A/N: So this part turned. This is not what I was intending to do with this story at all, but it just flowed so well that I hope it works and it fits their characters. Thank you for all the feedback and all the encouragement with this story. I certainly hope this part lives up to your expectations, and I certainly certainly hope you'll let me know. I'm really bad at hinting, so I thought I would just come right out and say that. Anyway...
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the song I used. No infringement is intended.
Song Used: Pretty Eyes by Jason Reeves
Finn stared at the console in his truck as he sat parked in front of her house. She had told him her dads expected him to come to the door, not just honk the horn. He didn't have a problem with that, either.
What he did have a problem with was getting pulled inside by an angry parent after he'd maybe kinda sorta been so involved in his own problems he hadn't had her home last night as promised to light some candles she still hadn't explained about and, in fact, he hadn't even gotten her home by her curfew after they'd fallen asleep on the blanket at the park while they were counting stars. He couldn't explain it, either, but laying on her was way more comfortable than the sleeping bag on the floor, even if her body was all tight and little and toned.
His other problem was that he was now running late to meet his mom—and only his mom—for brunch. She had suggested lunch and he'd bumped the time up because he wanted Rachel to be able to go and they had told her dads (well, okay, she had taken over and planned their evening and told her dads for him but it was fine, really, just like he'd told her for the fifth time when she had texted him her worries) they would be home no later than three for dinner. It was something to do with Shabbat that they ate so early. Plus, she was in trouble for not being there last night, but not as in trouble as she would be if they flaked two nights in a row.
He sent her another text message. He wanted to make sure she was ready to walk out the door when he knocked. They could sort out the stuff with her dads later.
You ready babe?
His mom had called with tears in her voice and begged him to meet her today. She claimed she really wanted to work everything out, and she said it seemed like there was something between him and Burt getting in the way of the relationship he had with her, but wasn't it all tied together now? He wasn't sure he could really separate it all out. Rachel was way better with this crap than he was, and that was why he'd asked his mom if Rachel could go. Rachel would help him sort this out. He really wanted her to help him with this.
Ready. Come and get me.
He smiled at her message. It sounded like she was a little kid and like she was taunting him. He could only wish they were at the age where playing hide and seek was fun or appropriate. He was old enough now that he was a little more concerned what to do with her now that he had her. He sighed. She had mentioned going slow and it was the first time he had honestly thought about it in any way. Truthfully, he was torn when it came to sex. He really wanted to have it, and he really thought Rachel was super sexy and he thought he might want to have sex with her. On the other hand, he'd gotten just a small taste of it in a motel with Santana (and he still knew he deserved a good face-palm for that one), and he knew he didn't want to just do it. He wanted the whole thing with Rachel—the relationship that lasted forever. He wanted her to be his last first everything. That meant he should go slow, right? Make sure it was right?
And definitely not put them in a position where he might knock her up.
Wow. That was the first time he'd thought of it like that. When he put action then consequence that way, maybe he didn't want to have sex. At least, not yet. He knew he'd feel differently about it the next time they were making out, but sitting in the front seat of his truck at this particular moment, he was okay waiting for a while. Plus, it's not like he'd know what to do anyway, and the last thing he wanted Rachel to think about him was that he was a fail. He wanted her to think he was worth it. She'd have to put way more energy into the relationship before it would be worth it even if he was bad in bed.
Suddenly, he felt a little better facing her dads. It was lots easier when he was thinking about waiting on all the physical stuff than when he was thinking about her like that. He nodded once to himself and tucked his phone into his pocket. He didn't bother locking the truck door before he went up to press the button on the doorbell.
He drew in a breath when her not-black dad opened the door. He had told Finn his name the other day, but to Finn his first name didn't really matter.
"Hi, Mr. Berry," he said simply, keeping his eyes on the stairs behind the older man's head.
"Hello, Finn. Is there something I can help you with?" He asked, pulling the door a little closer.
Finn felt the uncertain blush creep up his cheeks and his heartbeat kicked in a little faster. "Ummm…" he looked down, wondering if he could possibly get his phone out of his pocket and text Rachel to ask for help without her dad noticing.
"I'm just kidding. Rachel should be right down. Come on inside," he offered with a chuckle, stepping off to the side and opening the door a little wider. Once Finn stepped inside and her dad closed the door, Finn tucked his hands in his pockets. He was planning on standing in the entryway until he saw Rachel's familiar face.
His mouth didn't feel totally dry, though, so he did feel comfortable extending another apology for the night before. "I'm still really, really sorry about last night." Finn said. "I…I guess I just have too much going on with my family. I should've had Rachel home sooner."
"Rachel filled us in this morning," he said simply. "Don't worry about it too much." He shrugged and flicked a glance toward the stairs and Finn felt himself relax a little bit. At least this was weird for both of them. And where was Rachel, anyway?
