A/N: Hey everyone! So it's Saturday and you all know what this means: we are finally updating our story! Here's the tenth chapter (Ten already?!) of Just Give Me A Reason.

As usual, we would like to thank everyone who has reviewed. Unfortunately, we have received fewer reviews than usual, but we do hope that you still like it. Don't be afraid to tell us if there are things that you are not fond of, just because the next chapters are already written doesn't mean that we cannot change anything. And remember that you can always send us feedback on our twitter account: ItsfinchelLove (me) and DreamMeCory (the other author). It is a pleasure for us to be able to read your comments.

As you may have noticed, we've decided to go with what you wanted and to write our dialogues using quotation marks instead of dashes. Once again, don't be afraid to tell us if there is anything, and I really mean it, that bothers you with our writing skills. There is always room for improvement, after all.

This chapter's title comes from a song that I personally really love. It is called Fix You, and I'm pretty sure that you all know whom it is from. I'll tell you anyway: Coldplay. The lyrics are just so beautiful.

Disclaimer: We do not own Glee or anything related to it, and the song used in this chapter isn't by us.

Enjoy!

FIX YOU

When you try your best but you don't succeed

When you get what you want but not what you need

When you feel so tired but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse

When the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?

A week later, the situation still seemed surreal to Rachel. Whenever she would wake up, she would always go through a few minutes where she didn't know who she was, or even what was happening to her. Embraced in ignorance, her name was unknown, her surrounding spectacular, and her life more than perfect. One morning, she could be a teacher in Paris dating a tall Italian guy while, the next day, she could be living the life of a chef in Brazil's most famous restaurant. She was Claire, Laurie or Edith: all as different as the others. She could be a lesbian, straight, a transsexual, a mom, a daughter, an aunt, a sister, a friend: she could be anyone, but her. Then, just when she would start to actually believe her dreams, Finn's arms would bring her back to reality and she would remember that no, her life was far from being wonderful. A wave of nausea would take over her and she would find herself on her knees in the bathroom. Holding her hair back, she would wish that she were still Jane, the girl in San Tropez.

The image reflecting in the mirror was miles away from her old self. She had lost a lot of weight and was now just the shadow of herself. After only a week of chemotherapy, her beautiful brown locks were already starting to fall off and her skin was as pale as a ghost's. She wouldn't dress up anymore or even put on make up. What was the point of looking good after all? She was taking two to three showers a day because of all the vomiting and, when she wasn't cold and wrapped in four blankets, she was on the couch in only her panties and bra because of the heat. Her mood was down and, while she was thankful for Finn, she knew that he couldn't completely understand what was happening to her. She loved him more than life itself so she was trying her hardest to stay strong in order for him to stop constantly worrying about her. She knew that all this wasn't fair on him and that he deserved better, but, at the same time, she also knew that the only way for her to get through everything was to have him by her side. Thus, she made sure to thank him every single day and not to fall into the pattern of a sick wife: a wife, with or without cancer, is the same freaking thing.

The day after they had gotten the news, she had immediately called Sophie –her manager- to announce her the news. As Rachel had expected, her agent hadn't believed her at first and had even repeated many times that this wasn't a joke to make. After three or four minutes, she had finally accepted the truth and had come to the conclusion that her health was more important than a play. "Do not worry about anything, Rach. I'll call your director and tell him that he'll have to find a new lead. And if he's not happy about it, I'll just hand him your doctor's phone number. It should shut him up pretty fast. Now, I have to hang up 'cause I want you to go lie down right away," she had said, reassuring her at the same time that she would stop by during the day to make sure that everything was fine. She hated letting people down, but it seemed like the only bearable option at the moment. Her doctor had precisely told her that she couldn't work anymore. Plus, although she knew that her play needed her reputation and worldwide career, she couldn't bring herself to do anything that wasn't related to lying and/or sleeping.

For the last week, Rachel had received many visitors, all of them bringing more Get Well and Stay Strong gifts than the previous ones. Finn had eventually called his mom –who had then called everyone in Lima- to inform her of his wife's health, while Rachel had called Santana, sobbing into the phone. Fifteen minutes later, her best friend had been pulling over and climbing the stairs faster than a mama bear trying to protect her child. She had flung open the door and ran up to Rachel, taking her into her arms at the same time. She had stayed by her friend's side for the evening, only leaving to greet Finn who had been coming back from an important meeting with his coach. Obviously, Rachel had been far too broken and sad to confess what was happening, so it had been Finn who had -after making sure that Santana was comfortably sitting on a chair in the dining room- had to explain that what the results had shown hadn't been pretty at all. Even though she had known that Rachel had a cardiac tumor, she had been sure that it was benign, seeing as nor Finn, nor Rachel had called her after the surgery.

