I'd ever get to feel this way for anyone. I never…I never imagined that falling in love was this awesome," he coughs once more, "and that's 'cause I think I never thought I'd ever find someone like you."
Someone awes behind her, maybe it's Santana or Quinn—she was sure it sounded a little sarcastic, but she says nothing. She's just looking at him, feeling the storm outside as the thunder is clearly heard inside the hospital room.
"Remember what I told you last year?" He asks her, clearing his throat. "When…when," he takes a breath in, "I told you that…just because we're not together…it doesn't," he grits his teeth for a few seconds, "that it doesn't mean I'll ever stop caring for you?"
She's crying now, giant tears falling impossibly down her cheeks as she can see the struggle he is putting up, as she could feel something invade the room as he starts turning pale; an almost blue.
"Remember?" He repeats.
She nods, nods through her tears as her knees start shaking.
"I mean it," he murmurs, his breathing becoming rough, "I will love you forever, Rachel. Forever….forever and always."
There's a pause, he's inhaling as much air as he can through his nose; as much air as the pain he must be feeling allows him to. People start noticing, flowers fall to the ground.
Beep. Beep.
The priest closes his bible, eyes wide and he starts mumbling prayers as the boys by his side, and Mister Schue are pushing him away; trying to make their way to the bed as hectic sounds start coming out of the patient's mouth.
Beep. Beep.
He's inhaling in, his chest not rising up as it should from all that air he is supposedly taking in. It sounds like he is choking, he's turning bluer by the second; his hand's still clutching on to that girl he loves. He keeps looking at her, ignoring the cries and shouts Burt and his mother are giving, at the tears falling frown anyone else's eyes as he can only see her as he can feel himself slither away from the world of the living.
Beep. Beep.
"Finn," Rachel squeaks, her heart crashing in her chest and breaking into a million pieces as she tightens her fingers on his limp hand. "Finn?"
Beep. Beep. Beep—it stopped.
And then there was nothing more. Only sounds of heartbreak, of grief, shouts of damnation of anger, of disbelief. She's sure the world fell apart, but his eyes—his frozen, unblinking eyes are looking at her with that love he took with him to eternity until the day, years and years from now, that she catches up to him.
There was a forever and always, even in the afterlife.
AN: Tada!
This is my first ever Glee story! I am so proud of myself, ah. Yep, yep. But, of course, the story's a little tragic, but we can overlook that, right?
Anyway, song's from Parachute called, "Forever & Always." It's incredibly touching. And if you've never heard it, I guarantee you WILL cry.
Thanks for reading. (:
