He trails after the nurse quietly, four steps behind, staring at the short red bob of her hair and the way it stays perfectly still even as she moves. Lost Creek Care Center was such an odd place to be for a twenty-seven year old with no elderly connections to speak of. He had stood in front of the building for maybe five minutes, staring at those closed doors, wondering what he was doing there, wondering what he was going to say. It took five minutes, and the half hour drive over, to realize that he was never going to find the right words, never going to come up with that perfect greeting that would make this okay.

That was never his job after all. It had always been hers. She was the one with the words, with the understanding and the compassion. He was the one that stood to the side, hoping his best that her words would be enough for the both of them. But now she was gone, and he needs to learn to form his own. The nurse turns to him, smiles slightly, before she pushes open the door to room number 203. She steps in and he stops just below the doorway. From where he's standing he sees a pair of feet, wrapped under a blanket and immobile.

"How are you doing today?" he hears her ask.

"Oh same old. Birds are chirping, Carl's drunk and singing his heart out from two doors over and I can't leave the bed to go pee." Finn smiles as he listens to the familiar and dry tone of his voice.

"Good day then?"

"Always Sandra."

"You got a visitor."

"My girlfriend? You didn't spill to her about our morbid love affair did you?"

"That's a secret I'll take to my grave sweetie. No, it's a friend."

That's his cue. He steps in, shuffling his feet a little, awkwardly shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He walks over to the edge of the bed and ignores the look of surprise the passes over Sean Fretthold's face.

"Hey," he says, bringing a hand up for an awkward wave.

"Well, you're the last person I expected to see today," Sean comments, a smile breaking over his face.

"I'll leave you boys alone then," Sandra says, smiling at Finn before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

"Fretthold," he greets as he walks closer, nodding his head.

"Hudson," Sean answered, raising an eyebrow.

Xxx

"How long have you been back?"

"About a month."

"That's a while."

"Yeah."

"When are you leaving?"

"I don't know yet."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Xxx

He stares at the tops of his shoes in silence, in utter frustration, really. God, it's so hard to find the words. How did she do this? How did she make it look so easy to just start a conversation and keep things going? How did she make everything look alright all the time?

"I can feel you brooding."

"Sorry."

"Nah. You know me and my impeccable sense of awkwardness."

"I- Sean. I-"

"Spit it out man. I promise I won't lunge at you in a fit of rage."

He grins. Sean raises his eyebrows mockingly.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

"Yeah, well it's not like you knew anyway."

"Rachel would have known. She would have called and kept in touch and she would have known."

"C'mon man. Don't be like that. You were wrapped up in your own personal hell, it's nothing."

"I- how's she doing?"

"My mom? You know, typical chemo stuff. Losing weight, losing hair, upchucking like the second coming of that creepy kid from the Exorcist."

"I'm sorry."

"You said that already. Use more words Hudson."

"I-" he stops and laughs ruefully. "When she died, everybody kept coming up to me and telling me that they're sorry. And all I kept thinking was, for what? You didn't do anything. You didn't kill her. And now here I am, doing the same thing."

"Yeah, I've been there. Still there, really."

"I guess they were just sorry they couldn't come up with anything better to say. Maybe they were sorry 'cause nothing they could have said would have made any kind of difference to me."

"Like right now?"

"Yeah. Like right now."

"Well I'm sorry too, for whatever it's worth."

"How are you?"

"Incapacitated."

"Seriously."

"I don't know man. It's weird looking out the window and seeing a different scenery than the one I've been seeing for the past eleven years of my life. But you know, it's not like my mom can do this anymore, she can barely get out of bed these days. My aunt comes around every day to fill me in. And hey, the nurses here are hot. Have you seen Sandra? I mean, we gotta learn to deal, right?"

Xxx

"How are you?" Sean asks, turning his head to the side to look at him.

"I-" he looks back, struggling for words. "I don't know."

Xxx

"I- She was always so organized, you know? I mean, she made everything look easy. I always took that for granted. Like-like with you. I mean we've been keeping in touch this whole time man, but then now that she's gone I realize that she's the one that's been doing all the work. The calling, the emailing, forcing people to come over for dinners, forcing me to go out with the others. I mean, she did everything. I was just there. And now, now that she's gone I- I'm a mess."

"Don't be a dumbass." He snaps up his head and Sean's grinning at him.

"You'll figure it out."

Xxx

He doesn't think he will though, figure it out. He needs her. He needs her because his life just doesn't work without her in it. It won't run properly, it won't be his life anymore, not without Rachel.