Finn nodded. "Well, I just don't want you to think I have too much going on to take good care of Rachel. She can take care of herself just fine and all but I… well…"
Her dad smiled widely. "Call me Hiram."
"Okay, Hiram." Finn gasped out a small breath. "I'm sorry, I'm really nervous." It was the first time in his life honesty had been the best policy.
"I think we both are." He lowered his voice and moved a little closer to Finn. "Rachel has told us enough about you that we like you."
"Has she told you that I'm bad with words? At some point I'm sure I'll blurt out something bad."
At this Hiram laughed. "She might've mentioned it, Finn. She might've mentioned it."
It was about now that Rachel came bounding down the stairs, dressed in a sleeveless blue dress with a little bit lower neckline than he was used to seeing on her. Now his mouth was dry. She was so pretty and he was so lucky. He only wished they were going somewhere fun and he wasn't the dirtbag who'd gotten her into trouble last night.
"Hi," she said.
He tried to smile, tried to force his thoughts from the thousands of other directions they'd gone the instant he saw her. "Hi," he responded, feeling like even that word was forced.
And he was stupid for thinking he could hold off on the physical stuff. It was kind of totally up to her, and he knew she knew it. But it was a good thing, her being in charge, because he knew he probably shouldn't be.
Her shoes made her much taller, probably at least two or three inches, and he noticed when she breezed up to him to brush a kiss on his cheek. He only had to bend down a little bit to accept it. He caught the mint smell from her lip gloss, and he noticed the way she didn't really press her lips down so she didn't get the goop all over his face.
He had rested his hand on her waist out of habit as he bent to accept her kiss and she didn't move enough now that it fell off her. Her dress was kind of a rough material, the feel of it under his fingertips a little distracting and all, but there was also a see-through strip at the bottom where the hemline grazed the middle of her thigh. This was where his eyes fell as she turned to offer a kiss on the cheek to her dad, and he hoped Hiram Berry didn't catch him staring at Rachel's legs. That would just be awkward even if her legs were hot and she wore short dresses that made it obvious how hot her legs were, even more with the crazy high heels, and how perfect her tan was and…
…and now she was staring at him like he was crazy.
"Okay, let's go," he said, snapping his eyes off her and turning for the door. He held the door and waited for her to go through before he pressed a hand into her back and followed right behind her down the steps and to his truck.
Once they got seated in the truck, she slid over on the small bench seat and grabbed his face to plant a long kiss on him. She finally dragged her knees over so she was kneeling on the seat and kissing him absolutely senseless. He had been careful so far, trying so hard not to let his hands wander too far. He let them wander a little this time, around the small tie that was at her waist, and up just a little to toy with the bottom of the blue ruffles that came all the way down her shoulders, across her chest, and faded to almost nothing at the waistband.
"What was that for?" He asked, dazed when he pulled away. He was still playing with the frills from her dress in his fingers as he dragged his eyes open to look at her.
"Well…we didn't try that last night and I was thinking maybe you would be less nervous if I just kissed you until you couldn't think straight."
He smiled and nodded at her. "We should totally try that. But let's do it in the parking lot at the restaurant too, okay?"
She nodded and settled back onto her side of the truck. "Okay."
"Are you sure you didn't get into too much trouble last night?" He asked softly. It had been too long since he touched her so he reached out and grabbed her hand.
"Yes," she said. "They were concerned, but as soon as I called to explain that I had left my phone in the car and we were out in public, they relaxed a little. Then our neighbor was called as a witness because she had stopped by after walking her dog to confirm she'd seen us asleep on the blanket in the park."
He breathed out a little. "I just don't want to piss them off when we haven't even been together for a month yet because that makes the rest of our lives, like, really long."
"The rest of our lives?" She asked, her voice no more than a squeak as she looked over at him.
"What?" He asked, his gaze alternating quickly between her skeptical glance and the nearly-empty road.
"I didn't know boys thought about things like that," she said, finally turning forward. She shrugged a little.
"Yeah, well…that's why I'm so nervous to meet them," he admitted in a low voice.
"You shouldn't be nervous," she said. "Maybe we'll have to try making out as a distraction for that, too."
"That's not a good idea," he grumbled. The next flick of a glance toward her was met with a scowl. He must've been getting better at reading her than he thought because he was pretty sure he knew what that was all about. "I mean, it's probably not cool if I hang out with your dads after…with…"
She flushed a deep red that almost made her looked sunburned and didn't say another word about it, but at least her scowl was gone.
