A/N: Alright everybody, I should really be studying for my end-of-semester exams right now, but this story has a hold on me that I just can't seem to shrug off. Every time I try to put it to the back of my mind, Terri and Jacob come bobbing to the surface in one helluva creepy way (that's hat sleep deprivation and the flu will do to you, I guess…) and they just won't go away. So I figured I should satisfy them and get another chapter done. This will be the last, apart from the epilogue.
As always, much love to those of you who alerted/favourited this story since my last update and, above all, to my lovely reviewers: SawyersNumberOneFan, Kkaty, seducedlikemagic, islay12, Swing Girl At Heart, , yowzers, lynxpanther, Pomme d'Amur, Katie, VoiceInMyHead, Tayler, TheUltimateGleek123 and ChocoxChipxMint. I never thought so many people would enjoy this story, but I guess 195 reviews proves me wrong…
Chapter title is Until the End of the World by U2.
DISCLAIMER: OK, OK, I think we've all established by now that I am not Ryan Murphy. Glee- though it pains me to say it- is not mine.
/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/
Rachel's scream was smothered by the sound of the explosion.
"NO!" she shrieked, biting and scraping at Jacob's arms, imprisoning her in his embrace. "FINN!"
The building had exploded in a sudden burst of flame and both Jacob and Rachel had heard the deafening commotion as the roof collapsed. Rachel fought furiously against her captor, but all her efforts were in vain.
"My sweet," Jacob crooned. "This is a good thing, don't you see? Now we can be together, forever."
But Rachel was done playing the part of the simpering damsel in distress. She twisted to face Jacob, snaking her arms around his neck. The afro-haired boy's eyes widened with undisguised excitement as she leaned her head close to his.
"Rachel…" he breathed.
The small girl smiled coyly. She leaned in as though to kiss him and then, eyes closed and bracing herself, she head-butted him hard. Jacob swore and his grip slackened for a moment. It was all Rachel needed. She wrenched herself from Jacob's arms and took off towards the burning building, tears almost blinding her as she ran. For a moment, she thought everything would be OK- she was free, she could get there, everyone could get out- but then Jacob gave a huge roar and had grabbed her around the middle.
He threw her roughly to the ground and stood over her, a rueful smile on his face. He clutched his knife menacingly in his hand, still red with a congealing mixture of Matt and Mercedes' blood. Rachel gave a soft whimper and Jacob's expression contorted to one of rage.
"You lied to me Rachel," he hissed, kneeling so that he was crushing her hips beneath his considerable weight. "You lied. I thought you really loved me."
"H-how could I?" Rachel countered, her voice shaking almost undetectably. "How could I love someone like you, Jacob? Someone who was willing to kill innocent people to get what he wanted… You're nothing but a spoilt child."
"They hurt you, they-"
"Were my friends," Rachel finished coldly, glaring up at Jacob. "The only friends I've ever had, and you killed them because in some ridiculous fantasy you concocted, you thought it would make me love you."
For a moment, she thought she saw regret in Jacob's eyes. But then the boy leered and leaned in close to her. His breath was rancid as he pressed his mouth to her neck and allowed his lips to slide downwards.
"It doesn't matter if you love me," he sneered, scrabbling eagerly for the first button on her blouse. "What matters is that you're mine now."
Rachel kicked at him, but Jacob held firm. The diminutive diva closed her eyes and braced herself for the inevitable grisly end. She could feel Jacob's hands on her, his rotten breath making her skin crawl and then, as though from nowhere, a voice-
"Nobody gets to give Rachel Berry a hard time apart from her fellow Glee club members. And possibly the fashion police."
There was a sickening thud and suddenly Jacob was a dead weight on top of her.
Rachel opened her eyes, almost fearfully, as somebody pulled him away.
"I think that should do the trick," Kurt said calmly, surveying his work with a grim pleasure.
"Kurt!"
Before the boy even knew what was happening, Rachel had thrown herself, sobbing heartily, into his arms. Kurt stood in stunned amazement as his former rival howled into his shoulder.
"Kurt… I… but you… How?"
"No time to explain Barbra Streisand," he replied, again in that uncannily calm tone. "I believe we have lives to save."
And with that, he took off, limping slightly and clutching at his abdomen, in the direction of the inferno. The building crackled menacingly as the flames licked at the grass outside and smoke billowed skyward, dark and gloomy.