He needs her.

Xxx

"You're just going to sit there and not say anything?" she yells as she stands in front of him, arms folded across her chest.

"What do you want me to say?" he asks, gritting his teeth.

"Anything! God anything!" She kneels down on the floor in front of him, grabbing his hands. "We haven't seen each other in days, Finn. I don't want to fight with you."

"I'm not fighting with you."

"No, you're just sitting there, brooding and angry and silent and angry!" she exclaims as she leans back against the couch, pulling her legs up in front of her.

"What do you want me to say, Rachel?" he yells furiously as he stands up in frustration. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I can't go to your show. I'm sorry I have to work. I'm sorry I don't have time to run lines with you because I'm up to my neck with paperwork that needs to get done by tomorrow! So I'm sorry I'm not like Damien, your hunky new co-star or whatever the heck he is, who always has time for you, who's willing to stay up late for you, willing to do whatever for you!"

"I didn't mean it like that!" she exclaims, but there's guilt in her voice, and he knows her too well.

"Well then how did you mean it? What do you mean when you say Damien always has time for me Finn, Damien's staying back to help me Finn, because you're too busy! Damien's running my lies with me. Damien's walking me home tomorrow because you can't Finn. Damien, Damien, Damien! God, even his name is stupid!"

"What are you, five?"

"No. I'm twenty three. I just got a job that I hate because we need to pay the bills. My boss is riding my ass hard because she's a raging bitch and my girlfriend won't stop talking about another guy!"

She springs up onto her feet immediately and she's running dramatically towards him, running for all six feet away, like this is a movie and this is the climax, and she's crying. He would have found this amusing, if she isn't so God-damn frustrating.

"I miss you, okay? I miss you. And you know me, you know how I get. I'm crazy and I'm selfish and I hate that you're not around and I miss you! I was just- I'm sorry." She tugs against his arm, but he pulls away.

"I did it on purpose, I wanted to make you jealous. I wanted to make you stay here, with me. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I don't care about Damien. Hey c'mon."

She stands on her tip toes and grabs his face to pull it down, forcing him to look her in the eyes. She's crying, she's upset.

"I love you," she whispers furiously, "Come on, I'm sorry." He leans his forehead against hers and takes a deep breath, trying to control his frustration.

"Who's the five year old now?" he whispers as he brings up his hands to cup her face and pull it up.

"Me," she breathes. "I acted like a child. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad. I mean, yeah I am, I-" he laughs softly at the chastened look on her face as he leans in closer. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

"But you love me anyway," she replies, grinning.

"Yeah, I'm still wondering why- ow!" He laughs as she slaps his chest hard. He leans in to kiss her, slightly startled when she throws her arms around his neck and pulls him in closer.

"I miss you too," he whispers back, his words ghosting over her lips, against her smile.

Xxx

"Maybe," she starts tactfully, an hour later as she lies on top of him, propping her elbows up against his bare chest. "Maybe you can look for another job." He groans and flips them over.

"Not again, Rachel," he mumbles as he leans down to kiss her, hoping to shut her up.

"But you-"

"We need to pay the bills," he murmurs against the nape of her neck as he nuzzles his nose into her hair.

"I know but-"

"And this job pays the bills."

"But you hate it-"

"It doesn't matter."

"Finn of course it does. This is your-" He swoops down to catch her lips again, lingering longer this time when she opens her mouth. He pulls away and smirks at the look on her face.

"If you think this is going to shut me up," she starts once she's found her bearings. "You're sadly mistaken."

"Well a guy can dream can't he?" he jokes as she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him down.

"This isn't over," she whispers against his lips.

"I know. Will you ever stop trying to run my life?"

"I only do it 'cause you don't know what's good for you. I would never try to tell you what to do if I didn't know that you're thinking the exact same thing as I am, that you can do so much better than this ," she answers as she pushes his head back, her expression insulted. He grins and leans back down, grabbing her waist and pulling it tighter against his.

"Keep telling yourself that," he murmurs.

Xxx

He can't do this.

Oh God. Oh God he can't do this.

How is he supposed to do this?

His eyes are wide in the dark, and he feels the panic settling into the pit of his stomach as he imagines tomorrow, a week from now, a month. Years and years and years without her.

He'll screw it up. He's going to screw his life up and he's going to fail. He's going to fail her.

"We gotta learn to deal, right?"

But how? How does he deal?

He can't do this.