Rachel was still pondering that as Finn pulled his truck into the diner parking lot. She had seen his mom's car, but she was still distracted. She knew what it felt like for her when they made out. She knew what she thought of when they made all the quiet promises and had all the conversations about being a couple on the blanket at the park. But she had never stopped to think about the fact that he might be thinking or feeling some of the same things.
He parked the truck and pulled the keys out of the ignition before he turned to look at her. "So much for a distraction," he teased lightly.
She thought about sitting across from his mom, and the innocent look he always had on his face while he was talking to or about his mom. Could she really sit there with her lips still on fire from his kisses and the words he whispered turning her cheeks pink, while he sat there looking so boyish?
"I think you're right," she said simply. His eyebrows went up in surprise. Rachel almost never said those words, in that order, to or about another person. "That would be a bad idea."
He smiled a little bit. He had asked her to come with him because he felt shaky and got so mad when he was trying to deal with all this family stuff. He thought he might know a way to make her feel really good but she would probably not be a lot of help to him during breakfast if he did. He decided to go for it anyway because it seemed like a good boyfriend thing to do. Every minute he was with her, he just wanted to be a better boyfriend.
Finn reached his hand out and touched the ruffles on the stomach of her dress. He felt her stomach pull away from the fabric with her soft inhale, and that was awesome, but the look in her eyes was even better. "I like your dress. It's really pretty on you," he admitted. It was totally okay to admit stuff like that when it was just you and your girlfriend, right? Because she just kept watching him, and even though her mouth didn't move, her eyes were happy and it looked like maybe she was glowing from his compliment.
She thought maybe she should thank him, but she couldn't open her mouth to get the words out. So instead she watched as he got out of the truck and came around to her side. Apparently, it had been a rather large conversation at the Hudson-Hummel family dinner at some point before the bigger stuff settled in—little things about how to treat a date. He had become a stickler about opening her doors and while it went against everything in her independent nature to submit to him like that, on the other hand it totally didn't and she loved it. He usually wasn't a detail-oriented kind of guy and she liked this small detail that she had learned about him.
He took her hand to help her out of the car and kissed the back of it before he dropped it and clutched her fingers in a more familiar way as they walked in. Carole was sitting alone in a booth with a cup of coffee in front of her as they slid into the side opposite her.
It was, as Carole had predicted in her call to Finn earlier, a much more relaxed setting. They didn't talk right away but the silence wasn't necessarily uncomfortable. They actually placed their order and had their drinks before anyone spoke.
Unsurprisingly, Carole was the first. "Finn, I really miss you."
Her quiet, sincere words took both of them off-guard. Rachel felt all her defenses and uncertainty slide as she looked over at Finn and waited for him to say something.
"I miss you, too," he said. He shrugged a little bit. "That's not the problem."
"I know it's not," his mom admitted. She pulled her coffee mug closer to her and looked down into it. Although she was much shorter than Finn, Rachel noticed something familiar in the hunch of the woman's shoulders and in her entire posture as she seemed to surround the cup on the table. She fought the urge to smile at the commonality between mother and son but, just like last night, she rested her hand on Finn's leg and continued to watch him.
"I'm glad you're happy with Burt," he said eventually. "I really am."
"You've always had a really hard time with change," Carole started. "And this is a big one. I never expected it to go smoothly." She pulled in a deep breath. "But I need you to try harder. I'm willing to try harder, too. So tell me what you want me to do."
Finn sighed and nodded, looking at Rachel a little before he wanted to speak. He dropped his hand to grab hers and his grip was so tight it almost took her breath away. This was just so hard for him. She wished there was more she could do, but he hadn't talked about anything like this. She didn't know what he was going to say.
There was a long, tense pause before he even took a breath. "I don't want to live in that house. I can't share a room with Kurt, no matter how many privacy partitions or whatever else he puts up."
Carole nodded. "We have already been looking, but it's going to take time. We can't afford to do much until the other houses are sold, though."
"I can't share a bathroom with him, either."
Carole nodded again. "Well, we know you can share one with me. What about Burt?"
Finn sighed. He was learning about compromise. It was part of his new relationship and was starting to be a major (pain in the ass) part of his life. He knew that's what it would be, if they allowed him to shower upstairs or whatever. It would be a compromise. He looked at Rachel and then he realized how tightly he was holding her hand. There was no way that should be okay. But when she looked back at him she wasn't pulling a face or anything so she was probably okay, right? And he needed to hold her hand. He needed to touch her, to know she was there. It made him feel better.
How could someone's hand, someone else's breathing right next you, how could that make it easier to figure out what you were thinking and to put it into words?
Rachel was watching him struggle. She always had words. There were always no less than a hundred words on the tip of her tongue, and that was operating at a net capacity. As soon as she'd spoken something, more replaced them. She wasn't sure how to loan him that ability, she only wished it were possible. But she didn't want to seem patronizing and try to speak for him (yet another quality of her personality she wanted to tone down a little). Plus, she didn't know what he was thinking exactly, even though he was looking at her like he was waiting for her to talk.