She had yelled, of course. She had cried, too, and hadn't stopped saying that the doctors must have had interchanged Rachel's biopsy with someone else's. "No-oo! I'm gonna go over there and prove to you that all this is just a big mistake! I-I'm gonna go all Lima heights on God's ass, I swear! This can-cannot be happening! Why Rachel? Why her?" Finn had tried his very best to calm her down and to comfort her, just like he had done with Rachel a few days prior. He had said over and over that it wasn't a mistake and that just because Rachel was sick didn't mean that she wasn't going to survive the ride. As far as he was concerned, she wasn't dead yet. She was still his wife and there were many things that he was counting on doing and experiencing with her. Yes, the Mount Everest had doubled its height, but it was still a tolerable climb for anyone that had the proper equipment and surrounding.

When Santana had finally regained her composure, he had looked at her in the eyes and told her one simple thing that changed her way of seeing things, "Rachel's path hasn't crossed the cancer's; it's the cancer's that has crossed Rachel's. This fight is just like any other that she has to win every day." Thanking him and putting on a shy smile, she had stood up before reentering the living room. There, the Latino had found her best friend peacefully sitting on the couch, her eyes close as if she was sleeping. Admiring her from where she had been standing, it had been then that she had started to figure out what Finn had really meant with his weird metaphor. Rachel was the strongest and most courageous woman that she had ever met. She couldn't even recall a time where her petite friend hadn't acted as if she was seven feet tall instead of only a little bit over five feet.

Suddenly, a weird memory had flashed into her mind and made her smile brighter than usual. Two years ago, Rachel had just learned that she was nominated for another Tony awards and had decided that it was finally time to celebrate her career. Since Finn had been out of town for a game, she invited Santana, Quinn and Kurt for a girls –and gay- night out. She had worked so hard the last eight months that, on that special night, she wanted to get drunk and was planning on achieving her goal. Around three hours later, when they were all on the dance floor, except for Rachel who was talking to Finn's voicemail, a weird guy, who must have had started to feel wasted long before then, approached her and brusquely placed his hand on her ass. She quickly turned around and, as nicely as her drunken state allowed her, asked him what the heck he was doing. He replied that God gave him all the rights to innocently flirt with a woman that, beside from being famous all over the world, was hotter than the devil itself. After six or seven minutes and the worse pick up lines that Rachel had ever heard, when he still hadn't given up and walked away, she casually threw her pink martini on his white shirt and said "Oops, I guess I just got distracted when I fell from heaven" before making an exit worthy of Rachel Barbra Berry. During her next interview on TV, when Ellen Degeneres asked her what had happened back then, she stuck to the simplest answer someone had ever seen in that kind of case: "I just thought pink was his color. Too bad he didn't seem to think the same."

When Santana had left her daydream, she had been sure of one thing: Rachel was going to make it. The world needed her; they all required the light emanating from that star, the comfort propelled by that voice and, first and foremost, the laughter and happiness provided by that warrior. Quickly, she had wiped off a tear that had slowly and secretly started to make its way down her cheek. Crying was for the weak and she couldn't let Rachel see how vulnerable she truly was. Instead, she had made her way toward her best friend, planted a soft kiss on her sleepy head and, deciding that she needed all the rest that she could get, exited the penthouse. Ten minutes later, a ringing phone had startled Finn who had been starting to drift off. He had reluctantly answered it and had smiled when he had recognized Santana's voice. She had called to remind him that he was to make sure that Rachel didn't needed anything and that now that he was back home, he simply couldn't leave again. Not now, not ever. He had assured her that he wasn't planning on acting like a coward once again: if Rachel could be strong, why couldn't he?

After that day, everyone had been notified of Rachel's current health problems. Everyone, but the press of course. That was yet to come and there was nothing that Rachel was dreading more. She knew that her fans would be behind her through all this and that they would all send her love, hugs, and kisses, but she was also aware of the haters. Surprisingly, a part of her already knew what they were going to say, "She deserves it. Her voice has made our lives hell for so long, her time has come to suffer;" "I'm sure that it's just another publicity stunt!" "Cancer? Poor little girl! People in Africa don't even have enough money to pay a doctor and she's gonna complain that she's losing her beautiful thousand worth hair?"

