Thanks so much for the reviews so far. I know it's kind of weird to think about Lea/Rachel being with anyone else, but I'm pretty sure Cory/Finn would want her to make the most of her life and be happy even without him. After all, they're still endgame.

This chapter gets a lot more angsty, but I promise it'll all turn out okay.

In this AU, Finn and Rachel's story exactly mirrors that of Cory and Lea. A Monchele version is posted on my Tumblr account to respect Fanfiction's terms of service. Please don't hate on me too much for this — it's just my way of coping.

Chapter 2 — The Quantum Leap

Rachel smiled as she took her last breath. She'd waited almost 60 years for this moment — never scared of death because she firmly believed that when she died she would get to be with Finn again. Each day of life had brought her one day closer and now was the moment of truth. She took one last look at the amazing man who'd accepted and loved her despite always knowing that he was playing second fiddle to her lost love. She closed her eyes for the last time and heard her heartbeat slow and finally stop.

There was no tunnel of light, no floating above her loved ones, nothing that bore any resemblance to the out of body experiences some people described. She just fell into a dreamless sleep. Some time later, she started to become aware of her surroundings again. At first it was just a feeling of warmth, excitement (was it normal to be excited about dying?) and happiness, then she realised she was feeling exactly how she used to feel when she was wrapped up in his big arms with his giant body somehow fitting perfectly behind hers, his warm breath tickling the back of her neck. This was her safe place. Nothing could hurt her here. Every night they were together they fell asleep in each other's embrace and every morning they woke each other with strategically-placed kisses, the memory of which was so vivid she could almost feel it now. The feeling of desire she got as his hands roamed smoothly across her skin, while his lips left light marks on her neck, paying special attention to the dip just below her earlobe which he knew drove her crazy.

Gradually, she noticed more physical elements, like the persistent, rhythmic pushing of his fingers against her left breast. Which was weird because, although he had loved her boobs, he was more into tenderly caressing them, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger or taking them into his mouth and worrying the nub gently with his teeth than prodding them like this. It was actually quite painful and she began to get annoyed with him for his lack of sensitivity, but then a noise faded in. Like a quiet humming.

Rachel cautiously opened one eye, not sure quite what to expect. She'd just died, so she was kind of expecting fluffy white clouds and angels playing harps, maybe her loved ones surrounding her, Finn waiting to welcome her into heaven, or whatever this place was. She peered down at her chest to see what was prodding at her, hoping against hope that she'd see Finn's sweet face grinning up at her. She was wrong. Instead, she was greeted by her old cat, Sheila, purring as she repeatedly kneaded at Rachel's breast with her paws, as she often did when she wanted to wake her human. Although disappointed it wasn't Finn, Rachel was both relieved that he didn't think all that insensitive poking at her boobs would turn her on and also overjoyed to see Sheila again. She'd lived a long and happy life, eventually succumbing to old age and though Rachel had adopted many other cats over the years, she never found one quite like Sheila. As soon as the cat realised her mistress was awake, Sheila got off her chest and padded across the duvet to rub her face against Rachel's cheek.

"Hello baby girl! Oh, I missed you so much!" Rachel cooed, giving Sheila a good rub behind the ears. She sat up slightly in bed, while Sheila curled up against her chest and enjoyed a morning cuddle, purring loudly.

As she continued stroking the tortoiseshell feline, she noticed that her hands were different. No longer wrinkled with thin skin and age spots but youthful again. She briefly touched her hand to her face, confirming for herself that it, too, was now blissfully wrinkle-free.

Rachel's joy at being reunited with her favourite pet and twenty-something skin had distracted her from the giant elephant in the room — where the hell was she? Shielding her eyes from the morning sun, she looked around and instantly recognised the bedroom of her west Hollywood bungalow. The crisp, white duvet lay pretty much untouched on the left side of the king size bed, crushing any hopes she had of Finn being somewhere in the house. She remembered the day she bought it, the furniture store guy raising an eyebrow at the 5' 2" girl buying such a massive bed, but she had to account for her giant of a boyfriend and his penchant for a face-down starfish sleeping position on the nights when he fell asleep before she got home from work. He was a deep sleeper, she recalled, and it was almost impossible to move him once he'd settled in for the night, although she had figured out one or two ways to wake him, she remembered with a satisfied grin. At least with a king size she'd been able to find a corner of the bed to curl up in. When the roles were reversed, she'd invariably find herself "accidentally" woken up by him kissing her forehead, temple and neck. He'd eventually confessed that seeing her tiny little body curled up in the middle of the huge expanse of bright white sheets, looking all lost and vulnerable, brought out his protective instincts… and massively turned him on.

Next to the lamp on her bedside table was a framed picture that her Mom had taken in Hawaii of her and Finn, standing by the sea, arms wrapped around each other, just looking at each other adoringly. She still had that photo when she died in New York, although she had kept it off display to avoid her husband being unnecessarily jealous — after Finn she'd never really looked at anyone else that way. She loved her husband, certainly, but after losing your soulmate, the unbridled joy of being in love had been irrevocably tempered. Rachel smiled at the memory of that photo being taken. A split second later they had kissed. It wasn't the most passionate they ever shared — after all, her Mom was there — but she just remembered it being so full of love and happiness that she would happily have surrendered the rest of her life to just carry on kissing him for the rest of eternity. Of course at the time she thought they had their entire lives ahead of them, not just six and a half months. She began to tear up again, just wishing he was lying beside her right now. On the bright side, she was back in her old home, reunited with her long-since deceased cat who now seemed to be very much alive and well and licking her paws clean. Rachel smiled and kissed Sheila's furry head. When she opened her eyes again, her attention was drawn back to her bedside table and the object lying next to the photo. Her phone.