Xxx

He pulls up into William McKinley High and it's funny to be here, to park at the exact same spot he used to more than ten years ago. He still sees her running around sometimes, spinning circles around his mind, and today she's coming out at full force, because she's sitting next to him, in his mom's old car and she's wearing that blue polka-dotted sundress he loved, chattering merrily as she pulls up her white knee highs.

"Today is going to be a good day Finn," she said merrily. "Because we're together and we'll be singing together at Glee and everybody will see that we're perfect for one another and my dream of becoming one half of the school's power couple will finally come true."

"What if it doesn't?" he had asked playfully. She had looked at him, a little shocked and a little stumped, before her face broke into a winning smile.

"Well then we'll know the truth, as long as we know it, it's okay I guess."

He sighs as he kills the engine and steps out of the car. He follows her into the school entrance as she keeps talking happily, one arm wrapped around a younger version of himself. This just might be another long trip down memory lane.

He stops in front of the office and hesitates for a second before knocking on the door.

"Come in." He does, and Mr Schue's still talking to the girl sitting in front of him. His teacher looks up, sees him, and does a double take.

"We'll talk about the set-list later Sara. Why don't you and the others work out the kinks and we'll revise it at practice tomorrow."

"Okay Mr Schuster." She gets up and turns around and he's startled to see her.

"Sara? Hey, it's me, Finn."

"I know who you are Finn," she says, smiling as she shakes his hand and it feels weird to see that the girl who used to jump on his back and refused to let go until he gave her a piggyback ride, was all grown up.

"Wow you're a-"

"Senior," she finishes. "Don't look so surprised that I'm grown up. It happens to the best of us."

"It's good to see you," he says, surprising himself to find that he actually means it.

"Yeah, you too. I'll see you around Finn."

He turns to look at Mr Schue in surprise and receives an amused smile in return.

"She grew up!"

"You say that like it's impossible."

"No I know- just. Wow. The last time I saw her, she was what? Twelve? It's weird."

"Yeah. Nothing like her brother either. The girl has a perfect attendance record, no blemish to speak of."

"You mean she didn't get caught stealing an ATM?" he jokes, smiling. Mr Schue grins and he steps inside.

"You look better," Mr Schue comments. He shrugs. He's not so sure that he is, but at least he looks it.

"What can I do for you?" his teacher asks him and he hesitates again as he looks at the band around his pinkie finger. He steels himself.

"Can I talk to you Mr Schue?"

xxx

He sits on the edge of the stage, his legs dangling over the side. She's everywhere in the auditorium. She's in the seat in front of him, busily criticizing the way Santana Lopez's voice broke on the last note. She's backstage, taking inventory and making sure all their props are in working order. They're slow dancing in the middle of the stage, him flustered and stepping on her toes and her giggling and kissing his cheek, telling him shyly that she'd always wanted to do that. He forces his mind to stop conjuring her when he starts picturing a rug and throw pillows and airplane cups.

"Have you heard from Puck?" Mr Schue asks, sitting next to him. He shakes his head.

"Last postcard he sent me was from Nevada. He was working on construction, living in a trailer. That was six months ago. You know he never leaves a return address."

"So he doesn't know about-"

"I don't think he does."

"I see."

More awkward silence as they sit together. Now that he's here, he really doesn't know how to start.

"How's Jamie? Does he miss his car?"

"Nah," Mr Schue answers, grinning. "He did ask about you though. He thinks you're 'awesome'."

"He does?"

"He said your body could be a highway because it's so long." He laughs a little at that and Mr Schue smiles. "He sprained his hand yesterday jumping over the living room couch. His mom is furious."

"I'll bet," he answers, remembering all the times his mom had taken him to the hospital when he was a kid, trying to fix one broken part after another.

"He's a handful, but he's a great kid."

"What did you mean by that?" he asks suddenly, turning his head to the left to look at his old teacher. Mr Schue stares back in confusion.

"By what?"

"When you told me that I was your first great kid. What did you mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

"Come on Mr Schue," he says, rolling his eyes. "What did you mean?"

Mr Schue stares at him, looks at him intently, until he starts to feel uncomfortable and looks away.

"You were a good kid."

"I was a dumb kid," he corrected.

"Nah. You were- you were naive. But you were a good kid. You had a good heart Finn. You still have it."

"That's it? I was a great kid 'cause I had a good heart?"

"You brought Glee club back together."

"Rachel was the one holding on to the club."

"Yes and you were the one that united them. You made me realize why I should stay. And that Finn, that moment changed my whole life."

