She feels the blood rushing in her ears with every ragged breath he takes. She moves as swiftly as she can through the trees, bearing most of his weight as he leans heavily against her. He groans when her elbow jostles his side and she winces, looking down at the dark red, almost brown, spot growing on his t-shirt.
"Sorry," she murmurs, wondering just how much regret and apology can be put into that one word. She's sorry. She's so, so sorry for putting him through this, getting him hurt, dragging him into her messed up world.
He- Finn.
Finn Hudson is his name, the boy with the warm brown eyes and beautiful smile. The boy without a father, who lived with his mom and does the housework to help her. Finn is the name of the boy who saved her once, when she was still new to the town. They were still in middle school then, and it didn't take long before the other kids started calling her the school freak. They'd steal her lunch, push her down, call her names and taunt her just for a reaction. It was Finn who stepped in the middle of a fight and dragged her out, and saved her before she turned into something more than that weak little girl who never spoke.
Finn is the name of the boy who always seemed to catch her eye whenever he was around, whose earnest words and sincere empathy wove their way around her heart, who made her yearn for something more. A touch, a word, a life that was never meant for a- a creature like her. The kids at school call her a freak, but they have no idea.
Finn is the boy who was always different, who called her Rachel, only ever Rachel, with that beautiful smile that she never returned, who talked to her like she was- like she was human.
And Finn, Finn is the boy who caught her, who- who saw them, her and It.
It all plays in slow motion in her mind as she pulls him towards shelter.
It, walking towards her, large and imposing. Her back and the way it hit the bark of a tree, the way the friction had scratched through to her skin. She had been running away from It all her life, from that phantom monster out to get her, It. Eighteen years, and suddenly she was tired of running, tired of hiding, of being her. Eighteen years of running, and suddenly all she wanted was to give up.
And she was ready to, prepared to let It gut her, tear her heart wide open and take her blood. Rachel Berry was prepared to die. Her senses had dimmed, her weary heart welcoming death, until his voice broke through. She remembers her eyes snapping wide open at the sound of his voice, her gaze meeting his worried, terrified brown orbs as he froze in place for just a second before he started running towards her.
"Stop!" she had wanted to yell. "Turn around!"
But her mouth was frozen, glued shut the closer he got, and somewhere between It turning around and disappearing, the stake was lodged firmly in his spleen, and she couldn't breathe.
She hasn't been breathing for since.
His breathing is shallow in her ear, and when she finally reaches the run-down hut, she drops him on the verandah, ignoring his cries of pain as she straightens his body on the ground.
"Hold on," she whispers, sitting on her knees as she takes his hand. She has lived her whole life knowing not to trust anyone or anything. It will come and get her, and humans, well she's been taught that humans are only out to use her. Shelby taught her to never use her powers, but Shelby is gone now. Hiram taught her how to blend in, but she never really did.
And Finn, Finn was the only person who ever made her feel like she belonged, even for a little while, and she's struck by the acute need of him, by the uncanny feeling that a part of her is dying with every shallow breath he takes. In the back of her mind, she knows that this will change things, change him, but she can't let him die. So she pushes away her doubts, and for once in her life she thinks of more than her survival, she thinks of his.
Power thrums within her, vibrating through every pore in her body, and she focuses all of it onto her palms, watching as the color turns into a bluish glow. She holds her palms out over his wound, closing her eyes tights as she presses into it, ignoring his groans to focus on the energy transfer.
The air around them grows dense, a circle of light surrounds them, and when she feels the wound starts to close, her eyes open to watch as the color returns to his lips. He stays unconscious long enough for her nerves to return, and Rachel leans forward, pushing her palms on the tops of her thighs as she leans over him, letting out a slow breath when she feels his warm breath against her cheek.
His eyes open slowly, and there's a flash of gold that turns back into the same warm brown that stares intently into her gaze.
"Rachel," he murmurs, and he's Finn, indibutably Finn, one hand reaching up towards her, curling into a fist as his thumb wipes away the moisture under her eyes. "Are you okay?"
He's still too weak to be fully lucid, and she's certain he barely knows what's happening.
"I'm fine," she whispers, leaning into his touch before she even realizes it. "You need to rest."
He frowns, struggling to sit up, but she pushes him back down.
"That- that thing- what-"
"Rest," she tells him quietly. "And I'll explain everything when you wake up."