Her doctor's indications were still clear in her head and she was certain that worrying about shitty people's opinion wasn't part of the very few authorized activities. "Let's see: walk, sleep, lie down, eat. Nope. Not on the list." Using this as an excuse, she kept postponing the fatal date and, therefore, was driving her agent crazy. Indeed, it had arrived to the press' ears that Rachel wasn't doing as well as before. Some magazines were saying that her separation from her husband had led her to a severe depression, while others were speculating and even affirming that she was suffering from anorexia, a rumor based on the fact that she had admitted years ago having tried throwing up once back in High School. Yet, seeing as her friends and family had been nice enough not to talk to any media, they had no proof whatsoever of what they were writing about and people were slowly, but surely starting to believe that she was just tired of always being compared to the most beautiful women of the industry. Plus, however hard she tried to fight it, she sure as hell was going to have to confess everything one day. She couldn't keep pushing off the inevitable.

Today marked the two weeks anniversary of the worst day of her life –if you could call that an anniversary. For the last week or so, she had been planning the memoir of her short life, careful not to let Finn find out about it. It was short video messages that she wanted to give him if and when she would be on the verge of dying. She wanted him to know that there was nothing in the world that she wanted more than a family with him. She needed him to know that she now understood how selfish it had been of her to prevent him from his happy ending, but that, just like he had asked her to, she had finally found the strength in her heart to forgive herself. She loved him more than anything, and she knew that it was completely mutual. Nevertheless, her possible death shouldn't forbid him from meeting someone new that could give him what he wanted the most. She wanted him to know that he had the right to build a completely new life after her, if he wanted to; she was always going to be watching over him and his children and would make sure that he was happy. She would love his new girlfriend, or even wife, and would help her win his heart. He had to let her go, and she didn't want to say farewell to the love of her life without he knowing that it was okay for him to get up again.

She was in the middle of recording the fifth video when she heard Quinn walk into the penthouse. Quickly, she hid the camera and threw herself under the covers so that her friend wouldn't realize that she had been doing anything else than sleeping. She noticed some tears that had started to run wild so she brushed them off, hoping that her visitor wouldn't acknowledge her red eyes. Her steps were becoming closer and closer and she knew that it was only a matter of seconds before she would be standing in front of her. She thought about the last time that she had come over with Puck and, after recalling the more than awkward conversation that she had had with Quinn, she chose to close her eyes and fake being asleep.

It was not that she didn't want to see her, far from that. She wanted more than anything to be able to laugh with Quinn as they used to before or even to reprimand Puck for his crude choice of words. She wanted to be with her friends to forget that she was sick, but it was like she was asking for a miracle that simply could not happen. Last time, Puck had spent the whole time talking with Finn about football without cursing even once when she perfectly knew that, usually, he would have said fuck and shit just to annoy the hell out of her. On Quinn's hand, Rachel could detect guilt coming from her close friend. Whenever she would start talking about Quinn's plan to get pregnant and start a family with Puck, a hand would quickly shut her up, "I'm not here to talk about myself, Rach. Let's talk about you. How are you doing?"

But, you see, that was the exact problem and the reason why she was now faking being asleep. She was tired of talking about herself. How are my friends doing? What's happening outside of my house? That was what she was craving. Every single day, she was alone or with Finn and, although it was great to have her husband back, Rachel felt as if she was missing so much stuff. All the news, all the moments making up memories, all the things that she could no longer be a part of. She knew what was happening with her and how she was feeling; she now needed to be informed of her friends' lives.

When the door softly cracked open, she turned around so that her back was facing the visitor. She may have been a good actress, but she knew that Quinn would have noticed something weird if she had seen her face. Instead, she just heard the faint sound of the door closing as delicately as it had been open and the small steps slowly retreating toward the kitchen. She then recognized Quinn's voice and what she thought was her pronouncing her name. Feeling kind of tired, she gradually got up and walked toward the door. She grabbed the handle and carefully turned it. She sat against the wall and listened to their conversation.

"How is she doing, Finn?" She heard Quinn ask. "Oh well you know, she's still dealing with the news," her husband replied. "She's so strong, though, like I don't know how she does it. She's my rock and I try to be hers, but it's so goddamn hard! I cannot help but be afraid that she'll leave me. I-I can't live without her, you know."