"Finn," Rachel whispered brokenly, and a couple of feet in front of her Kurt echoed the word. He edged towards the blaze, shielding his nose and mouth with the collar of his shirt, and began to debate the merits and disadvantages of the various possible entry points.
"Kurt, you can't-" Rachel started to say behind him, with a hint of her old obnoxiousness. However, she was cut off when a pair of figures emerged from the wreckage, coughing and wheezing.
"'Cedes!" Kurt exclaimed breathlessly. He hurtled towards his best friend, who was being supported by a visibly shaken Matt Rutherford. The football player was gaunt beneath his dark colouring and blood was seeping through the shoulder of his striped polo shirt. He looked dizzy and one side of his body was blistering up before Kurt and Rachel's eyes. Rachel hurried to help him lower Mercedes to the ground and then Matt collapsed in a heap beside her, exhausted.
Both had passed out, but whether this was from shock or injury neither Rachel nor Kurt could tell.
"'Cedes?" Kurt whispered wildly, looking down brokenly at his friend. The girl, like Matt, was covered in burns down one side, and the pair of them had needle-like cuts all over their faces. Mercedes bore a deep gash down her cheek and a nasty-looking bruise on her forehead.
"Is she…?"
Rachel leaned in and checked Mercedes' breathing, then did the same for Matt. She nodded shakily.
"They're breathing, but only just. I-I think they've gone into shock."
Kurt took in this information without glancing again at either of the ruined figures lying at his feet. He concentrated instead on Rachel, his last hope. Any other day, her presence would have irritated him beyond belief, as would her unfortunate clothing habits. But today was not most days.
"Rachel," he said gently. "Stay with Matt and Mercedes and try to keep them breathing. Can you do that?"
Rachel nodded.
"Where are you going?"
Kurt took a steadying breath and glanced towards the inferno.
"No!" Rachel exclaimed. "Kurt, you simply-"
"My brother's in there," the boy replied, and he did not need to say anything more. A look of understanding passed between the two, and then the moment was broken.
Kurt ran without fear into the flames.
/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/
Inside, the kitchen unit was a haze of smoke. Puck could barely see anything as he hauled himself across the floor on his hands and knees, dragging the leg Terri had punctured with a bullet to the kneecap behind him. Smoke filled his lungs and darkness pulled at the edges of his vision, but he would not be deterred. He had to get to Finn.
The thing about Puck was that, no matter how much of a douchebag he appeared to be on the outside, he was intrinsically loyal to his friends. And even though he and Finn hadn't exactly been on speaking terms since the whole 'knocking-up-Quinn' fiasco, Puck still considered the lanky quarterback to be his best friend. Hell, if he was being honest, Finn was his only friend. Sure, Matt and Mike were OK, but both of them preferred the rest of the Glee kids to Puck, and Santana and Britt usually just used him when they wanted to make out with someone. Finn was the one who was always there. They had met on their first day of elementary school, when Finn was the smallest kid in the class, pre-Frankenteen growth spurt, and Dave Karofsky had stuck his head in the sandbox. Puck gave Karofsky an epic wedgie and got put in time out, but at lunchtime Finn came and gave him half of his PB&J to say thanks, which was good because Puck's mom was too busy pickling her liver to make him paper bag lunches like the other kids. Finn was there through everything, and he was the only one Puck ever let in. When his dad skipped town, it was Finn who immediately offered him the camp bed on his bedroom floor. When Puck's first real crush (Santana, actually, but before they knew she was more into Britt than penis) started making out with some older guy at Quinn's pool party and Puck got totally wasted to stop it hurting, Finn was the one who massaged his back while he vomited and walked him back to his place so his mom wouldn't find out. And when Puck got in trouble for fighting in school, Finn was always there to plead his case with Figgins or whoever else got involved.
Puck liked that. And there was no way in hell he was letting it slip away without a damn good fight.
So he inched his way across the floor, occasionally pausing to grip at the bloody pulp of his kneecap. The smoke was making it so hard to see, so instead of searching Puck just crawled blindly towards the sound of Finn's voice, which was growing steadily weaker by the minute.
"Finn," he choked out, coughing into his shirt. "Hudson, hold on OK? I'm comin'."
