So, this is from waaaaaaaaaaay back in season 2 set right after the Christmas episode. I have this rule that I will not publish anything until it is finished (since I fall into the trap of never updating and that just disappoints people) and since I could never really figure out the ending, it sat in my folder for 2 years… But here it is now! All finished! Yay!
Tears blurred her vision as another hacking cough wracked her small frame. She whimpered plaintively and immediately regretted the action when a fiery pain licked up her throat, burning her insides the way her fever scorched her skin.
Blinking away the film covering her eyes Rachel groped blindly for her pink Blackberry, watching the screen come to life so she could once again stare at her contact list.
When Finn had left her standing in the Christmas tree lot that fateful December night, she hadn't put much thought into wallowing in the snow and crying her heart out before finally calling her dad's to pick her up an hour later. In fact, the juxtaposition of the cheerful atmosphere only a few feet away and the icy numbness of snow melting into her stockings had seemed fitting to her dramatic sensibilities. It wasn't until she woke up late the next morning, her cheeks severely chapped from the layer of icy tears that she had repeatedly wiped away and her eyes still red and puffy, that she thought perhaps sitting in the snow hadn't really been her brightest idea.
But being Rachel Berry she had shouldered on, plastering on a cheerful smile along with nearly half a bottle of moisturizing cream.
She drank extra herbal tea with honey before school, and stowed an extra large bag of cough drops in her book bag. The honey smoothed her throat so that her forced laughter didn't tear quite so horribly at her throat, and the disgusting cherry flavored drops made speaking when necessary possible, but they didn't entirely relieve the pain.
At Mr. Shue's Christmas get together, she made sure to say as little as possible to prevent the others from hearing the slight crackling behind her words. She feared their pitying eyes almost as much than their accusing stares. Almost. Her voice only failed her once, just as everyone was expressing their last minute Merry Christmases and hugging goodbye. She was wishing Tina and Mike a happy holiday when her voice faded into nothing, her lips moving along without it. No one noticed, and Rachel slipped out the door a few minutes before everyone else, driving home quickly to pour herself yet another large mug of tea to wash down a double dose of herbal supplements. She gracefully excused herself from a movie with her dad's and went to bed early.
Christmas morning Rachel woke shivering despite the extra blanket she had fetched during the night, and her throat felt scratchy and raw. She carried around an extra bottle of water to sip at and quickly shoved food in her mouth anytime her dads tried to engage her in conversation. They had no need to worry, especially since they were leaving tomorrow morning for their friend's annual New Year's party in Philly. It was just a little cold; and she would hate for something so trivial to take her overly concerned fathers away from an event they looked forward to all year. She picked at her Chinese food and fell asleep halfway through "Fiddler on the Roof". When she woke up on the couch the next morning she had a crick in her neck and a horrible headache to match the throbbing in her throat. She assured her dads in was just the rough night on the couch while ushering them out the door.
The sooner they left, the sooner she could crawl into her real bed with a bottle of painkillers and Nyquil.
Now, two days later, Rachel hadn't left her bed for anything other than a dire need to use the bathroom, and when she did it felt like her stomach couldn't decide if it was trying to become intimate friends with her toes, or her mouth.
All she wanted was someone to tell her she was going to be ok. And maybe make her a pot of vegan vegetable soup.
Prying her eyes open again (she didn't remember closing them) she squinted at her phone one more time before hitting the send button, consequences be damned, and shakily brought the phone to her ear.
The phone only rang twice before it went through to voicemail. Rachel groaned into her pillow as she listened to the monotonous electronic voice explaining how to leave a message (Seriously? Was there really anyone who didn't know how voicemail worked these days?). When she finally heard the beep and opened her mouth to speak, instead of words she released a rather embarrassing rattling squawk, which brought on yet another coughing fit. By the time she was finally able to clear her throat, she was crying again, and she hated how pathetic she felt, let alone how she sounded.
"Finn…" Her raspy voice was choked with tears. "I know you," another sharp cough left her struggling to pull air into her lungs, "hate me but-" she coughed so hard she gagged, her whimpers turning into sobs as she tried to talk around the wet rag that was lodged in her throat. "Please Finn. I ne-ne-need you…" She broke down entirely, continuing to clutch her phone close to her ear even after she heard the faint beep of the voicemail cutting her off. Sobbing into her pillow, Rachel peeked mournfully at her empty bottle of Nyquil before curling into a ball and attempted to become one with her mattress.
Finn Hudson was not happy. But that was about as far as he was willing to delve into his feelings whenever people asked him how he was doing.
He had felt his mother's worried gaze on his back for two long weeks, but neither had broached the topic of his bad mood or the distinct lack of Rachel Berry around the house. But all that changed as soon as Kurt had come home for winter break. Suddenly his mother's gaze was no longer curious, but pitying, and Finn high-tailed it out of the room as fast as possible if they were left alone together. He could tell she wanted to talk, wanted to make sure he was alright and offer a shoulder to cry on. But he couldn't think about it right now, couldn't think about her. It was still too fresh, too painful.