The technology seemed so outdated now, compared to what she was used to. The concept of actually having to type in a passcode to unlock it was almost alien. Plus she kind of feared what she would see when she did switch it on, but it would also hold the answers to a lot of questions she had running through her head. Steeling herself, she pushed the home button and looked at the screen. The wallpaper was a selfie she remembered them taking in bed on the evening after the Marie Claire photoshoot. Finn had surprised her by turning up on the shoot to support her and as she'd posed in numerous skimpy outfits, she'd teased him with subtle glances and poses meant just for him. The dark blue jacket worn with very little underneath had been his undoing and he'd caught her wrist as she sashayed past for another costume change. "If we didn't have company you know I'd be fucking you against that desk right now," he whispered in her ear. That night they rushed back to her place and quickly resolved the sexual tension that had been building all day in every position they could think of. When they woke the next morning, Finn had been propped up on one elbow, gazing at her. He told her this was his idea of perfection and had insisted on taking a photo. Their faces close together, smiling at the camera, their sex hair a hot mess. It was the epitome of two people in love.

Rachel dragged her attention back to the matter at hand.

Time: 07:26

Date:07/13/2013

A wave of nausea overcame her and she sat up quickly, sending a surprised Sheila jumping off her onto the empty half of the bed. What the fuck? What kind of sick joke was this?! Like living through that godforsaken day once wasn't enough, she's now expected to go through it all again? What did she do in her first life that was so terrible she should be forced to relive that hideous experience all over again? Was this going to happen every time she died?

Hang on a second. 07:26? The police had said he'd died at about 8:30, possibly 9. Maybe she still had time.

She checked the messages app and flicked through the last messages they'd exchanged.

"Back at the hotel now babe. Going to bed. Can't wait to see you tomorrow. I love you. xoxo"

"Goodnight baby, I love u, too. See u tomorrow. Big kisses. XXX"

She tapped the screen a few more times, going to her favourite number list and tapping the first one to call him. It went straight to voicemail.

"Shit!"

She tried again. Same thing.

"Fuck no. Come on Finn, don't do this to me again!" Adrenaline rushed through her system, her heart pounding and tears already flooding down her face, knowing she was probably the only person who knew what was going to happen in an hour's time if nobody did anything to stop him.

She quickly went into the Internet app and Googled the phone number for the hotel, tapping the link to dial. After a frustratingly long automated menu system, she finally got to the front desk. "Hi, could you please put me through to Finn Hudson's room?"

"I'm sorry miss, we don't have anyone of that name staying here."

"Yes you do. I'm Rachel Berry, Finn's my boyfriend and I'm really worried about him."

"You must be mistaken, madam."

"Why are you doing this? Why won't you let me... Shit… He's under a different name, isn't he?"

Rachel racked her brain trying to think which name he would have booked under. He'd never told her — why would he? They just called each other's cell phones, so they never needed to know each other's booking details or room numbers.

"Michael Hudson? Allan Hudson? Cory Hudson? Finn Monteith? Finn Canuck? Oh God, I don't know!"

"I'm very sorry miss, I can't put you through."

Rachel screamed with frustration as the receptionist hung up on her. What the fuck was she supposed to do now? The only thing she could think of was calling someone in Vancouver and getting them to actually go to the hotel. She'd call the damn police on him if she had to, but that was a last resort. The last thing he needed was to get arrested for possession.

She panicked trying to think of who did she knew in Vancouver that she trusted enough to get him out of this. Andrew. His acting coach. She knew Finn had been due to meet him for breakfast on the day he died. With her entire body shaking with fear, she managed to scroll through her contact list and dialled his number.

"Andrew? It's Rachel. I'm really sorry to call you this early. I'm really worried about Finn. I need you to get to him before..." Her breath caught in her throat and she had to choke it back before she continued. "Before something terrible happens."

"Rachel? Slow down. What's going on?"

"I think he's about to relapse again and I can't get hold of him. His cell phone's going to voicemail and the hotel won't put me through because I don't know which decoy name he was using. You've got to help me Andrew, please?"

"Of course I will. How do you know? Has he said something?"

Shit. She hadn't really thought about how she was going to explain this. She couldn't exactly tell him she was from a parallel universe where Finn Hudson died from a heroin and alcohol overdose in an hour's time.

"I know this sounds insane Andrew but I just kind of... know," she said, unable to hold back a loud sob.

"OK, Rachel, calm down. I'm sure he's fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Anything! Go to the hotel and try to get to him. If they won't let you in, ask them to go check on him. When you get to him, call me."

She heard frantic rustling at the other end of the phone as Andrew got out of bed, pulled on clothes and grabbed his car keys. His wife asked what was going on and Rachel overheard "It's Rachel, she's worried about Finn — I need to go."

"Okay Rachel, I'm on my way. I'll call you as soon as I have any news."

"Thank you Andrew, thank you so much."

The next half hour was horrific. As much as she wanted to get a flight straight there to be with him, being without phone reception for two and a half hours wasn't an option right now. Instead, she just sat on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest feeling utterly helpless as huge sobs wracked her body, waiting for news from Andrew while repeatedly calling Finn's cell phone, hoping he'd switched it on or that the repeated calls would override that Do Not Disturb feature. With no response, Rachel reflected that this was like some sort of twisted Schroedinger's Cat experiment. The police and coroner had only been able to roughly estimate his time of death. They might already be too late, but they wouldn't know until someone got into his room to talk to him. Until then all she could do was wait.