Leave Chapter 2, a glee fanfic

Something Missing

AN: The song Rachel sings is Damien Rice's Blowers' Daughter. Don't fool yourself; this is not a reunion for FR. It's gonna get a lot more tear jerking.

So it is

Life goes easy on me

Most of the time

So it is

Shorter story

No love, no glory

No hero in her sky

Can't take my eyes off you

So it is

Just like you said it should be

We both forget the breeze

Most of the time

So it is

Colder water

The blower's daughter

The pupil in denial

Can't take my eyes off you

Did I say that I loathe you?

Did I say that I want you too?

I can't take my mind off you

Maybe I'll find somebody new

She sings her heart out, fixed up with her fine makeup and her green cocktail dress, a crowd to please in a fully sold out show. She can't help the pains she feels as the lyrics rolls off her glossy lips, her tears sliding down as she puts her all into the music she creates, silencing a crowd with the beauty of her talent and the striking voice nobody can forget. He's there drinking his scotch, years after being part, it's only natural they find eachother again. She's all made up and putting on a great show, no tear stained cheeks or cracked smile. He wonders if she has really healed.

The crowd erupts into loud applauses and cheering as she announces her next opening act. He'd been sharing a drink with a colleague in town when they'd stumbled open her performance, she looked so different, so alive, he thought it was a dream or some surreal fantasy. Her figure filled out more from the last time he saw her, all haggard and disheleved from her relentless grief. The crowd bubbles with excitement and chatter as he looks on, captivated by her glow once again. She was back. His girl was back, ready to live again.

He smiled into the distance, his eyes fixated by her energy as she rambles on about how she'd always wanted to be on Broadway but never made it, so she laughs nervously and cracks a joke about how being a cabaret singer in the town most upscale bar wasn't so bad a second choice. He remembers that time when he's spotted her in her nightwear in school junior year, eating from a bowl and walking like a sleepwalking zombie. He'd told her to stop feeling for herself and he chuckles at her response, so dramatic, so classic Rachel. I need applause to live, I'm like Tinkerbell Finn. It looked like Tinkerbell got her applause and she was living again.

Her dress flutter against her tanned toned legs, they still go on for miles for someone that small, and she disappears into the background again, leaving him, amazed and awestruck once again.

He must have been daydream cos Carl, his friend is nudging.

'Hey, buddy.' The guy clicks his fingers in front of his wide eyes. 'See something you like?'

He swallows, facing his friend. 'Actually, that's Rachel. '

'The Rachel? You're ex girlfriend Rachel, the girl you keeping going on about ad never shut up about?'

'Uh, yeah. That's her.'

His eyes search the crowd as the delicate jazz ensemble plays in the bar, frantically searching for any trace of her.

Carl looks at him with an amused expression on his face. 'if I ever saw a guy whipped.'

He turns around and nudges him. 'Hey, she's my ex...it's just I've not seen her in a while. Where did she go?' His eyes search the crowd again, to no avail of her presence in sight.

'Go find her; we'll talk about the show tomorrow. Go get some tail.' Carl winks at him.

He sighs, annoyed that the guy just referred to Rachel as 'tail'. She was never tail to him.

'I'm gonna go to the mens'. Be right back.'

Carl sips on his martini. 'Sure you will.'

He looks at himself in the mirror of the bathroom, his hair all slick and his own lean toned body fitted perfectly in a tailored suit. He'd done well for himself, without her. Something was missing though, a part of him felt broken without her in his life, living all alone in that dingy apartment. He wonders what became of her after he left. He swings the door back to hear a sobbing noise coming from one of the dressing rooms. He walks into the direction of the sound, discretely. Knocking on the door of the dressing room, he waits.

'Are you okay?'

He hears sniffing and a clatter of tings from the other side of the mahogany door.

'I'm fine.' She answers strong with conviction. Then he hears to most beautiful sound he's heard from her in a long time, she laughs.

'I'm quite a drama queen, just being silly.'

He pushes the door open a little until it creaks.

He enters to find her, her room all messed up with flowers decorated everywhere around her dresser.

'I ripped my dress, you see. It's my favourite dress and you know what us girls are like when it comes to sentimental possessions. I brought this dress for my...er, friend's anniversary.'

He just gazes as she flutters around hunched against the leather cushioned chair.

She was never any good at lying. Brutally honest, she'd called herself.

She's cupping her face in embarrassment when he touched her naked shoulder, stroking it gently as he circles her waist.

'It's ok, Rachel.' He whispers into the air as he holds her.

'It's okay to cry.'

She looks so beautiful tonight, her effervescent glow and her lovely smile as she wipes away the mascara stained tears from her delicate cheeks. She's blushing and she's never looked prettier.

'Finn?'

He sighs, holding her closer as she look at him through the giant mirror of her dresser.

'Don't tell me to leave, please.' He sighs all distraught as she latches onto him, turning around to face him as they embrace.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry I drove you away.'

There's a tear on the hem of her dress and his big hands circle her waist as he carries her, her tears soaking his lapel as they cry together.

'I missed you so much.'

She lets him hold her that night, falling asleep in his arms for the first time in 3 years.

He carries her home that night, she's moved out of Brooklyn and into the theatre capital of New York, New York. She chatters away in the cab as she leans against his shoulder, his arms around her as her tired eyes flicker closed. The lights are bright and he finds himself wondering why her name isn't in lights yet, he tells himself it will be soon. If anybody was going to make a triumph out of a tragedy it would be Rachel.

She stumbles as they walk the sidewalk towards her newly refurbished apartment.

'This is me,' she digs into her tiny glittery purse as her keys dangle from her tiny little hands.

She walks up the stairs but fails as she trips against him, his arms steadying her.

'Here', his hands travel down her thighs as he helps her up, carrying her up as he own dainty arms circle his neck.

She whispers into his neck, her warmth breathe tickling his skin. 'I'm a little tipsy.'

He laughs, as he carries her up the stairs, her keys in his hands as he open her door, inviting himself in as he lays her down on the couch.

She's so tired; she mumbles something in her slumber state, feeling sleepy. Her hands grasp his own, not letting him go.

'Stay. Don't leave'.

She looks so serene and at peace, he can't resist her as he sits beside her, stroking her hair as her eyes flutter closed against the sofa.

He leans in to kiss her temple then softly caress her lips with his own as her hands grip his own, he strokes her knuckles with his thumb, watching her sleep, content.

'Welcome back, Rachel.'