"Finn, do you have a problem with Burt?" Rachel asked softly.
"He hates me," Finn said simply. "How could I not have a problem with him?"
She scowled, and as soon as all the doubt and hurt in his voice hit her ears it was like she forgot anyone else was with them. She just wanted to fix it. There was nothing she could do about him feeling like Burt wasn't his dad. "Why do you think he hates you?"
"He called me poison, Rachel." His voice was low and full of steel and she frowned. She didn't have a comeback for that. Burt himself said he wasn't sorry for it.
She pulled her orange juice up from the table and pulled her hand off his leg so she could use it to hold her straw in place as she drank. Finn was watching, swallowed once hard, and then excused himself. She set the cup back down and sighed as she watched him go.
If the silence before was comfortable, it was only because Finn was there. The silence between the two women was unbearable.
"My dads have offered to let Finn stay in our guest bedroom," Rachel began. "They discussed it with me this morning. Finn said your old house has sold and he needed somewhere to stay and…well…that's an option."
Carole watched her as she spoke, but the sinking feeling didn't disappear. Carole felt like she was losing her son, the most important person in the world to her, and she didn't really see how options would help. "You seem like a smart girl, Rachel. Do you think that's a good idea?" Carole kind of hesitated to ask the question; if everything she had seen about Rachel was true (and granted, it wasn't much just yet), she thought maybe having her adoring boyfriend under the same roof would hold a lot of appeal for the pint-sized beauty.
Rachel's eyes swept over Carole's face. There was no way a devoted mother would want her son to live with other people. It tickled at the back of her throat and made her want to cry.
Her dads were…beyond the best. They were amazing and they loved her and were her two biggest advocates. But it didn't change the fact that she'd always wanted a mother. There was something special that a strong female provided for a child, especially a female child, and Rachel knew it. She picked up her juice again, hoping to swallow the tears that threatened along with the beverage. All she had ever wanted was what Finn had—a loving mother. Her own mother had closed that door. Slammed it, actually. Right in her face, no looking back or second guessing. And here was Carole, the actual example of a devoted mother, doing exactly that for her child. For Finn. He deserved it. But Rachel wanted it, too.
"No I don't," she answered finally, her voice a little rough. "I think Finn is lucky to have you and he should work this out now before it gets any worse. I don't see a single way that would be possible if he isn't living under your roof."
A mother should want her child with her. A mother should love her child enough to figure out the hard stuff. Rachel closed her eyes, overcome for a moment with her own thoughts and wishes for what a mother should be, should do; her own wishes for something she'd never known, always idealized, and would never, ever have.
For all her ruminations last night about how unfamiliar Finn's family situation was to her, she now realized knew exactly how Finn felt. And it was pretty helpless.
She really, really didn't want to cry in front of Finn's mother and she couldn't even bear to look at the other woman just then. Finn's mother had invited Quinn to live with them when Quinn was pregnant and by all accounts had gotten along with Quinn. She got along with the girl who was not emotional or loud and who never lost her composure easily. It wasn't a stretch to imagine she would hate Rachel being so drastically opposite. So she sat with her eyes closed her head turned and she tried the first breathing exercise she had ever learned at vocal lessons.
"Rach?" She felt him settle back onto the bench next to her, but she couldn't turn her head and look at him. If she looked at him she would absolutely lose it.
"What happened?" He asked, obviously redirecting his attention to his mom.
"I-I-I don't know," Carole stammered. "She just said her dads had offered to let you stay with them when the house sold and…" Carole gestured toward where Rachel was still sitting with her posture slumped and biting her lip with her eyes closed, her breathing largely controlled but occasionally ragged as it got away from her.
"That's not a good idea," Finn said simply. He was casting doubtful glances at the back of Rachel's head and then looking back to his mom.
The server came with their food and there was the hassle of sorting all that out. Rachel didn't move, still fighting and slowly losing her battle for control.
She kept telling herself that this, none of this was about her, and as out-of-character as it might've seemed, she didn't want to steal the focus. Not this time.
Finally, Finn spoke around a mouthful of…something. What had he just eaten? He glanced down at his plate. Maybe Rachel found his bacon offensive? She hadn't ever really stayed turned away from his food before. Commented that she wished he didn't eat sixteen bites at a time, sure. But she hadn't ever just shut down right in the middle of conversation just because there were eggs on the table. But maybe she'd had some weird flashback to Jesse? He sighed. The food hadn't even been on the table at the time. The food wasn't the problem.
Take that Quinn – he was too capable of deductive reasoning.