"That didn't make me great," he answers in frustration. How did being an unwitting catalyst in someone else's life make him great? What kind of an answer is that Mr Schue?

"You see the good in people, Finn. Do you know how rare that is? How hard it is to see the good in someone when no one else does?"

"I was a punk."

"You were confused. There's a difference."

"I was stupid. I was afraid of what people thought of me so I did things to make me look cool, even if I didn't like it. My girlfriend thought I was a dumbass that would fall for her hot tub lie and I was. My bestfriend screwed me over without blinking an eye because he knew I was too stupid to realize anything. I didn't stand up for the people I should have stood up for because I was chicken shit. These don't sound like great things to me, Mr Schue."

"You forgave them. You did better than forgive them, you took them back. I could never do that. And you pulled through Finn, sometimes two steps too late, but you do. And- and look at Rachel. You saw the good in her, which nobody else could see. You saw the good things she didn't even see herself."

"People were idiots. She was amazing. She was great."

"She was. She was special. And she always knew that, but you made her believe it."

"I-"

"You don't look at the bad things first. You see the good right off the bat. It's not easy to be like that. And it's not easy to keep it up either. You know, Kurt told me about the boy. The boy who- well,"

"Killed her?"

"Yes. He told me what you said. He couldn't believe it, you know, when you said you didn't blame him."

"He didn't know what he was doing."

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it does! He freaked, he probably needed the money anyway. I mean-"

"He still did it."

"He's a child Mr Schue. He's a kid," he says, frustrated, and the way Mr Schue is looking at him like that's exactly what he expected is kind of pissing him off. Mr Schue puts a hand on his shoulder, and he doesn't flinch this time.

"I used to think that I saw myself in you," his teacher says slowly. "I used to think that you were like me. I think that was why you were always my favourite student. But you're not, Finn. You're better than me, and sometimes I wish I could be more like you."

He looks at his teacher, looking for a sign that Mr Schue's lying, but the older man's looking at him earnestly and he still doesn't get it. He doesn't understand what Mr Schue's trying to say. He thinks the old man's a little full of bullshit on this, but he keeps quiet.

Xxx

"I miss her," he blurts out. "I mean, I know everyone know this. I miss her. I miss the way she'll wake me up in the morning and force me to eat my breakfast even when I'm late. I miss hearing her voice all the way from the kitchen, singing at the top of her lungs when she's cooking pancakes. It's always pancakes, or cereal. Because we don't have a waffle maker, and I made her promise not to try anything else when I'm not awake. And the way she's always prepared, you know? She's always ready to go, ready to seize the day or whatever. And even when she's not, I miss that. I miss the days when I wake up and she's still in bed, upset over some audition or just feeling like crap. I miss the days when all she wants to do is cry because- because life is a pain in the ass and we're really all that we've got.

"I just- I miss every day. Just normal things, like the way her laughter sounds and the way she used to cry at Love Story or The Notebook or a bunch of other equally sappy movies that she forced me to watch. Or the way she yells and screams and throws tantrums worthy of a six year old and gets embarrassed about them later. And I miss coming home to her, Mr Schue. I miss knowing that she's going to be there when I get back, and that- and that she's always going to be there."

He doesn't even realize that he's been crying until Mr Schue grips his shoulder again and he feels the wet trail down his cheeks. He shakes his head. He thought the crying period was over. He turns to look at his teacher, his expression earnest and pleading.

"How do I do this Mr Schue? How do I- how do I- live?"

"Finn-"

"She's been in my life since I was fifteen. That's twelve years of my life, Mr Schue. And it's the years that matter, because before that nothing really mattered. Before her, I didn't know- no I didn't even care, didn't even think of anything past today or this minute or this moment in my life. And then she came, and she was so amazing, and beautiful and- and she told me I could do anything and- and she made things matter. It's like, I feel like every decision I've ever made, every road I've taken, it always came back to her in one way or another. She made me care, Mr Schue. She made me care about what happens to me, made me want to be better and be someone better.

"And it's always been us, you know? Since I was fifteen years old, it was always the two of us and everything else. We could do whatever, face whatever, because we had each other. But now I don't. Now I don't have her and I'm alone and I've never been alone, Mr Schue. Not since I was fifteen years old and this girl with weird animal sweaters and knee socks and trucks full of confidence came up to me and talked my ear off while we're waiting in line for something I can't even remember and scared me half to death. I've never been alone.

