A/N: Thank you for the feedback. I wasn't sure the sort of response that I'd get for that, and you all just blew me away. Thank you for your support on this story, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

Day By Day

"What do you think about folk songs? I think the kids would like it. Something different, you know?"

"I can't say I have a strong opinion either way," Rachel said, threading her fingers through his and lifting their interlocked hands. Finn laugh, his chest rumbling beneath her cheek.

"You don't have a strong opinion on something music related?"

"Shut up," she teased, squeezing his hand. "Hey, when are tryouts for the solos again? Christa was all nervous during her lesson yesterday about them."

"Friday."

"That soon?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"The concert's only a month away," he said.

"I can't believe it," she murmured, turning against him and draping an arm over his waist. "Time's going by so fast."

"You can say that again. I'm the one who has to make them sound half-way decent in one month."

She laughed and pressed a kiss to his chest. "Don't you sound happy."

"It's terrifying. Now I know how Mr. Schue felt before all of our competitions."

The alarm started beeping and Rachel tucked her arm tighter around his waist.

"Not yet," she murmured. "I'm not ready."

"Just five more minutes," she pleaded. She was just so tired, and his body was warm and comforting. She didn't want to leave.

"Rach." She opened her eyes blearily, glancing around a room that wasn't her. The spot beside her in bed was empty. "Rach."

She sat up a bit and saw Kurt at the doorway in flannel pants and a grey tshirt.

"Your alarm has been going off for a while."

"Sorry," she mumbled sleepily, leaning over and shutting it off.

"How did you sleep through that? I think people in Chinatown heard it."

She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that. I'm a really heavy sleeper. Finn always..." she trailed off when she realized she was talking like he was alive again.

"Anyway," she said after a moment. "I'm sorry."

"Totally fine," Kurt said. "Come into the kitchen and eat with us. Blaine made blueberry pancakes. We saved you some."

He walked back out into the kitchen to let Rachel get ready and she pulled herself reluctantly from the bed. Rachel pulled on her robe and then went out into the kitchen. Blaine had put out a plate of pancakes just for her and Kurt was busy working on her cup of coffee.

"Sorry, we drank all of it before you were up," Kurt said, back to her. "We're just a bunch of caffeine addicts here."

"It's fine. You know, I could have made my own coffee."

"He likes fussing over someone," Blaine told her with a grin.

"You're making me sound weird," Kurt complained.

"Not at all," Rachel said, stepping over toward him and kissing his cheek. "You're a good host." She sat down in front of her pile of pancakes and added, "Besides, I already know how strange you are."

"That is very true,"Blaine intoned, shooting her a grin. "So, I'm thinking we should hit the flea markets this afternoon. What do you guys think?"

Kurt turned around with Rachel's coffee and said, "I think that's genius. What do you think Rachel?"

Kurt set down her coffee and she wrapped her hands around the warm mug before saying, "That sounds good, but we'll have to wait until after my grief counseling."

Blaine and Kurt were silent, both of them exchanging looks over the table. She hadn't given them much when she came back from that first meeting the week prior. They'd asked how it was and she told them it was okay. She didn't mention that she spoke during the meeting or that she planned on returning, and she certainly didn't mention Jesse. His being there implied something that she felt it wasn't her place to reveal. Both had assumed she wouldn't go back.

"What time is your meeting?" Kurt finally asked.

"One o'clock," Rachel said. "I should be back by three at the latest."

"Alright, then we'll go at three," Kurt said.

"That's better anyway," Blaine added. "We'll beat the crowds."

Rachel nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. Blaine and Kurt had adopted her into their morning routine almost automatically, and she took solace in the near normalcy that had developed between the three of them. They continued planning their day, asking for her input now and then. They were largely self-sufficient, though, and didn't say a word when she wondered back into her room to get ready for the meeting.

"You came back," Jesse said, appraising Rachel coolly when she sat next to him in the circle of chairs. She'd chosen the same one that she'd been in before, just in front of the refreshment table.

"Yeah, I came back."

"I wasn't so sure," he said. "I thought the cookies might have scared you off."

She smiled slightly. "They weren't as bad as you said."

"Is that so?"

"My dads were always baking awful cookies. I have a high tolerance."

He laughed. "Good to know. So, how are you doing?"

Her smile faltered. "I thought I was doing better. No, I was. I was doing better. And then I dreamed about him last night, and, I don't know. It has me feeling all off kilter again."

"I'm sorry," he said, lips pursed into a frown. "That's rough."

She nodded, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Twenty minutes later, she was telling the dream to the entire group. The thought of sharing this much frightened her at first, but the purging of absolutely every feeling and thought from that dream was cathartic. She felt lighter, afterwards, as if a weight had been lifted and she could breathe again.

"We were in our bed in Lima," she said softly, caught up in the false memoir. That conversation never happened, yet it felt so real. "We used to talk in the morning after our alarm went off. We'd spend five, maybe then minutes just going on about the day or what was on our minds."

"How did it feel when you woke up?" Harry asked.

"Like I'd been plunged into cold water," she said. "The shock of being here and him not being with me...it was difficult."

"And how do you feel now?"