He finally looked at his mom, having received a little clarity in the restroom even if all he'd done was wash his hands. Four times. Maybe the answer was in the soap or something. Either way, he had a feeling he'd better spit this out and figure out what was going on with Rachel.
"I will move in if Burt says it's okay as long as I don't have to be alone with him or Kurt. When you aren't there, I won't be either unless I'm asleep. I already have one job and I can get another one if I need to just to stay out of the house more."
"Okay," Carole said simply. "And Finn, really, I'm sorry. I should've gotten the entire story. I guess I was just so caught up in the idea of a whole family for us that I…I…"
"Well, Kurt's kinda like the daughter you never had," Finn said with a shrug and a little bit of his normal humor returning. He glanced over at Rachel, who had only moved to bring her hand over her eyes, trying to stop the tears that were leaking out with her fingers so the others wouldn't see. He frowned. "And maybe eventually Rachel will be another one."
And he must've said something wrong, because she freaked out. She pulled her hand away from her face and pushed against him frantically, her breathing ragged and out of control. He was totally stunned and must not have moved quick enough because she was up and over the seat of the booth faster than he could do anything.
He sort of knew what it was, just by watching. It was how he had felt last night only expressed like Rachel would express it. He would zone out and try to find a distraction. Rachel would claw her way out of a booth, out of a restaurant…he just didn't know what would make her do all that. And he remembered again that they were just starting out. He needed to learn what made her act like this. He had to go figure it out. He had no idea how to help her.
He looked at his mom, totally panic-stricken and hoping for any sort of advice. She seemed just as surprised by it as he was and it was like she expected him to know what to do. Except he didn't. He didn't know what to do at all. Rachel was the one who had known what to do last night when he felt like that.
"Go," Carole said simply. He nodded, then rose and turned in the same step, out the door the same way Rachel had gone. Carole sighed, pulling her mug of coffee up to her lips as she watched Finn jog by the large diner window in search of his girlfriend. She sighed and got her cell phone out of her purse, waiting for the inevitable text message that said they weren't coming back.
Finn had passed the parking lot for the small diner and now his gaze was reaching out further than his run, looking for any sign of her—any flash of brown hair or blue dress or tanned legs—but he didn't see anything. He reached the end of the block and slowed to a stop.
That wasn't good. How do you narrow down a direction where there are three to choose from? One in three are not very good odds, even he knows that. He inhaled a deep breath to maybe stop his heart from pounding right out of his chest and even though he wasn't winded, he thought maybe he should start doing laps or something again because his heart shouldn't have been beating so hard if he were really in shape enough for football camp. But his heart wasn't beating out of his chest because he had been running, it was beating out of his chest because he was scared. Like an hour out of the house and he'd already lost her. How would he make that up to her dads? They trusted him to keep her safe.
Beyond that, how could he explain it to her? Maybe she thought once they had decided to become a couple they were automatically linked by GPS or something else. Maybe she expected that he could just magically find her and—why? Why couldn't he magically find her?
It all went back to figuring out how her mind worked. He took another deep breath. If he were Rachel Berry, and he were upset about something but no one knew what, where would he go?
Oh, that wasn't helping. But at least he caught a glimpse of her.
She was sinking to the ground underneath a tree right outside the building he recognized as the…Jewish church. He probably ought to make an effort to remember exactly what that building was named.
But regardless, he had a direction and he walked toward her instead of running. She had her face in her hands still and her shoulders were shaking. Her legs were twisted underneath her in a way that there was no way it was comfortable and all he could remember was burying his face in her dress last night and crying until he didn't feel like there were tears left and he felt like the world's worst boyfriend because she was crying into her hands instead of leaning on him.
His steps slowed down as he walked toward her and he tucked his hands into loose pockets of the cargo shorts. He stopped entirely just a few feet away from her and watched her carefully, only sort of taking heart in the fact there was no way he'd done this. That didn't mean it wasn't up to him to undo it.
She was totally not aware he was there. He sat down next to her and crossed his legs into a triangle before he pulled her into his lap. She gasped and looked up in surprise as his hands touched her arms, but she moved willingly against him and instead of backing away like the day before, she turned into him.
And that folks, is what they call progress.
Not such a great feeling? Well, besides the crying of course—the tree she had picked to sit under was next to a sidewalk. And the sidewalk led into the building. And the door that it led into was the one her dad walked out of as soon as the services were over for the morning.
So to sum up: Rachel was still in trouble for not coming home on time. Rachel was crying hysterically in his lap. And her dad was walking toward him. Yeah, any relief he felt when she actually accepted any sort of physical comfort was kind of cancelled out by the look on her dad's face as he approached them.
"Rach," he said, letting his fingertips dance over her bare arm. It didn't really seem to get through.
