Chapter III: Lost

I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt to lose something you never really had.

~From the television show The Wonder Years

Quinn, will you pray for me?

I understand that maybe you're not too big on God right now after everything that's happened, but I figure you're the best shot I've got – so could you do that? I've made up my mind, but it would be nice to know that someone's going to remember me. I don't know, this is stupid. But – I have to ask anyway, okay? So – please pray for me? Please, Quinn?

Finn may not be the brightest bulb of the bunch, but when he hears the gunshot and gets a scared text from Kurt, he knows that something's up. For a moment his stomach flip-flops and he wonders if this is Kurt's stupid crush rearing it's ugly head again, but then he tells himself he's being stupid and paranoid. So he just texts him back and then puts his phone in his pocket, inching to text but worried about getting his friends in trouble.

"This sucks, man," Puck says, leaning his head against the lockers. Finn shrugs. At least in the locker room they can talk about whatever until this whole thing is over. They could probably even leave if they wanted (and Finn kind of wants too, given that there's obviously some kind of maniac in the school who's going around with a gun), but they always learned in those school drills to stay put. So Finn is staying, ass on bench.

"Tell me about it," Finn agrees. He too leans against the lockers, because although he's loath to acknowledge he has anything in common with Puck, it is getting tiring trying to sit upright. If Rachel were here, she would lecture him about the importance of good posture insofar as good singing and the necessity of keeping the trachea clear and the windpipe straight (the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, Finn). And he would pretend he understood words like insofar and trachea.

"I wonder what's happening?" Puck says, looking around as though the walls might speak, share the secrets they're whispering among each other. But no sound comes from the walls, and Finn and Puck are left to their own imaginations to think about what might be happening.

Finn's thoughts turn to Rachel, and a smile creeps onto to his face that he hopes Puck doesn't see and ask him about. Something has been changing in him lately – he's starting to think he might love her. It's only been a couple of months, true, but that's not the point. He might love Rachel (a shiver runs up his back).

The only problem is that even thinking about that? Man, that's scary shit right there. After everything that happened with Quinn (Quinn, who lied!) he wasn't sure how he was going to get over that. After all, the last time he thought he was over it things went very, very badly. It wasn't fair to Rachel that he used her like that, and he's really sorry. He never wants to hurt her like that again.

He was surprised when she agreed to go out with him, actually. He thought maybe he had hurt her too much, that she would shake her head (no, Finn) and turn away, her perfect hips swinging as she walked away (so mesmerizing, so desirable). But instead a soft glow came behind her eyes and she said yes. She said yes and he couldn't stop grinning for the rest of the day after that because he was going on a date with Rachel.

"You can ask me anything, Finn," Rachel told him later. She reached up to cup the side of his face, smiling sweetly at him. (She is so damn beautiful).

"What?" he asked, confused but trying so so very very hard not to make her angry (Quinn was always getting angry – God, you're stupid, Finn! Ohmigod, I just took the Lord's name in vain! Oh my God! Oh my God, that's four times now – it's a sin to take the Lord's name in vain! A sin!).

"I mean it. You can ask me anything, and I'll answer you truthfully, okay? Because I want our relationship to be built on honesty," she said, looking him straight in the eye. "You know, Jesse lied to me about a lot of stuff, and Quinn lied to you, so I just want you feel safe, and feel like I won't keep stuff from you, okay? I will never lie to you Finn. Never," she swore. "So you can ask me anything you want, and I'll answer." Then she gave him the sweetest smile, and he kissed her because Finn's always been more an action than a wordy kind of guy.

She tasted like apples and chamomile tea, and he even found a sick-sweet drop of honey in there too. It made him think of autumn, which made him think of football season, and that made him think of Quinn in her little Cheerio skirt and that made him think of Rachel in a Cheerio uniform (because if he was going to be fantasizing about anyone right now, it damn well better be Rachel because he was pretty sure she could read minds and wouldn't be happy if she wasn't the star). Rachel would look good in a Cheerio uniform, he thought. He would have to find some way to snag an extra one, keep his fingers crossed that Rachel was into that kind of thing.

That had been a good night. He would have savored it more if he had known what was coming, because lately things have been – well, Rachel's been weird lately. Like, more so than usual. She's been, like, really quiet, even at Glee practice. And she isn't wearing makeup, and her clothes are getting baggier and uglier. One day, she came to school in jeans and a white t-shirt with a navy cardigan. Her hair was unwashed, thrown back in a braid. And not that Rachel isn't totally capable of pulling off the effortless-cute look, because she is, but the thing is that – that's not like her. Finn knows he isn't smart, but he notices things, he does. It's the putting them all together part that he has trouble with.