"So how do I do this, Mr Schue? Can you tell me, can you please help me, because I am terrified and I'm scared and I don't want to screw it up, I don't want to throw my life away, not when she'd done so much to make it worth something."

He stops talking, frustrated, because there's more. There's so much more to say, but he can't put them into words and he's doing a shitty job of saying anything and he's probably confusing the hell out of Mr Schue. She would have known what he meant. She always knew what he meant. He misses her so much right now, he thinks his heart just might never recover from it.

"You don't need the words Finn. I have enough for the both of us," she'd say when he was trying so hard to tell her how he feels because he feels too much, he feels more than the words he know can explain. "I know, baby," she'd say and she'd kiss him and she'd smile and she'd say the words, the exact words that he meant but couldn't piece together.

"Finn," Mr Schue says and he snaps back into the present again. The older man sighs and runs a hand through his hair and he figures it's hard for Mr Schue to find the words too. She would have found the right ones for the both of them.

"I don't know, buddy. It's life, Finn. It's terrifying and it's scary and when you're not looking, it pulls the rug out from other you and you're lying on your back on the ground. But- I know this is different. It isn't the same, but when Terri and I, when we got divorced, I was a mess. I mean like you, I was with her since we were in high school, you know? We had this routine together, this perfect system. And yeah she can be a little-"

"Unstable?" he supplies when his teacher stops. Mr Schue smiles.

"I was about to say clinically insane, but that works. But we had a life together. And it was all I ever knew and when that was gone, I didn't know what to do with myself. I was alone and there was no one else and I didn't know where my life was going. I didn't know what was going to happen. But one day I wake up, months later, and I realize that this is it, you know? This is how I live my life. It doesn't stop moving because we're terrified Finn. Life happens, every day. And we just- we just live."

"But how do I live it right?" he asks in frustration because that's what he's afraid of, that's what he wants to know.

"I can't give you an answer for that. I'm still figuring it out myself. Your questions have gotten harder since high school," Mr Schue jokes feebly and he cracks a smile.

"I just- I don't want to disappoint her."

"I don't think you ever could Finn. She used to walk around looking at you like you were the greatest thing on earth. I'd chalk it down to teenage dramatics and Rachel's sense of exaggeration, but the last time I saw her, she still had that look on her face."

"I-"

"I think all she would have wanted was for you to do your best. And you'll do good Finn."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because it's you."

Xxx

He steps into the store purposefully as he makes his way to the counter. The teenager behind it smiles at him and he makes out the tongue piercing and the big hole in his left ear and winces.

"How can I help you?"

"You customize leather, right?"

"Totally. It's called House of Leather dude."

"Great. I need a necklace."

Xxx

He's been waiting at the door for five minutes. He rings the doorbell again because he sees the car parked in the driveway, and he knows that they're home. He hears shuffling from the other side of the door and Leroy Berry finally throws it open.

"Finn," he says in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighbourhood. I hope you don't mind."

"No, no come on in."

"Is Hiram home?" he asks as he closes the door behind him.

"No. No he went out."

"Oh. What were you doing?"

"I was- well, come on."

He follows his father in law into the living room and stops short when he sees her on the big screen, five years old, in a red tutu.

"Tiny Tots Pageant?" he asks knowingly. Leroy chuckles half-heartedly as he sits on the couch and motions for him to come over.

"Yeah, she was five. Summer-"

"Ninety-nine. I know. She made me watch this like, twenty times." Leroy presses play and he sees Rachel on stage, clumsily attempting a pirouette, that huge smile ever present on her face.

"She was so much better than the first place winner," Leroy mutters gruffly as she made her big finish and bowed dramatically. He smiles, knowing that the next scene would be her running down the stage straight towards the camera, demanding her dad to replay the performance.

"Can I get a copy of this?" he asks. "Actually, can I have a copy of all of them?"

Leroy looks at him, his face almost registering surprise before he gives a slight nod.

"Of course."

"Thanks."

They watch silently for the next ten minutes as she gets her runner up sash and the disappointed look that flashes over her face before it gave way to a determined beam. "Next year, I'll sing!" she tells Hiram confidently as her daddy tugs playfully at her second place hamper. He wonders how she could be so resilient at such a young age. He wonders how her perseverance just grew with every disappointment.

"What are you doing here Finn?" Leroy asks, still staring at the screen.

"I'm going back. To New York."

"When?"

"This Saturday. Got my ticket and everything."

"Good for you," Leroy says, and he wonders if that hint of sarcasm was really there. He stares at the older man out of the corner of his eye and contemplates his words.