"What's going on here?" Hiram Berry asked as he approached.
Finn really didn't want to try and answer the question while the guy's daughter was in his lap. Even if it was completely innocent. Which it totally was—of course. (And THANK GOD. If this was awkward, getting caught making out would be about a thousand times worse and he was not quite ready for that heart attack yet.)
"I don't know," Finn said carefully. He didn't want to speak too loudly and pop whatever hell-bubble she was in at the moment even though that was kind of his overall goal here. "Um…"
Hiram had obviously realized that Finn was a total idiot with crying girl, and had also obviously decided to take pity on Finn since if he was an idiot with crying girl, he was just in for it…like for the long haul. Because with this particular girl, well, this scenario was going to play out a lot in the future most likely.
"Get her a glass of water," Hiram said, keeping his voice low, too. "The colder the better."
Finn frowned, but nodded. He had seen a glass in her room with a gold star on it. He wondered if it was something special or if it had to be that glass or something. But he wasn't really supposed to have spent that much time in her room; half of what he had spent, he had a feeling, was kind of off the map. So he didn't ask and he didn't say anything else.
Yay for filters kicking in!
"And maybe we'll have dinner tomorrow," Hiram said, giving Finn a small smile. "Just figure this out instead, okay?"
Finn nodded again as Rachel's dad walked away. It was more like one long nod and oh—shit. His mom was still sitting at the diner. He had no idea how long they'd been gone. It was kind of awkward, but he fished his phone out of his pocket and shot off a one-handed message to his mom. Idk what's wrong. Might be a while. Will call later.
He didn't bother putting the phone back in his pocket. He had no reason to believe Rachel had any idea what was actually going on around her.
"Rach," he tried again. He kissed her forehead and breathed and that seemed to be the contact that woke her up. She pulled her head away from his shoulder and looked at his face and she was sure from the look on his face that she was a total mess. She tried to push herself away from him, but his arms were holding on and they weren't letting go.
And she thought that maybe this was part of going slow, too. She needed to talk to him. She needed to tell him about things that had happened while they were still friends but she hadn't mentioned before because they were just…some things were too much for 'just friends' to talk about. But now she was surrounded with his family issues and it didn't seem fair, but maybe she should surround him with hers, too.
"I'm bad at communication," she said simply.
He raised his eyebrows and looked at her. "You?" He asked. And even though he wasn't laughing, he kind of choked out the word. "No you aren't."
He seemed to consider his stance on this for a minute.
"Okay, sometimes I think we don't talk about really important stuff that well. We're good with the 'hi, how was your weekend' and 'do you have summer plans' kind of stuff. I know things about you like you secretly like grape slushies—just for drinking, not for throwing—and you don't wear socks if it's going to be sunny outside because you like flip flops in the summer." He sighed. "But we're still figuring out all that secret kind of stuff, aren't we? Like the real stuff."
She looked over his face and nodded. "Yeah, and I left out a lot of real stuff at regionals."
His heart that was beating so hard while he was looking for her started up again. He was kind of afraid maybe, if it was from that long ago, well maybe he had done something.
"Mercedes told everyone what happened when we were spying on Vocal Adrenaline," she said quietly, straight out. "That Shelby Corcoran is my mother."
And while it kind of took the sting out of it, his heart didn't slow down. It wasn't him—but it was still something big. He didn't know how good he would be at something big. He nodded.
"Well, I invited her to come co-direct New Directions because I wanted the opportunity to learn from her. She's a gifted performer and…" she trailed off. "When me and Mercedes and Quinn went on that spying trip, she pulled a Funny Girl song out of her back pocket to inspire Vocal Adrenaline during their rehearsal."
He frowned. He swore, would swear, he'd been paying attention for a lot longer than the last few minutes. "And that's where you got the song you did for sectionals, right? Isn't it from Funny Girl?"
She pulled back a little bit and her hand rested on his cheek. He knew and remembered some of the strangest things but it was usually in the sweetest ways. She nodded and licked her lips before she continued. "Yeah. She sang a different song, but it was a lot like that. I had been putting together pieces for a couple of weeks, but that was the one that finished the puzzle," she said. She allowed herself a deep breath and it wasn't even all that shaky.
Maybe she could do this—talk to him like he was her boyfriend. Her really real, wonderfully real boyfriend.
"So we had talked a couple of times. She helped me with my Lady Gaga costume and we eventually decided that we would take things really slow because it was strange."
He was watching her face carefully. Although she still looked sad and terrible and not exactly like herself, she didn't look like she was going to break that way again. He wondered if this would be a long story because Rachel was a story teller and she would stay composed until the end. She might show signs of weakness at the end. He had a feeling it didn't have a happy ending.