Behind him, he could hear crashing as the flames attacked various items of glassware and kitchen equipment. He flinched only slightly as the flames licked hungrily at his ankles, melting the soles of his sneakers so that they stuck to the floor when he tried to move. With brutish force, he tugged himself free and continued towards Finn's dark, hulking form.
The taller boy was hunched over, bent almost double as he wheezed. Flames blocked his exit, but there was a small area through which escape was possible. Finn, however, was panicking. He wheeled around wildly, eyes spinning and rolling in their sockets, and couldn't seem to stumble towards that small patch of solitude. Puck hitched his shirt up over his nose again and beat the flames back. He rose unsteadily to his feet, an agonised hiss sliding through his clenched teeth as his knee buckled beneath his weight, and staggered with clumsy intent to Finn's side.
"I've got you Hudson," he growled, his hands fisting in Finn's t-shirt to keep him upright. Somehow he managed to drag the tall teen through the small gap in the flames and the two of them collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily but somehow, miraculously, alive.
/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/
Will woke groggily. For a moment he could see nothing, but then his vision settled and pain flared in his temple. Putting a shaking hand to his head, he realised that he was bleeding. He must have bashed his head on something when the ceiling caved in.
The ceiling...
"Finn!" he called. "Puck, Mercedes, anyone?"
"Mr Schue, we're here! Me and Finessa, we're OK" a faint voice called above the roar of the flames, which were beginning to die down now.
"Puck?"
"No, it's Miley fucking Cyrus," the other voice called back, and Will was so relieved to hear the mohawked teen's voice that he didn't care that the boy was swearing up a storm. He heaved out a huge sigh and ran a hand through his tight curls, a grateful smile playing on his features.
"Is Finn alright?"
"Well he's kinda pale, and he's not really awake... but he's breathing, so I figure that's good. We can't get out though, so I'm gonna try to shift some of this crap and find a way through."
Will started to say that he would help, but another voice cut him off, this one smaller and more pained than Puck's exuberant cursing.
"Will..."
He followed the sound of the faint voice and felt himself sway on the spot. Terri was lying flat on her back, pinned to the ground by a splintered, charred wooden beam. Her large eyes swam with tears and she was shaking from head to foot.
"Shit," Will murmured, all thought of Puck's potty mouth gone out the window. No matter what had just happened, he had shared a life with Terri for sixteen years. He knew every detail of her appearance, he knew that the only thing that made her feel better when she was ill was a gift card for Pottery Barn, he knew that she always cried when she watched a Disney movie... She had been his wife, and before that she had been the girl he loved. And now here she was, trapped in the rubble of a ruined kitchen unit. It wasn't right. No matter what Terri had done, she didn't deserve to die like this. The woman was deranged, insane. She needed help. "Terri, it's going to be OK."
Quickly, Will rushed to her side. A sheen of sweat coated Terri's sharp brow and she was breathing in shuddering, gasping pulses. One hand was trapped beneath the beam, while the other reached longingly for Will's hand. She smiled dazedly.
"Will..."
"Terri, everything's going to be fine," Will told her, careful to keep his tone smooth and reassuring. "Somebody's bound to have seen the smoke, the emergency services will be on their way here right now. We're going to get you some help, alright?"
"They're coming?" Terri repeated faintly. She pulled Will's face close to hers and stroked his cheek. It scared Will that her touch still brought him a sense of comforting familiarity.
"Yeah Terri, they're coming."
"Well then," she said slowly, drawing herself up onto her elbow. "I guess I need to speed things up a bit."
In the blink of an eye, she had slid her supposedly trapped arm out from under the beam and slashed at Will's chest with a razor-sharp pocket knife. The teacher howled in pained anger and fell back, giving her the chance she needed to strike. In a flash, the honey-haired blonde was on top of him, her strong lean arms pinning him into submission. She straddled him and traced the slash in his shirt with her index finger.
"Always so naive Will," she sighed, almost regretfully.
"Terri please, you don't have to-"
"I should have known you wouldn't understand," she spat. "You never understand Will. You didn't understand why I needed those mahogany toilet brush holders, or why I tried to buy that Fabray girl's baby, so how could I expect you to understand this?"
"Terri-"
"This is getting boring now Will," she drawled. "So I hope you'll forgive me for cutting our brief reunion short."
Will squirmed beneath her, but Terri was stronger than her somewhat scrawny physique suggested. She wielded her knife with all the precision of a surgeon and grinned wickedly before-
BANG.