"She'd hate this, you know? Us mourning like this. I mean, she'd love it at first, all the attention she's getting. But- but I don't think she'd want this." He says the words carefully, slowly, because he knows if this was a month ago and if someone was telling him this, he would have lashed out in an instant. Leroy says nothing, his grip on the remote control tightening considerably.

"I know," her dad finally says, surprising him. Leroy sighs and lets go of the remote to run a hand down his face. "She'd hate this and she'd be so disappointed in me. She'd probably tell me to think of my blood pressure or to write things down. It's just not that easy though, is it?"

"No. It isn't."

"I'm still trying Finn. I've, we've been seeing a psychiatrist. She told us to make room for a grieving period, every day. She calls it the crying room. One hour, she says, one hour in every twenty-four hours, just lock yourself up in that crying room and let it rip."

"Does it work?" he asks curiously.

"It did, most of the time. Until today." Leroy sighs again and Finn straightens up in his chair.

"What happened?"

"I snapped. We fought. I blamed him." The last sentence came out as a whisper.

"I- I'm sure he knows you didn't mean it."

"Sometimes I do mean it, that's the problem. Sometimes I think, if he didn't make that decision, if he didn't tell the doctor to pull the plug, than she might still be here. Maybe if there was just a little more time, then she would wake up."

"Leroy," Finn starts helplessly, at a loss for words. Leroy Berry was staring at a spot on the carpet, his voice and body shaking and he doesn't know what to do. "She was- the doctor told me she was brain dead. There was nothing else that we could do."

"I know. I know. I just- I can't help it."

"He was the only one brave enough. He did what we couldn't have. He freed her, Leroy. She would have suffered, she would have been stuck if we hadn't."

"I know, Finn. I just- it's hard to remember sometimes."

"Where did he go?" he asks softly. Leroy shakes his head, worried.

"He just walked out. I- I don't-" He sees the panic that passes over Leroy's face and knows from experience, that panic attacks only make things worse.

"He'll come back," Finn assures him. "I know he will." He receives a weak smile in return.

"Did you come to say goodbye?"

"I- yeah. I guess. But Hiram's not here so I think I'll come back later."

"Yes. He would want to see you before you leave."

He stays for another hour, watches two more videos of her childhood, still blown away every time he sees her ten year old self belting out Celine Dion like a pro. He used to dream of a little girl that looks like her. He used to think that their daughter would look exactly like that, maybe a little taller, her eyes a different shade of brown. He never told her that. He's kind of glad he didn't, that he had kept that dream to himself. It feels less like a loss that way, more like wishful thinking. Leroy walks him to the door, a box of her DVDs in his arms.

"How are you doing Finn?" Leroy asks as he steps out onto the porch. Finn looks at him, and for the first time in a while, he thinks he has the right words.

"I think I'm getting there."

Xxx

He waits by the door and smiles when he hears the sound of her footsteps, accompanied by the voice he'd recognize anywhere. He listens as she pushes the key into the lock, humming loudly to herself, and before she could turn the knob, pulls the door open.

"C'mon, let's go," he says casually as he grabs her arm, ignoring her surprised squeal.

"Finn you scared me! What are you doing?" she asks as he locks the door behind him and drags her towards the stairs. "Finn Hudson!" she exclaims when he continues to ignore her.

"We're celebrating."

"Celebrating what?"

"My new job."

"Your what?" She stops walking and puts all her strength into being a deadweight. "Explain."

He stops and turns to face her, his face breaking into a grin.

"I handed in my two weeks' notice. You're looking at the new Recruit Trainer for Johnson & Brown."

"And is this what you want?" she asks nonchalantly, trying to hide the smile playing on her lips.

"Baby, you know this is what I want. I.T. was just never my thing."

She squeals and jumps up into him and he staggers back against the wall as he catches her and laughs.

"I told you you could do it Finn! What did I tell you?" she mumbles excitedly into his neck.

"You told me I could do it," he repeats, still laughing. She pulls back and smiles at him, pressing her forehead against his.

"I'm so proud of you." She whispers, pride radiating out of every word.

"I love you."

Xxx

He stares at her ring, holding it up against the sunlight.

"What do you think?" he asks the picture on his nightstand. "You think it's time?"

He looks down at her beaming face and grins.

"I know you do."

Looping the leather through her ring, he clasps the necklace over his neck and slips it under his shirt. He feels the cool metal rest just over his chest, right above his heart.

He's ready.