Yikes, I'm back again. It's been five years and I still can't escape this story.
I would like to thank bengalslikeglee for sending me the idea for this chapter. I never considered having Quinn write a letter to Finn, but I'm so glad they reached out to me, because this chapter has turned into one of my personal favorites of the entire story. (Also, in general, please don't hesitate to send me your ideas! I love to make your wishes for this story come true!)
Note - you may want to revisit the final scene of Chapter 20 to remind yourself what Finn and Quinn's heaven is like before you read this chapter.
I can't thank you all enough for sticking with me on this long ride. Enjoy! xo
On the 10-year anniversary of Finn's death, and almost 9-year anniversary of Quinn's, Puck gathered his girls and took them to the William McKinley High School glee club choir room. The three girls once again sat in the chairs they had long ago occupied, looking at Puck in varying degrees of concern and curiosity.
"What gives, Puckerman?" Santana asked finally, breaking the silence. "Why'd you drag us back to this hell hole? And Beth isn't here so how the hell did she manage to get out of it?"
"Santana!" Rachel scolded. "This is a highly important room and certainly not a hell hole of any kind. I did some of my most prominent growing up sitting in these chairs – well, actually I stood in front of the glee club singing more than I sat but you understand my point."
Brittany nodded her head, siding with Rachel.
Santana rolled her eyes. They were 32 now and Rachel, though Santana loved her dearly, still managed to irritate the crap out of her on a daily basis. "Whatever, Rach," she said before turning her attention back to Puck. "So?"
Puck took a breath, "So. You know it's our guy's 10-year and about to be our girl's 9-year." The girls nodded solemnly and Puck continued, "Ok well, I'm just Mr. Delivery guy and I've been doing that for years. But there's one letter I haven't shown you yet, because I wasn't sure when the time was right."
"What's the date on the letter?" Brittany asked.
"That's the thing, Britts. There is no date. I was never supposed to deliver this letter because… it's for Finn." Puck pulled a rumpled envelope out of his pocket and held it out for the girls to see. Sure enough, there was Finn's name in Quinn's handwriting but no date next to it, as was customary to every other letter the blonde had written. "I walked into Q's hospital room one day and saw her throwing this away. I asked what it was and she said to forget it, that it wasn't a letter I could deliver. I waited until she was asleep before I fished it out of the trash. And then I saw Finn's name on it and I just couldn't throw it away."
"What does it say?" Rachel said softly.
"I don't know," Puck said. "I never opened it. Honestly, I forgot I even had it until the other day when it fell out of a stack of letters I was sorting through. And with today being Finn's 10… I don't know, it just felt right to read it today. But I didn't want to do it alone."
"Is it right, though?" Brittany asked. "To open a letter that isn't for us?"
Everyone looked at Santana. The Quinn decipherer. She sighed took the letter from Puck, "Straight up? I don't know. I'm sort of with Britts on the whole creeping in someone else's mail thing. But I also can't stand the thought of any of Q's words going unread by anyone."
"So…" said Puck. "Do we open it?"
The four of them sat in silence for a long time before a hand reached over and took the letter from Santana. "I'll do it," Rachel whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Fingers trembling, she tore open the envelope and unfolded the sheets of paper.
She began to read aloud.
Dear Finn,
I'm not really sure how this works. I've never written a letter to someone who is already dead. Even though I'm writing it down here, do my words somehow still get to you in heaven? Is that even where you are? I'm choosing to believe it is, and I'm choosing to believe you'll get to read this, one way or another.
What is it like? Dying? Does it hurt? What happens after you close your eyes for the last time? Do you ever get to see anything again? Does your life end here and begin again just a moment later, but in heaven? What is heaven like, Finn? Is it beautiful? Will I get to see it, too?
I have so many questions I wish I could ask you but the one that won't stop haunting my brain is, how do you stand it? How do you stand to leave the people you love behind, knowing your death will shatter them and leave them broken? How do I leave this earth knowing that I've broken Puck and Santana and Rachel and Brittany and Beth into a million pieces and the only glue I have to offer them is my words and regrets?
How do you stand to die and leave your own heart behind?
I thought I had done that already. I thought I had cut my heart out of my chest and handed it to Shelby when I gave away Beth. I could have sworn to you that instead of giving her a baby, I was giving her the very reason I even had a heart to begin with.
So many things make me sad these days, Finn, but few things sadden me more than the fact that Beth will never get to know you.
I know. We never really talked about the baby stuff after the truth came out. We tried to work past it and around it and over it but we never got through it. When you found out about who Beth's father really was, I broke something. I broke the chances of you and me ever truly finding peace with each other again. I broke a part of you that I know never truly healed.
Not a day goes by that I don't regret it, Finn.
You would have been the most incredible father if you had gotten the chance to have children. To have you as a dad? No child would have been luckier. You have the biggest heart of anyone I have ever known. Maybe it took losing your own father to give you the capacity to love so deeply. Maybe being raised by a single mother instilled a gentleness in you. Maybe joining glee club taught you compassion. All of these things and more molded you into a person I can't believe I was lucky enough to have by my side during the early months of my one and only pregnancy.
A person who I ended up hurting so deeply. I am so, so sorry, Finn. I will never be able to say it enough.
But I will keep saying it. I will keep saying it even if you can't hear me anymore. And maybe one day, I'll cross paths with you in heaven and I'll get to say it again, in person. I will carry these words with me in my heart and maybe one day, I will have the courage to let them free; the courage to open my mouth and let my apologies spill out until you have heard every last word you deserve to hear from me. Maybe one day, you will believe me when I tell you that even though I hurt you, I have always loved you in my own way.
I have to keep thinking I have a chance after I die, because if I don't, I don't think I'll be able to stand leaving. If I wake up in heaven and find my way to you, I'll know that's my chance. My chance to make things better between us. My chance to heal the person I perhaps hurt the most while I was here. My chance at redemption.
You and I are so alike, Finn. And we have been angry with each other for so long. If I get one wish for what heaven is like, I hope it's been good to you. And maybe, even though I don't deserve it, it will be good to me, too, and bring us the peace we both lost so long ago.
I hope I get to see you soon.
Love, Quinn
As Rachel finished reading the letter and her voice began to fade, Finn slowly opened his eyes.
For so long, it had felt like there was a balloon stuck in his chest, constantly squeezed by his lungs at the intake of every breath, wedged against his heart, refusing to pop. He had carried that balloon with him every single day since finding out the truth about Beth. Not just because he had lost a child who was never truly his to begin with, but because he had lost the first girl he ever really loved. He had thought it all meant nothing to her, that he had just been a pawn in her game. And later, even after he had come to realize she never meant to hurt him, the balloon still remained, a constant reminder that he hadn't been good enough.
But now, listening to Rachel read aloud Quinn's words, Finn closed his eyes again and took a deep breath and finally, finally, felt the balloon pop. A wave of calm he hadn't dared to imagine he would ever feel again washed over him, cleansing him, healing him. Tears fell down his face as he laughed, throwing his head back and letting the joy bubble out of him.
After all these years. Finally. Release.
He walked to where he knew she would be, where she always was. He sat down next to her on the grassy ledge.
She looked up at him sheepishly. "You heard," she said. He nodded.
They sat there together staring out at the sea. "You got your wish," he said.
"I did?"
Finn looked down at Quinn and smiled, "I watched you, you know. I watched you write all the letters. But when I saw you writing this one, I couldn't watch anymore. I told myself it was because I didn't want to hear what you had to say, and that I didn't want to give you another chance. But deep down, Q, I think I just wasn't ready to let go of all the anger and the hurt because sometimes, it felt like they were the only tangible emotions I could still feel."
"And now?" she asked, almost shyly.
"Now… I don't feel anything but free."
Quinn's eyes filled with tears. "But wait," she said. "I still don't understand how I got my wish."
Finn motioned for her to scoot closer and when she did, he put his arm around her. "Don't you remember? You said if you could make one wish about what heaven would be like, you hoped it would be good for me. And it has been. You set me free, Quinn," he said gently. "Don't you think it's time for you to set yourself free, too?"
Quinn closed her eyes. It hadn't mattered how many letters she had written, or how much she watched over her family. Every single day, she felt like she had failed by leaving them. Every single day, the only emotions that hadn't faded were guilt and grief and failure.
Finn bumped her shoulder with his. "Open your eyes, Quinn," he said, and she knew he didn't mean physically.
Santana and Brittany were married. They would have each other, and the others forever. Puck hadn't let his sadness harden him; rather, it had allowed him to blossom and grow into a man they could all be proud of. Rachel was the successful star they had always known she would be, and was not at all the self-serving teenager they used to know; she was warm and lovely and the light of their eyes. And Beth was growing up in the middle of it all. Their collective heart.
They were okay. Her death had hurt them, and would hurt them forever. But they were all okay.
Quinn looked at the boy next to her. The boy she had caused so much pain. The boy who was giving her a chance.
"I want to be free," she whispered, as she felt something expand and release in her chest.
And she was.