She could only imagine the tears streaming down her husband's face and sobs started escaping her mouth. She placed her hand over her face to silence the sound coming out and stared back at the hallway. Why hadn't he told her how scared he truly was? She was his wife and it was killing her to hear him admit all that to someone that wasn't her. But, once again, she needed to be the strong one, so she forced herself to listen to everything that was being said. She was tired of being treated like a porcelain doll. She could take the truth, she was sure of it.

She slowly stood up and entered the room where they were talking. She couldn't hide forever and she might as well show herself to others now that she had heard everything that they had said. She walked up to Quinn and kissed her on both of her cheeks, with a shy little smile.

"Hey Rachel, it's so good to see you! I was actually just talking to Finn about you!" said her friend, hugging her at the same time.

"I know Q, everyone who comes over is here to talk about me so it's nothing new," she answered. Rachel hadn't meant to sound so harsh and rude, but it was the truth and she thought that people deserved to know what she was really feeling, outside of the courteous and ordinary response that she was usually giving.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean it that way," apologized Quinn, taken aback by Rachel's reaction for a moment. The latter shrugged a little and rested her back on Finn's chest. Then, she noticed the barely there baby bump that was forming underneath her friend's clothes and quickly forgot everything that was on her mind.

"Quinn! You either took all the weight that I lost, or you failed to mention that you were pregnant!" exclaimed a suddenly very happy Rachel.

"Well, I was planning on telling you today, beautiful. I am indeed 4 month pregnant now!" replied Quinn, overjoy showing in her tone. Rachel, who was pretty ecstatic about the news, went to hug her best friend for the second time.

"This is crazy, but it's so great Quinn. You're going to make such a wonderful mom, and I can already imagine Noah being all nice to your child. Oh my god; this is so great! Is it a boy or a girl?" asked Rachel, jumping around while clapping her hands.

"We don't know yet, but we want it to be a surprise, so you better be there while I'll be screaming in the hospital room!" warned Quinn, glad to see her friend's face finally light up.

"Don't worry about it, Finn and I will be there. It will be a good training for when I'll be the one giving birth, right Finn?" she asked while turning her head to look at her husband who just smiled back at her. He hadn't seen Rachel this happy since they had left the hospital, and seeing her react this way to the news of her friend's pregnancy was doing magnificent things to his heart. As Rachel had said earlier, they would be in the very same situation again one day, but the bump would then be on her belly instead of on Quinn's; he was absolutely sure of it.

"Yes, we will. And, hopefully, Puck will be there to give me all the tips on how to handle a pregnant woman," laughed Finn before kissing Rachel's forehead.

"Oh yes he will!" chuckled Quinn. "He's already complaining 'cause I woke him up at two in the morning as I wanted strawberries. He's the one who did this to me and I'm the one who has to carry his child all day long for the next few months, so he has absolutely no reason to complain. None. Seriously, the men nowadays are unbelievable! That's why, my dear Rachel, I need you and Santana to come help me buy pregnancy clothes tomorrow. And I won't take no for an answer."

"Well, then I guess I'm going to say maybe," half-joked Rachel since the only thing that she truly wanted was to stay hidden in the safety and calm of her house.

"Nope, no maybe either. Only yes," rephrased Quinn, confused as to why her friend didn't seem more excited about the prospect of what she had proposed. "Quinn, I can't," begged Rachel.

"Why not?" interrupted Finn. It was now his turn to feel intrigued by Rachel's reaction. As far as he was concerned, she had always loved shopping with her girl friends and had never declined an offer to do so for an entire day. "Yeah, why not?" tried Quinn.

"You must all be blind," started Rachel, "'cause I look absolutely awful! I don't have any hair left on my head, and I look scrawny, even if I eat like a hippo. Plus, I can't stand on my two feet for more than an hour.

"Oh Rachel. So you look awful? You're still our Rachel. You may not have any hair left, but isn't that exactly why you have a wig? Beside, don't worry about you feeling exhausted; we will stop and rest as soon as you're tired. Please Rachel, do this for me. You'll see, it will do you good, too; you can't stay in your house all the time," elaborated Quinn. She was trying her very best to hear a yes out of her friend's mouth without having to force her to say it.

"Quinn's right," nodded Finn in agreement. "Finn!" groaned Rachel, annoyed that he wasn't even on her side. "Sorry,"he murmured, although he was not sorry at all. He wanted his wife to start being her old-self a little bit more, and he had to admit that even though it happened rarely, he was now standing on Quinn's side.

At the same time, Quinn's phone started to ring. She looked at the caller ID and, when she saw that it was Puck, stood up and made her way toward the door. "I have to go guys. I'll come by tomorrow morning to pick you up, Rach," she yelled. Without even waiting for an answer, she waved and left, closing the door behind her.

Rachel then turned toward Finn with a not so serious look on her face. "You think your little "intervention" with Quinn was funny, don't you?"she asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I loved it. I'm being silent and I don't even say a word, but still: it's like I'm telling and explaining my point of view at the same time. I love it! She was right and I'm so happy that you're going with her," said Finn before leaving to start making dinner.

"Hey! I've never said that I was going! You both just assumed it," argued Rachel. "Well," replied Finn, "you know that you can't get away with it, Rach, and I'm sure that it cannot do you any harm to breathe some fresh air with your friends."

"I know that, Finn, but the paparazzi will see me… And-" she tried to say, but was quickly cut by her husband who was planning on letting her win this discussion. "Who cares, Rachel?" he asked her. "Live your life like you used to before the cancer and let them write whatever they want to."

"I look horrible, Finn," she said in a barely audible whisper.

"No you don't, you look beautiful," he reassured her. He slowly took a step toward her, looking into her eyes to make sure that she knew that he wasn't lying.

"You're a liar, and I don't like you lying to me," pouted Rachel. He lightly kissed her on the lips to shut her up. "I'm not." Another peck.

"Yes you are," she continued to say." I see myself in the mirror every day, you know." As much as she wanted him to understand what she was implying, she let him comfort her. His warmth and love were very much welcomed right now seeing as she was feeling insecure about going out under the light and stare of the entire world.

"Maybe," he admitted,"but you don't see yourself like I do. When I look at you, I see this strong woman, insanely hot, with a caring heart and a flawless soul. I see the woman that I love fighting this battle. And when you smile, I think that even though you don't have hair, even though you're skinny and all, you're still as beautiful as before, if not more."

"I'm not that strong," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck to play with his hair.

"Yes, you are," he stated. He then decided to kiss her deeply just to prove his point. It started slowly and softly; he was just enjoying her lips on his, the wonderful sweet taste that she was leaving in his mouth with every move of her tongue. Her lips had always been warm and smooth and he deepened the kiss, trying to pour all of his love in it. His hands lowered to her waist and he grabbed her thighs to place her on the kitchen counter, already forgetting the food that he was supposed to prepare, lost in the small kisses that he was laying on her neck. He heard her gasp a little when he found the spot that he knew very well was driving her crazy. On her side, she was trying her best not to let her emotions take over her, but she was really self-conscious and it took a lot of strength out of her to push Finn away.

"Babe, please stop," she demanded. She didn't want to hurt him, but she didn't feel like going any further. She couldn't help but think that he was doing this just because he had to and not because he really wanted to. At her request, he immediately stopped his actions and looked at her swollen lips.

"Why?" he asked. "It's been so long and I really need you, Rach." He tried caressing the side of her waist to see if this could make her changer her mind, but, unfortunately, this trick wasn't working on her.

"I want you too, Finn, believe me, but I'm tired. I'm gonna go rest on the couch while you're making dinner, okay?" She pecked his lips one last time and climbed off the counter, leaving a confused Finn behind. He didn't understand why she didn't want to do anything, but a big part of him was too scared to ask her about it. Since she had learned about the cancer, she hadn't wanted him to touch her. He was only allowed to kiss her and to take her in his arms at night, but every time that he had tried to do more, she had always seemed to find an excuse. He didn't and couldn't blame her though; he just wished that she would be more honest and tell him why. Staring at her retreating figure, he promised himself that he would talk to her about it, tomorrow. With one last sigh, he turned around and started making dinner.

Alone, on the couch, Rachel's guilt was starting to get the best of her. Nonetheless, her realistic and rational mind was screaming at her that she had no reason to feel that way: she was doing the right thing. She wanted him so much, but her body looked horrible and she certainly wasn't sexy at all. Who would want to have sex with a skeleton, right? Finn deserved better. "He deserves better," she thought to herself.

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below

When you're too in love to let it go

But if you never try you'll never know

Just what you're worth

A/N: I hope that you've loved this chapter and that you are looking forward to the next one that will be posted next Saturday.

Please review –even if it to say something negative, we always accept constructive criticism- or send us feedback on our twitter account: ItsfinchelLove3 (me) and DreamMeCory (the other author). We would love to know if you are still interested in our story… Until next time!