"Do you love me?" Rachel asked last week when they were sitting on his bed, staring at the ceiling. They were fully dressed, because after the baby thing Finn's been a little scared of getting physical with a girl because apparently she really could get pregnant. (What, did you think it was an urban legend before? That the stork brought babies?). His mom didn't even make him keep the door to his room open, that's how freaked out he was about getting Rachel pregnant. He kind of wished she would, because just because he wasn't going to try anything didn't mean that he wanted everyone to believe that he wasn't going to try anything, you know? Although Kurt warned him about desecrating the room, so that made him feel a little better (once Rachel explained to him what the word desecrate meant, anyway).

"Finn, I asked you a question. Do you love me?" Rachel said, still staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to life. Finn shrugged, and prayed that he would be able to get out of this one.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he said. She smiled, tried to open her mouth, but he was quicker and he kissed her, shutting her up quite effectively. Or it would have if she hadn't pulled away and frowned at him.

"Don't try to distract me – " She cut herself off, grimacing. "Actually, never mind." Then she straddled him and began kissing him fiercely, grinding her hips on his. He grabbed her, holding her in place as she rocked against him. She was so soft and warm, and his jeans were getting tighter as she ran her fingers under his shirt, over his chest.

"Rach – "

"Shh," she said, shaking her head. "There's only one thing I want to do right now. And only one person I want to do it with," she said, nuzzling his neck. And he didn't know what to do, because what kind of guy was he if he turned down sleeping with his freaking girlfriend? What kind of –

"Finn, what did I say about desecrating the room?" Kurt's voice was like a godsend. Finn almost let out a sigh of relief, but remembered at the last minute and instead gave a little laugh.

"Sorry, dude," he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Kurt rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

"You could at least give me some warning. One more minute and I would have seen you two doing the horizontal tango, and that's an image I don't need scarring me for the rest of my life, thank you very much. Do you know how expensive therapy is?" he chided. Rachel narrowed her eyes at him, then shot Finn a smile as she dismounted.

"I should go home," she said. "Finn, I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, sitting up at watching he disappear upstairs. When the door clicked shut behind her he flopped back down on his bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what was wrong with him that he couldn't tell her he loved her and he couldn't bring himself to fuck her. Because really, he should have been at least able to do one of those things for her, right?

Now, sitting in the locker room with Puck, he can't help but think about her, and hope she's okay. He sends her a text (hey, are you alright? Do you know what's going on?), but she doesn't respond. He expected as much. Rachel is a good girl who doesn't text during classes, even when the whole world is falling apart, even when she's only in stupid study hall. He's thinking that maybe he'll tell her he loves her soon –

"Dude!" Puck exclaims. He leaps up from the bench and startles Finn so much that he falls off. (God, Finn, you are such a girl.). Finn grumbled and gets up, figuring that if he yells at Puck enough it will ease some of his humiliation. To his surprise, however, Puck is paying him absolutely no attention. Okay, he's got Finn's attention now.

"What?" Finn asks, coming over to look over his shoulder at the phone. Puck's brows are knit with worry, and he's biting his lip. "Seriously, dude, you're starting to freak me out," Finn says when he doesn't answer.

"Look at this, it says that someone's dead," Puck says, shoving the device in Finn's face. "Someone got shot, Finn. Someone at McKinley is fucking dead, man." And then Finn feels like he's going to throw up or faint, because this doesn't happen in real life, right? People don't die, people don't get shot. This is high school, for Chrissakes. This is Lima, Ohio – bad things don't happen here. That's why he and Mom came here after his dad died.

His stomach feels sick, and he's starting to worry because Rachel didn't answer. And yeah, it's probably fine, but he's kind of scared now. What if he never gets to make love to her now, or tell her he loves her? What if she's the – no, he won't think about that. It's too painful and scary to think about, so he won't let himself go there. Instead he sits back down, trying not to freak out. Everything is (fine). He is not going to get upset about something that he doesn't even know is true.

Finn, I love you. I really do. It's okay that you don't love me, that's not why –

That's not why, okay?

I just want you to know that I love you, and you shouldn't have been burdened trying to love me, because that's not fair to anyone. I know that I'm not lovable; I used to think maybe I was, but now I know that that was wrong.

It just got so hard, you know? The slushie facials, the stickiness getting in my hair and ruining my makeup and my clothes. I mean, that's why I wore ugly animal sweaters, would you wear something cute, something you actually liked, if you knew it was going to get ruined? You're not supposed to give your precious things to people who can't be trusted with them.

Too bad I forgot that.