So he hid in his room. Playing video games and listening to loud, depressing music, and he always kept his shoes on and his coat at the ready, in case his mom came knocking. In just 2 days, he had spent $28 dollars of his Christmas money refilling his gas tank and buying slim-jims to eat while sitting in the parking lot at the 7-Eleven.
And now he was sitting, having just narrowly escaped another encounter with his mother, clenching and unclenching his fists on the steering wheel at the side of highway 75. Guilt churned heavily in his stomach as he tortured himself by replaying the image of his mother's hurt expressions as he rushed past her, mumbling something about meeting a friend, which they both knew was a lie.
He groaned out loud and let his head fall against the steering wheel, jerking slightly as the horn exclaimed in protest. This had always been Finn's favorite time of year, and now it physically pained him to look up at the gentle flurry of snowflakes dotting his windshield. If he stared at them for too long, he would recall the way they had caught in her dark eyelashes, melting to mix with her tears before he turned and walked away…
Shaking his head to clear away the images, he let out a heavy sigh and restarted his truck, cranking the heater to chase away the cold that had seeped in while he hadn't been paying attention. He was trying to decide if he was willing to waste even more money on the gas it would take to drive around town or if he should just face the music and head home, when his ringing cell phone pulled him from his thoughts.
He quickly shuffled through his pockets, assuming it would be his mother, or Kurt calling on her behalf. But when he flipped open his phone, thumb already halfway to accepting the call, his eyes locked on her name flashing across the screen, and his stomach clinched painfully. Before he even had time to process the decision, he had ignored her call and flung his phone across the cable of his truck. It bounced across the seat before landing on the floorboard with a dull thud. Finn stared after it while trying to calm his breathing.
He wasn't ready to talk to her. Hell, he couldn't even think her name. No way was he ready to hear her voice, laden with all that sadness he knew was reflected in his own.
If he was being completely honest, (which he wasn't, because he just couldn't deal with that right now) it wasn't his pain that was keeping him away from his mother, and from Kurt. It was hers. Because he knew if he thought about it, really thought about it, he would realize how much she must be hurting too. And he had never been able to see her in pain. Not the superficial pain that came along with one of her diva fits when she didn't get her way, but the deep, raw pain that would flash across her face whenever she would realize that he had been staring at a cheerleader instead of listening to what she had to say, or whenever the subject of her mother came up. It tore at his insides and made him feel sick to his stomach. Usually when it happened, he would use the 'distract and smother' method of dealing with Rachel Berry; compliment her a few times, buy her ice cream or one of those fluffy stuffed animals that he always felt were staring at them when they made out in her bedroom, and showered her with hugs and light pecks until she was either completely besotted or extremely irritated. Either way, she forgot all about being sad.
But that wouldn't work this time. Nothing would work this time. Because it was over, he had ended it. And if he thought about it, he would realize that maybe, even with everything that happened, with what she did, maybe breaking up was not what he wanted…
His phone buzzed and lit up a second time, casting an eerie glow in the darkness of his truck. With a sigh he yanked off his seatbelt and shifted to feel for his phone. He pondered for a moment before deciding that even if listening to her voice did feel like swallowing acid, she had been remarkably silent over the last few days, particularly for Rachel Berry... Not that he had been paying any special attention to her or anything. And besides, at least it wouldn't be as hard as really talking to her. And it might be important.
He snorted to himself as he hit the call button and brought the phone to his ear. Yeah, he was totally just making excuses. Like he was even capable of ever truly ignoring Rachel Berry.
"First unheard message…" At first, Finn thought that maybe Rachel had prank called him in a fit of insanity. Was that a dying bird? Or maybe in was a cat… And then all that coughing… Even through his confusion, the part of him that would always love Rachel (which he would grudgingly admit to himself was all of him) knew that something was very, very wrong.
"Finn…" Dear god! Was that her voice? Rachel's voice? The future star of Broadway? "I know you," there was more coughing and Finn felt all of the color drain out of his face while he moved to put his seatbelt on, shifting his truck into drive at the same time. "-hate me but," the awkward gagging sound coming from Rachel, his Rachel, made him physically ill, like he could take some of her pain into himself. God she sounded terrible. "Please Finn. I ne-ne-need you…" He was clutching his phone so tightly to his ear that it was painful. He cursed when the mechanical voice cut off her plaintive sobbing, and pulled the phone away only long enough to hit repeat.
"Please Finn. I ne-ne-need you…"
"I'm coming baby. I'm coming." He whispered back. Ignoring the icy streets he stepped on the gas just a little harder, praying to her god, any god, who would listen, to get him to her safely.