"So back to regionals, when she told me she was stepping down from Vocal Adrenaline to have a life and a family. And I invited her here instead. And she turned me down because she wants a baby, not me. She wants a brand new family instead."
"I know something about that—moms wanting brand new families."
"I know you do," she said. Her eyes were starting to tear up again and he rubbed at her back. She was still sitting in his lap. "You're so lucky, Finn. I hope your family works all this out because I have no doubt they will all be there for you and it will be wonderful. But I…well, I'm not going to have that. I won't ever have a mom the way I've wanted."
"But your dads…they're good, right?" He asked. He had missed all of that in the post-baby-isn't-yours-and-Jesse-is-a-Rachel-egging-asshole drama. He desperately hoped there wasn't something else he was missing, or maybe even something else she was missing. Missing a parent was a lot—he understood that too.
"They're the best," she confirmed. "But they're still guys. They can't sew and they can't teach me about makeup. They don't understand what happens when a girl's heart breaks or the joy I get when I hit a perfect high A. There are just some things only girls understand and I had hoped I would find my mom and have that someday. But I won't."
He nodded. When a girl's heart breaks. He had done that. Jesse had done that. Finn really hoped he wouldn't do it again because then who would understand her? She needed him, even if she couldn't admit it. And it felt really, really good that she needed him and she was counting on him. And just like that, he had learned a little—a lot—about what was going on in Rachel's mind.
"Well, I have a great mom. Maybe you can borrow her sometimes," he said before giving her a lopsided smile.
"Maybe you should ask her that first. I doubt I've made a good impression on her."
He sighed and gathered her up against his chest for a hug. "Well, what was it you said to me yesterday? I love you, so I'm sure she'll love you."
"Girls—women—don't work that way most of the time, but I hope you're right," she said, the words lost in his shirt as she held on to him tight.
He held her there for a long time, probably at least an hour, until long after his legs were asleep and his mind was wandering. Okay, maybe the mind wandering happened within about ten seconds after she stopped talking. Or before she finished talking. Whichever. Once it wasn't about important stuff (like what was making her cry) he felt free to relax a bit.
She finally pulled away with a sniffle. "Oh no! We just left your mom sitting back there!" She finally said, scrambling to move off his lap.
He reached his hands behind them to help ease himself off the ground and felt the painful rush to his long-sleeping limbs. "No, I sent her a text. We're good." He reached out to take her hand. "I have an idea, c'mon."
He was off and running immediately, her taking three steps in time with his every one as he hurried back to his truck in the parking lot.
"Do you know what time it is?" She asked in confusion.
"Not a clue," he admitted. "I saw your dad, too. He said to take care of you now and we would do dinner another time."
He had realized by then that she was walking willingly enough with him and she might die if they didn't slow down, so he had eased into a slower gait to let her catch her breath.
"Wait…so all of this happened while I was…"
He just nodded and then dropped her hand so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders.
"I told you, I've got your back," he said simply.
She sighed and tucked into his side like she did sometimes while they were holding hands. He dropped a kiss on top of her head as they strolled up to his truck. He let go of her long enough to unlock the door and pull it open so she could get inside. He didn't miss the curious glance she shot his way before she smoothed the skirt underneath her legs and climbed into the seat.
He didn't answer it either. It felt kind of good to have her be wondering what in hell he was doing for a change (instead of it being the other way around because if there was one thing her mouth ran slower than, it was her plans).
They were at the lake following only a couple stops and about a half-dozen (ignored/dodged) questions from Rachel later. He asked her to send her dads a message and let them know she was okay. He said to send them his phone number if they had any other questions. His phone had stayed still in his pocket so he assumed they were okay with this.
He was using the knowledge he had of how Rachel worked. Yes he was still learning and yes this might turn into an epic fail, but he wanted to do something that would help her just relax and maybe it would help him relax too.
Rachel thought she knew where they were going, but it wasn't that long before they passed the bowling alley and were leaving town completely. It was that notice that prompted questions two through four, but the only answer for her questions was an adorably smiling, slightly half-assed glance out of the corner of his eye. During the last question, he took her hand too. She figured that meant he wasn't going to answer her and she sighed. She reached out and turned up the radio, but they were already far enough away from the radio tower that the signal was scratchy. She twisted her wrist to flip the knob off and then shifted in her seat to look at Finn.
"Shouldn't you be wearing your seatbelt?" He asked, turning his head more fully to watch her. "I mean, like, if we hit something you would probably just go flying and…"
"Thank you," she said simply. Her soft voice totally interrupted everything he was thinking and the intensity in her eyes earned a full glance, then a full smile from him. She really meant it. And it made him feel like… well—it was better than anything he'd felt quarterbacking the football team, that was for sure. All he could really do was smile back, and his smile refused to die as she turned and settled back into her seat, only a little closer to him on the bench.