Terri gave a tiny gurgling gasp and looked down at the blood seeping through her jacket with wide eyes.
"This was genuine leather," she whispered, and then she was gone.
Will flung himself away from what had once been his wife and glanced around wildly. Kurt stood a couple of feet away, his face paler even than usual and trembling violently. He looked as though he might be sick and he tossed the smoking gun away from himself with an irrepressible shudder.
/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/
"Hudson," Puck grunted, jabbing furiously at Finn's prone form. "Finn, come on man, you gotta stay awake."
"'M all tired and sleepy..."
"That's the smoke inhalation dumb-ass," Puck said, but his voice held none of its usual teasing brusqueness. "Stay awake buddy, OK? Please?"
Finn coughed weakly but managed to shrug himself into a sitting position, propped up sloppily against the wall. Puck was forcing himself to move heavy pieces of wood and rubble, pausing every so often to massage his bloodied kneecap and shift his weight onto the other leg. Finn moved to help, but his head was spinning.
"Don't," Puck managed to growl out through gritted teeth. "I think you hit your head or somethin' when this place went up. You might have like a concussion or somethin', so just sit still. I can do this. I'll get you out."
"Puck..."
"Just let me do it, OK?" Puck snapped furiously. He turned to face Finn, breathing heavily. "Please? I-I've fucked things up pretty bad between us and I... just let me do it, OK? Berry'd probably castrate me if I let you play the hero and end up killing yourself."
His tone was joking, stoic, typical Puck, but Finn could see the pain in his eyes. He had spent so long being mad with Puck over what happened to Quinn, but in the back of his mind he'd always known that he regretted it the moment it had happened. Finn knew that Puck liked Quinn- he'd let it slip once when he'd had a few too many at Mike's post-game party- but he had always honoured the fact that she was Finn's girlfriend. Finn knew in his heart that Puck would never have intentionally hurt him; the thing with Quinn was spontaneous, spur of the moment, and above all a mistake. Puck was like Finn in that respect- he just didn't think. And now here he was, trying so desperately to do something heroic, to make it up to him. He knew that Puck didn't really care whether he himself made it out- Quinn was gone, and Puck had always held a torch for her, maybe even loved her- but he could see that he was determined to get him out alive. Finn coughed again and smiled dazedly.
"Dude," he said, his voice hoarse and grating from the smoke. "You know I forgive you, right? For everything?"
Puck stared at him for one long moment, and Finn noticed that his eyes were suspiciously red-rimmed. Were those tears? He wasn't sure if he should pat his friend on the back, or maybe give him a hug, but thankfully Puck made that decision for him. He ran his fingers through his Mohawk and sniffed audibly.
"Dude, I think Hummel's rubbing off on you. Sit still and try not to gay the place up too much while I get us out of here."
His tone was stoic and brusque again, but Finn could see the smile playing on his lips as he turned back towards the rubble.
/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/
"I-I didn't mean to," Kurt whispered, staring in horror at Terri's limp form. "I- she was- and the gun was just lying there..."
"Kurt," said Will, clambering to his feet and hurrying to place his hands on the small boy's shoulders. "You did the right thing. You saved my life."
Kurt nodded as though trying to convince himself of the truth of these words.
"I've never hurt anyone before," he said softly. "I'm always the one on the receiving end..."
Will smiled sadly and looked Kurt up and down. The fashionista was a mess; his hair was rumpled, there was soot on his cheeks and his clothes were ruined beyond salvation. There was blood spreading across his abdomen, in spite of the crude bandage he had fashioned for himself.
"Kurt, you're hurt," he said weakly. "You need to-"
"I need to get to Finn," Kurt finished with a shake of his head. "I need to get him out, I promised- I need to, where..."
"He and Puck are trapped on the other side of the caved in beams," said Will, realising that Kurt would not be dissuaded. At once the teenager rushed towards the pile of rubble, attempting to find a way through.
"Finn?" he called desperately. "Finn are you alright?"
"We're both here Hummel," Puck called back through the thick mass of wreckage. "And Frankenteen's doin' OK."
"Oh thank God," Kurt breathed, glancing skyward with relief. "Hold tight, the emergency services are bound to be here soon."
"I'm tryin' to get some of this crap out of the way."