Rachel considered that for a moment. Sharing made her feel lighter, but it hadn't done much to relieve the constant ache in her chest that had been there ever since the call. Maybe that ache wasn't supposed to go away.

After the meeting Rachel and Jesse sat off to the side by themselves. Both skipped the cookies and drank lukewarm cups of coffee with too much powdered milk in them.

"Tell me about her," Rachel asked suddenly. Finn needed no explanation with Jesse - at least not much - but she knew nothing about his former fiancee.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, her name would be nice."

He smiled a bit. "Hannah. Her name was Hannah."

"Pretty name," Rachel murmured. She'd never met a Hannah before. She supposed that was still true. "What was she like?"

Jesse took a deep breath, and she understood the hesitance. It was difficult to really describe the person you loved. Words never seemed enough to convey what the person could. But now, words were all that were left.

"She had this laugh that you could hear across a room," Jesse began, voice soft - reverent even. "And she used to snort. She always snorted, and then I'd start laughing. She always yelled at me for that, but then we were laughing together and she'd forget why she was yelling." He paused, eyes staring off at a time only he could remember. "I think her laugh might be my favorite sound."

Rachel smiled sadly. Finn's laugh had been her favorite sound. Now she couldn't fully remember it.

"Was she a musical person?"

Jesse shook his head. "She hated them. I took her to see Evita once and she talked through the entire first act."

"She what?" Rachel said loudly, unable to stop herself. She was worried for a moment that Jesse would be upset, but he only laughed.

"I know. My thoughts exactly. We left after intermission because I told her that talking through the first act was comparable with giving Andrew Lloyd Webber the finger, and that just wasn't done."

Rachel smirked, imagining the lecture. "And how did she take that?"

"Oh, quite well. She was relieved to leave. For weeks after I wondered if she purposely ticked me off so that she wouldn't have to sit through the last act."

"She sounds wonderful," Rachel said, realizing too late the tense she'd used. Jesse was used to it, though. Just as she was whenever someone mentioned Finn in the present tense.

"She was," he returned easily, his eyes just a bit more hooded than normal. "She really was. So, tell me about Finn. I don't think my few months of knowing him are enough."

Rachel smiled a bit at that and said, "He ended up being McKinley's choir director. I taught voice lessons for his students."

"If that isn't a perfect setup, I don't know what is."

She nodded. "We were happy. He was wonderful with the kids. You should have seen him, Jesse. They really liked him, but respected him, too."

She fell silent when she thought of his choir kids at his memorial. They sang a compilation of songs that they'd prepared themselves after they heard the news. As she watched them sing, holding back tears, she knew that Finn was looking down on them and was proud. Those were those kids, and they had done good.

"I could imagine him being good with kids," Jesse said. "He was always sort of goofy. Kids love that stuff."

Rachel nodded, finding herself distracted by thoughts of the life her and Finn would never share. He would have made a remarkable father. She saw how patient he was with his students, and the love and dedication that poured out of him.

"I'm sorry," Jesse said after another prolonged bout of silence. "I feel like I've upset you somehow."

"No," she said truthfully, shaking her head. "You just...had me thinking."

"About him?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Everything we didn't get a chance to do."

"I know how that is," Jesse said, words heavy with meaning. She glanced at his empty ring finger and wondered if he had a ring at home or if they hadn't gotten around to that part yet. She imagined managing cancer probably trumped ring shopping.

"Aren't we a pair," Rachel said with a small smile. "Going on about our dead significant others."

"This is a grief counseling session," Jesse reminded her.

"I know," she said, standing up. "You want another cup of coffee?"

He nodded, gazing up at her. "Sure."

She returned with their coffees and he said, "You know, there's a difference."

"A difference between what?"

"Remembering them and refusing to let them go."

She stared down into her coffee cup, wondering which category she fell into.

The flea market was filled with people, even in the late afternoon. It was unseasonably warm and Rachel wound her hair into a bun on the top of her head, securing it with a scarf she bought at one of the stands. She walked around, catching sight of Blaine and Kurt now and again. They'd separated when it became evident that their tastes were diametrically opposed. The only items their tastes converged on were old vintage records. She'd found a few Liza ones for Kurt and she saw a Barbra one tucked under his arm.

She stopped at a booth and ran her fingers over a Journey album. It was only the album cover and it was framed with a little hook on the back so that you could hang it on a wall. She thought of Finn and how it was the exact thing he would have talked her into buying. She walked past it, but then found herself returning. Jesse's words rang in her ears.

"You've got to be kidding me," Kurt said from behind her. "A Journey album?"

"It's not a Journey album," Blaine pointed out. "It's framed. See, Kurt? It's art."

"A framed Journey album isn't art."

"Neither is a framed Barbra Streisand album, and you had that in your old apartment," Blaine said.

"Did you just insult Barbra? We might need to get a divorce."

"I'll take it," Rachel said, pulling her wallet from her purse. That evening Rachel put the framed album above the bed in her bedroom. She peered at it, and for the first time felt somewhat like she was home.

A/N: Not super long. What can I say? I ran out of steam for this chapter. Anyhoo, some fun tidbits to look forward to in the future: Santana Lopez; Jesse and Rachel outside of grief counseling; and other exciting things. If you want to see them, PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK.