Last chapter! I've sort of been dreading writing this actually, because it means an end to this fic!
Thank you as this fic has over 400 reviews and that makes me so happy. I feel like we should all have a big group hug.
Enjoy!
The room is silent, still. Rachel can't even feel her own heart beating as the understanding sinks in. Staring into Quinn's hazel eyes – she can't bring herself to look at Finn's expression right now – she sees the sadness in them, the upset. And she knows that this is happening.
That it's the only way to get a cure; to remove the growth inside her, the growth which just happens to be on her brain. It doesn't take a genius to realize what that means for her.
She finally tears her gaze from Quinn's, instead looking to the floor as she begs for someone to break the silence.
"I know that this isn't what you wanted to hear, but it's the only way, Rachel." Quinn sighs when neither Finn nor Rachel can muster up a response. She seems to notice the tense air around them, reaching for the door handle again, "I'll give you some time for everything to sink in, and I'll be back soon." She gives a sad look toward Rachel, and then her eyes move to Finn.
Quinn then leaves without another word, the door shutting behind her being the only sound emitted into the still room. Rachel tilts her head ever so slightly in Finn's direction, but she still can't look at him. His gaze is intent on her, however; she can feel it burning against her skin. Head pounding with the pressure of having so many thoughts pushed inside, she tries to focus on one at a time, yet it's more difficult the harder she tries.
Seconds turn into minutes, and then she can't take it any longer. "Please say something," she begs of him, her voice barely a quiver.
The bed shifts as he moves closer to her, hand wrapping around her smaller one. "Rach, look at me."
She sucks in a sharp breath when she suddenly feels as though she's going to pass out. Finn steadies her, and it's then that she turns her neck entirely to stare into his terrified eyes. It takes a huge amount of effort to keep her tears from brimming over, while it appears Finn seems to be doing the same. And then he asks her a question that they both know the answer to.
"What do you want to do?"
Rachel tenses with fear, and reluctantly pushes the words past the lump in her throat, because this is the right thing to do. This is the reason why they're here. "I have to do it, Finn."
The sadness is his eyes causes a sore pang within her heart, which clenches uncomfortably. When Finn doesn't say anything, only clutches her hand tighter, she fills the silence. "A cure, Finn," she whispers, "they can do it, they can save the world and then maybe things will go back to normal." She closes her eyes, "and all the things that we talked about can happen to other people. They can have their happily ever after." Her broken tone doesn't go missed by Finn, who reaches up his other hand and gently slides it around her back until it rests on her waist. As though instinct, she leans into his embrace.
That's when he asks the most important question. "And what about ours?" She only cries into his shoulder. "You don't have to do this," he tells her, "you have a choice."
The girl shakes her head, "no, I don't."
"Of course you do," he insists.
"I didn't come all this way for nothing, Finn. I can't just walk away," she looks to him in disbelief. He knows what she's been through; he's been right next to her nearly every step of the way, and surely he understands how important this is, how a cure will change the world just as the outbreak originally did. Walking away would be just as bad as having never found the Fireflies in the first place; it would be letting the infection win. And she just can't let that happen, not when she has the power to help. "I owe this to all the survivors," she says quietly, "I owe them a chance to have a normal life."
He pulls back, eyes boring into hers. His face is unreadable as he says, "Rachel, you don't owe anyone anything."
As the words sink in, she's silent, face blank.
Beginning to rise to his feet, he adds, "no matter what Quinn or any of the other Fireflies say, you do have a choice in this."
"No, I don't," she too stands. "How many more immune people are there, other than Blaine and I? What if we're the only ones?"
"Rachel, I didn't think that anyone could be immune, and then I met you. A few weeks later I met Blaine. If I met two immune people in a matter of weeks, chances are that there could be hundreds out there," he pleads, "it doesn't have to be you that does this."
"This might be the only chance, Finn." Her voice is strained, thick with upset, and she can barely meet his eyes. "What if it is the only chance? I have to do what's right."
"Even if it means dying?"
"Yes."
"Or losing me?"
She falters tears more noticeable. And she can't bring herself to reply, not that Finn needs her to vocalize her answer.
Then he goes to speak again, barely maintaining a firm hold on himself as he says, "because I can't lose you again. I can't, Rach." His voice splits and cracks, while it feels like the same thing is happening to her heart. She looks to him desperately, torn between the right thing and what she wants more than anything. She almost reaches out to take hold of Finn's hand, to feel that connection that his touch has always brought, but she doesn't, for fear that it might make her crumble before him and consider his choice. As tempting as it is – really, truly tempting – Rachel doesn't think she could bare the guilt of letting this gift of a possible vaccine go wasted.
But then, what about Finn? What happens to him? Could she really do that to him when she knows how it feels herself?
"Finn," she starts slowly.
"Don't," he replies in a scarily low tone, "don't feed me some bullshit about this being the only way. You have a choice."
Rachel looks to the ground, her entire body unsettled and full of heartache, "then, I have to make the right decision, the one that best for everyone -"
"Please -"
"And not one that's only good for us. I could change the world with this Finn, I could make it better -"
"What is there to make better, Rach?" he snaps, "the world is fucked up and no cure is going to save anyone. People are murderers and rapists and cannibals" - she winces at that particular comment - "and just because there's a cure doesn't mean that any of that shit will stop. Sure, a cure will save them from the infection, but nothing is going to save them from themselves, Rach.Nothing. Don't you see that?"
She's quiet, mouth pursing together tightly. And then she says, "If you always thought this was so pointless, why did you bring me here? Why did you agree to this?"
"Because it's what you wanted," he says simply. "I know how much it meant to you."
"It still means more than anything -"
"You're willing to die," Finn cuts across, eyes swimming with sadness and betrayal, "for something that might not even help."
"But there's still a chance that it might," she insists.
"But if we go back, if we go home, then I know that there's a definite chance that you and me can be together, and we can be happy. That's all I want and I know it's what you want, too."
Her expression sinks even further, eyes brimming with sadness as she silently grieves a life shared with Finn that they could have had together, because she does want it. She's spent her whole life missing something, and now that she has Finn that absence has been filled. But she has to be selfless here, she has to do the right thing. "Keep finding something to fight for," she repeats lowly, "you told me that, Finn. And that's exactly what I'm doing."
"But I'm fighting for you, Rachel. I have been for a while now. To be quite honest with you, I couldn't give a fuck about the Fireflies, but I can't let your do this to yourself, I can't watch you sacrifice yourself over this." He gently takes hold of her hands, squeezing ever so gently.
She pulls away, "please stop making this so hard." Her voice trembles with her tears, "you're not going to change my mind." Rachel steps back from him, because if she finds herself in his embrace once more, she knows that she'd succumb to his wishes. "This is the only way, Finn. And I am doing this."
He stops, then his face hardens, something that she hasn't had aimed for at her since they first met. "You once made me promise that I'd never leave you -"
"Finn," her voice quivers.
"You can't do the same to me, Rach. You can't leave me." His shoulders noticeably slump, completely defeated it, "I need you." It's something that he's never admitted to anyone before, and Rachel must have known on some level, but it's a whole different thing actually vocalizing it to her. Then he says something that he really wishes he could've told her in better circumstances, "I love you, and I can't lose you again." He looks to her, almost hopefully, like saying those words will make her come to her senses and leave to the settlement with him by her side.
All she does is let the tears rolls down her cheeks, muttering, "I'm so sorry," over and over, and he's sure that he hears a soft, broken, "I love you too," in there amongst her apologies.
He forces on a brave face, while inside sadness burns away. Reaching for his backpack silently, he says, "Fine, die for the Fireflies, see if you can save the world. But," he pauses, suddenly breathless, "I can't sit around and wait for it to happen."
"You're leaving?" she asks, voice straining.
Finn looks her dead in the eye, "I'm not going to watch you kill yourself for this."
Head bowed, she cries even harder. "Finn, please."
"No!" It comes out much harsher than expected, but the guilt is lost between the betrayal seeping into his body. "I'm so sorry, but I can't, Rachel. And I can't change your mind - what else do you want me to do? You can't expect me to be there when..." He pauses,and then shakes his head, "I'm sorry." With a look of despair sent Rachel's way, he throws the backpack over his shoulder and leaves. Finn waits until he's out of earshot before he completely breaks down with sobs.
Rachel manages to calm do about an hour later, with Quinn gently rubbing her back and reassuring the girl that it'll be less painful for him in the future. But she hates that. She doesn't want it to be painful for him at all. All she can see is the hurt in his eyes, the hatred, because she's leaving him and she's not coming back. Rachel wipes the stray tears with the back of her hand, and then turns her attention back to Quinn.
"So," she tries to sound strong and brave, "what happens now?"
She gives a comforting smile, "in a little while, we'll get you prepped for surgery. The anaesthesia will take over quickly... you won't feel a thing." Ever so gently, she leans over and places her hand over Rachel's, "you're doing the right thing, and when we have a vaccine it'll be all thanks to you."
The brunette swallows thickly, and then asks with caution, "So you'll definitely be able to get a vaccine?"
"We should," she replies, observing Rachel's face with hesitance. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason, just... um, what if it doesn't work?" Doubt lingers in her mind; she's never learned anything about science, or the technology needed to produce a vaccine, so she really is in the dark right now.
Quinn gives pause, then throws the smile right back onto her face, but something doesn't ring right about it. Rachel averts her gaze downwards as Quinn says, "if it doesn't work, we keep trying. That's what the Fireflies is about; hope." At that, Rachel frowns; when she'd been with the Fireflies all those months ago, they'd done an awfully little amount of hoping and mostly smuggling, attacks on the army and other similar acts. She tries to ignore the unsettled feeling in her body, but it becomes increasingly difficult.
She wrings her fingers together, "if I do this... will I..." She pauses, eyes welling with tears, "I'll die, won't I? There's no chance of doing the surgery without me..." This time, she doesn't finish the sentence, a look of despair thrown toward the floor as her heart sinks. It's a strange thing, hearing that your life will have to end, whether it be for a good cause or not. While the fear begins to creep in, she mostly feels numb, empty. Maybe that's the fact that there's an empty space beside her where Finn should be, telling her that it's all going to be okay.
But it isn't. Not at all.
She's going to die.
Quinn watches her with sympathy, slowly heaving in a sigh. "Yes," she says quietly. "When we do the surgery, the doctors want to fully remove your brain, in order to have the highest success rate." Rachel just sits there, nodding along with a blank expression as Quinn continues to explain the procedure. But she finds herself unable to concentrate, her mind elsewhere.
It's only when the blonde touches her shoulder gently that she snaps out of her trance, heart beating faster as she suggests they go to the operating theatre. Rachel's steps are sombre and slow, almost reluctant. She's doing the right thing, she reminds herself. This if for the good of humanity, for the future of humanity. But that knowledge doesn't stop her heart from beating so quickly she thinks it could beat right out of her chest. As they walk, the only thing on her mind is the broken look of Finn's face before he'd left, and she then looks to Quinn, whose expression looks nothing like that.
She finds herself stood in the background while Quinn talks to a group of people in green scrubs, as they stand in a room full of scary looking machines surrounding an old, slightly rusting gurney. "Come sit down, Rachel," Quinn says with a sad smile. It takes her a few minutes to get her feet to cooperate, moving toward the gurney, where she places herself onto the white sheet. In her own hospital gown, she suddenly feels fear strike her as the situation hits, and she struggles to search for her breath.
A hand reaches out to take hold of Quinn's, but she wishes that it was Finn beside her instead. "Hey," Quinn says, "it's okay. Think of all the lives you're going to save."
If the vaccine works. And if not, then what? Will they find another immune survivor? One who's willing to make the same sacrifice as her?
She nods in spite of the tears welling in her eyes, and she clutches harder onto Quinn's hand. "I'm sorry," she gets out, "I'm just – I'm... I'm scared."
"That's only natural," she replies, comfortingly, eyes moving over the clearly anxious girl, "if you want, we can start now. Otherwise you'll only get more nervous."
Rachel gives pause, not really sure what she wants to do anymore. The only thing she's sure of is that she wants Finn there.
He doesn't know exactly when the heartbreak had simmered away to anger, but right now he storms back the way he'd just come, cursing under his breath. How can she do this? How can she just throw away everything that they've been through for something that she isn't sure is even going to work? He tries to ignore all the pain and anguish at the thought that there's nothing he could do to convince her otherwise, to convince her to stay with him.
That kills him the most, to feel that Rachel chose something else over him. If it were the other way around, he'd choose her in a heartbeat. Like he said, he really couldn't give a shit about the Fireflies; all they've done is cause trouble for years. But Rachel, she's the most important thing in the world to him. Well, she was. His chest burns with fear as he considers that they might already have done it, that she's lying dead in an operating room somewhere while they poke and prod at her brain.
A fresh batch of anger hits him, and he kicks the nearest object to him, which just happens to be a stray chair next to one of the buildings. What is he going to do without her? He's already been through this, he's been through all the pain over losing someone, and he doesn't think that he's strong enough to go through it over again.
Consumed by sadness, he stopped trying to keep a hold on his tears a long time ago, and for a moment he wonders what Rachel was like after he left. Does she want him back? Is she upset? That causes guilt to gnaw away at him; he doesn't ever want to make her feel sad, and he thought that she wanted the same for him, too. Now it's clear where her choice lies.
Maybe if he had more time, if he hadn't left; he could have saved her. He might have even been able to convince the Fireflies what they're doing is wrong. They're going to kill a seventeen year old, kill her and use her as some test subject. It doesn't make them heroes that they'd do that for a cure; it makes them murderers. They've stole the only thing that's made him happy in years, made her think that this is the only way. They're not the good guys. Not by a long shot.
All he can imagine is Rachel, scared and frightened. He should be by her side, comforting the girl, even if he doesn't agree with her choice, even if there is no other way. But... fuck, he just doesn't know how he can sit there with the girl who made him better than ever before and lose her, at the same losing a part of him that he's only just been reacquainted with.
He throws another look over his shoulder at the hospital, suddenly slowing in his frenzied steps forward. It causes him to finally halt, brows furrowing together when an awful feeling sweeps over his body. And it's then that he turns himself right around, rushing back toward it. Whether he feels like he can be there or not, he knows that he'll never forgive himself if he just gives up so easily on Rachel.
So he runs, as though there are infected chasing after him wildly, and until his chest and throat burns with exertion. The hospital grows closer, a dark shadow in the early morning sun that he rushes into, hurrying to the room where he and Rachel were before he's left. His heart sinks as he finds it empty. "No," he whispers, "no, please no."
"She's not there." He instantly spins around at the sound of Quinn's voice, finding himself staring into the woman's hazel eyes.
His heart seizes in his chest, "she's not... please tell me you haven't yet..." He stumbles over his words, cautiously and fearfully peering toward her.
She shifts on her feet, before shaking her head. "They're just about to start." Quinn observes his reaction with interest, as his shock turns into hope and suddenly he's trying to barge past her. "Where do you think you're going?"
"To Rachel," he answers simply.
"Finn, you can't. She's already made her decision."
"And I'm making mine."
The woman hurries after him, a hand reaching out for his shoulder, before he easily shrugs it off. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"What the fuck do you think it means?" Finn stares solely ahead, eyes focusing to finding the operating room before they can do anything to her.
"You are not taking this away from us, Finn," she growls, and the next thing he knows, the click of a gun can be heard. Finn stills completely in his actions. Slowly, he turns.
He holds his hands up in surrender, eyes widening slightly at the way Quinn's face is filled with anger. "Quinn," he begins slowly.
"You are not going to do anything," she says surely, "this isn't your choice."
"And since when is it yours?"
"Rachel wanted to do this." The woman insists, though her expression falters slightly, "she understood that sacrifices have to be made -"
"Sacrifices," he scoffs, "she's just a kid. Not only that, but she trusted you. She looked up to you." Finn face darkens, "I get those guys doing this to her, but you Quinn, I don't know how you can live with yourself."
The grip on her gun tightens, eyes narrowing. She glares his way, "don't you dare pull that crap. Do you know how hard this is for me? I've known her since she was born. I looked after her for years, but she isn't what's important – the vaccine is. Don't you see? This is our future. "
"Don't you ever say that Rachel isn't important." His voice is scarily low.
"For fuck sake, Finn. Put your feelings aside and realize that this is what's good for everyone."
"Not for me," he replies with utter certainty.
She looks to him in disbelief. "You would rather live in a world with no cure, full of infected, than have her die?"
"Without a doubt."
For a moment, his response catches her off guard, and his drift downwards again. In a flash, he reaches out for the gun, his hands gripping around the barrel and then body diving to the side as a shot rings out. He manages to snatch the weapon from her with a strong tug, twisting it around to face the woman. For the first time ever, he sees fear registered in her eyes.
"So you're going to kill me now?" Quinn asks, "and you and Rachel will live happily ever after?" The woman slowly shakes her head, jaw locking. "The infection can't kill her, but at one point someone else is going to. Whether it be hunters or soldiers, she's not going to last out there. Like you said, she's just a kid."
"You're wrong," he says, "she's so much stronger than you think. You have no idea what we've been through to get here."
"And yet you're just going to make the whole journey pointless by taking her back?" she raises her brow, "you know that this is what she wants."
He falters at that, Rachel's words going over in his head. This is the only way, Finn. And I am doing this. He briefly feels guilt at his actions of wanting to take this decision from her, but she'll understand; she has to. He's doing this for her, for them both to have some sort of happy ending.
"At least this way she has a chance," he admits.
"And what about all the people who we could save with a vaccine -what about them? Why is she so important, Finn?"
Finn doesn't miss a beat as he says, "Because I love her." He watches Quinn's expression contort into shock at words, but even more so at his next ones, "and I'm not going to let you murder her." The next thing he knows, he's pulling the trigger to the gun.
He gently pokes at the fire he'd managed to get going with one of the spare pieces of wood for when it dies down. With a sigh, he moves his eyes sideways to the floor, and then back to the fire again. Orange flickers against the dark night air, his face glowing in its light.
"Hmmm – ughhhh."
Dropping the wood, he instantly shifts to the side to move closer to the body lay against his backpack. Rachel blinks profusely, lips drawn downwards in a soft frown. He watches her fingers twitch first, before the movement travels along her entire body and she's curling into herself, turning over her side.
And then her eyes fall on him.
"Finn," she breathes, having just enough energy to smile.
In an instant, Finn feels a flood of happiness wash over all the doubt and worry that he's felt these past few hours, and he smiles back. "Hey you."
She tilts her head, their surroundings causes a look of confusion to take to her face. "What? I don't... what happened?" Her voice is just as weak as the time when she'd been ill after Blaine found her.
Finn closes his eyes, wishing he could completely forget about everything that went on in that hospital, about what he'd done. So instead, he says, "I just couldn't lose you again."
He sees the way the words sink in, Rachel piecing everything together, and he gets ready for her to be upset, to hate what he did when she abundantly made it clear that it was her decision, not his. But she doesn't do any of that. With slow movement, she reaches out and entwines her fingers with his. "I'm so sorry, Finn," she begins with worry in her eyes, "I didn't want you to leave... I was just so upset and I didn't know what to do – I guess I was just being stubborn." Her words are slow, a little slurred, but still heartfelt.
"Hey, hey," he shuffles closer, gently helping her to sit up. She immediately leans her head against his side, eyes closing. "The drugs are still affecting you," he whispers gently, free fingers running through her now short hair. By the time he'd found the surgery, the doctors had already started cutting it off, leaving it just above her shoulder. Just another reminder of the ordeal. "Take it easy." But he doesn't think Rachel understands the phrase 'take it easy' as she continues to move. He has to wrap his arms tightly around her to keep the girl still, and only then does she lean into his embrace.
He waits for the anger to come, when she realizes that it's his fault there won't ever be a cure, but it never does come. Her thumb brushes against the back of his hand as she gets out, "I changed my mind." She sighs, "just before they put me under – I said I didn't want to do it anymore... I was so, so scared." Rachel gulps, hand holding that little bit tighter to his.
"You didn't want to?" he asks in surprise, "but I thought you wanted to help get a cure?"
"I did," she nods, "and I still do, but then I started thinking about how I felt when I thought you were dead – it was like a little part of me died, too." He hears a sniffling sound and looks down to see tears swimming in her eyes. Finn gently kisses her hairline, just content to hold her when earlier that day he thought that he may have lost her forever. "And if I did that to you..." Rachel starts, voice thick and strained, "I just couldn't make you feel like that, Finn. I love you so much."
Finn smiles, until she starts speaking once more, voice low. "When I told them, they wouldn't listen – no matter what I did, and I – I couldn't get away... then they injected me with the anesthesia and the next thing I know... I'm waking up here." She looks up to him in confusion, while Finn remains silent. "What did you do to them, Finn?" she asks with sadness in her eyes.
His continued silence tells her everything she needs to know.
"They were going to kill you," he tries to explain, "and they didn't care about you, they just wanted to cut you up and use you for their own benefit."
She suddenly sighs, "there's never going to be a cure now..."
"No, probably not." Rachel visibly deflates, expression downcast. "Rach, don't blame yourself. There might not even have been a cure if you'd gone through with the surgery, but at least this way we're together, cure or no cure."
"You're right," she manages small smile, then adds, "thank you for coming back for me, Finn."
"I'd do it again, you know, in a heartbeat."
There's a brief moment of comfortable silence before Rachel asks, "So where do we go now?"
"Firstly," he shifts slightly as he holds her against him, "you need to rest up. And in the morning, we'll eat and then go home, okay?"
Rachel gives a small smile, resting her head against his chest, before her eyes begin to close. She soon moves drowsily, completely succumbing to sleep again in less than ten minutes. Finn hugs her close, confident that he made the right choice. Not for the world, not for the future of humanity, but the right choice for them.
And there it is (other than the epilogue!) I really hope that you liked it.
Please review :)