They eventually made it to the spot on the bank of the lake that he was heading, and he handed her the blanket from the small back seat of the truck while he grabbed the lunch that had been one of his (top secret) stops.
Rachel watched him in action and couldn't hide the smile. She still felt awful—honestly, all the stuff with Shelby wasn't going to be shoved back down that easily—but it was a totally confusing mix of awful and then that little warm feeling whenever she was with Finn and they were just being quiet. She wanted to just be with him and be quiet for a while so the warmth would take over. Is this what people were talking about when they mentioned feeling "butterflies" for someone?
As she watched him and felt his movements, even though he wasn't touching her. Butterflies—it must've been what all that was.
He took the blanket from her and spread it out not too far from the truck, then put the bags down on it. She was still standing kind of helplessly by the door, just watching him in action. The moments when she was still and he was moving, she kind of felt everything inside her rearranging, and it was a scary reordering for her. He was quickly becoming the most important thing in her life and she was more than a little nervous about it all. But at the same time, she totally wasn't.
When he reached through the open window of the truck to turn on the radio, he pressed her right up against it and she caught that clean smell of him—mostly laundry soap and usually a little bit of food. Right now, he smelled like the root beer he'd been drinking in the car since their last stop. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She wanted to remember this kind of thing forever.
Music started up from the speakers and she tilted her head. Her ears always honed in on music and classified it somehow. This time, the only real classification was its unfamiliarity.
"What is this?" She asked. It wasn't unpleasant, it just wasn't…it wasn't the kind of stuff he normally listened to. Like, she could hear the words over the drums for one thing. And it had a more intricate melody.
He sighed and stood up before he smiled slyly. "I'm not sure. Mrs. Schuester gave me a mixed cd after she helped me with that glee assignment that was all wrong. She's kind of creepy and stares at me still when I'm at work but…" he trailed off and his shoulder twitched in what she knew was a non-committal shrug. "This song kind of makes me think of you. So what would say to dancing with me? I mean…since we don't get to dance in glee until the fall?"
As we were driving, you turned your head around and looked right at me
You couldn't see the road and it was scaring me
How beautiful you are when you get crazy,
'Cause I have never felt so weak
She smiled and reached out to take her hand. "Dancing to soulful music by the lake?"
His cheeks were a little pink and he ducked his head, looking at where their hands were tangled together, even as he pulled and the motion tugged her closer to him. "Yeah, well… what can I say? Maybe you're turning me into a girl or something."
She smiled widely and looked up at him. "Well, I like you the way you are. But this is certainly romantic and I'm not going to turn it down." Her eyebrows dented as she looked up at him. "How did you know what to do to make me feel so much better?"
So maybe I would disappear without you
Maybe I would fall into the sky
But I'm in heaven orbiting around you and your pretty eyes
Your pretty eyes
He finally ducked down and gave her a soft kiss. "Hmm, two things," he said as he backed away from the kiss. "First, after my dad died, my mom used to bring me here a lot. She said it made her feel better. I remember being here with her and playing at the lake whenever she wasn't at work, and I think she even brought me before I can remember it."
She really, really wanted to kiss him. Of course he understood the feeling that someone was missing from your life. And even if it wasn't someone you had ever really known, he knew how much it mattered that they were missing. He had felt before the way she felt now. So she wanted to kiss him, but more than that, she wanted to hear him.
"And second? It was you so I figured music and dancing had better be involved somehow."
We took the highway, the curves along the ocean, on a Friday
The sun was falling down and you were shining
The rhythm of the waves was keeping time as you sang
Maybe I would disappear without you
Maybe I would fall into the sky
But I'm in heaven orbiting around you and your pretty eyes
Your pretty eyes
She tossed her head back and laughed, finally jumping up to wrap her arms around his neck as he stumbled against the awkward and sudden tackle. Once he fell backwards and she landed on top of him, she was in a much better position to kiss him. So she did.
Look at all the stars up in the sky, they look alive
I wonder what's on the other side,
It's full of light.
She pulled back with a smile and just put her hands on his face, watching his eyes shine as she sang along with the now-familiar last verse of the schmaltzy song.
Maybe I would disappear without you
Maybe I would fall into the sky
But it's heaven here just orbiting around you and your pretty eyes
Your pretty eyes
Maybe I would disappear without you
Maybe I would fall into the sky
But I'm in heaven orbiting around you and your pretty eyes
Your pretty eyes
She barely got the last words out before he was kissing her again and she knew—he was the other thing she never knew she wanted. But in this case, it wasn't once she'd lost it that she realized it. And now that she knew, she would hold onto it as tightly as she could because she was certain she might disappear without him.