"No, be careful!" exclaimed Kurt. "You could cause it to cave in altogether, you'd both be buried."
"Hummel, if we wait much longer I won't be able to keep Finn awake. I think he's got a concussion or somethin', and Coach Tanaka always says you have to keep people awake when that happens, but he's fading."
For the first time, Kurt heard a note of genuine fear in Puck's voice. He exchanged glances with Will and the pair of them began to heave pieces of wood and appliances aside.
"Rachel," Kurt called into the darkness. "Rachel, Matt and Mercedes, are they...?"
There was a long pause and then Rachel's high, clear voice filtered through the debris, stuffy and adenoidal.
"They- they're OK, I think," she called back in a tired, broken voice. "They're breathing a bit better now, but these burns... I shudder to think what pain they'll be in i- when they wake up."
The unspoken if hung in the tense air between them.
"Come in here and help," Kurt instructed her. "Finn and Puck are stuck behind all this debris, we need as many hands as possible to get them out."
The words were barely out of his mouth when Rachel came tearing back into the building in a streak of brown hair and hideous tartan skirt. Her small face was set with determination and she set to work without a word, tugging at brick and rubble with the same passion she put into every glee club performance. It was at times like these that Kurt couldn't help but admire Rachel Berry.
"Noah," she called pompously. "Noah, you keep him awake, you hear me? And Finn, I swear, you better stay with us or I promise I will start singing Grease songs. I know you hate that musical."
"'s cause you're kinda scary when you sing it," said Finn listlessly, and Rachel gave a startled gasp of laughter.
"You're coming back to me Finn Hudson," she told him firmly. "I swear, I-"
The sound of sirens echoed in the distance.
"You hear that guys?" Will called to the two boys on the other side of the divide. "They're coming. We'll get you out real-"
CREAK.
Paralysed by fear, Kurt managed to shoot a glance towards the ceiling. The last remaining beam had been almost completely severed and was only barely managing to hold up its own weight. It creaked again, and Kurt knew what was going to happen a split second before it did.
"FINN!" he screamed, but it was too late.
The beam fell with a resounding crash on the other side of the rubble. There was silence. Kurt and Rachel immediately began to tear wildly at the rubble with frantic desperation. Will stood still, staring fearfully at the wall of wreckage between them and the two boys.
"Finn? Puck?"
/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/
"Finn," Puck said wildly as his eyes sprang open. He was pinioned beneath the heavy beam and with a thrill of agony he realised that it was poking through his side. He hissed and tried to move, but found himself unable to. "FINN!"
He twisted, craning his neck to catch sight of his best friend. What he saw made his stomach plummet.
Finn too was trapped beneath the beam, but unlike Puck his face was not contorted in pain. He wore an almost peaceful expression, and a trickle of blood was coming from the corner of his mouth.
"Finn," Puck choked out, terror gripping him in a stranglehold. The other boy made a deathly, gurgling noise.
"Puck..."
"I'm here man, OK, I'm here. Just hold tight," Puck told him in a tense voice. "You're gonna be alright, the ambulance is on the way, it's-"
But Finn was shaking his head tiredly. He looked Puck right in the eye.
"No... good..." he managed to murmur dizzily. "Tell... Rachel... you tell her..."
"Dude, no," Puck choked out, grabbing for his friend with his free hand. He grabbed at Finn's big sweaty palm, not caring about how gay it looked anymore.
"Please... tell her..."
"Dude, you don't get to chicken out on me, OK? You- you don't... you can't..."
"You... tell her..." Finn repeated firmly, and Puck found himself nodding. Tears were spilling down his cheeks again, and he didn't care who saw.
"I'll tell her man," he said, and at these words Finn's expression relaxed. He closed his eyes and smiled.
"You always were an awesome friend behind it all..."
A sob tugged itself from Puck's chest. He squeezed Finn's hand, but got no response.
He was gone.
"Finn?"
"Puck?"
Voices. Voices calling him. Calling Finn. But Finn was...
"No," he called back, the word hurting him more than that 200-pund linebacker from Carmel High in the last game of the season. "Just me. Just me now."
/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/
Puck's words hung in the air. Kurt, on hearing it, had simply stared for a moment before sliding down to the floor. He curled up in a ball as though he was trying to hold himself together. Silent tears slipped down his face. Will kept running his hands through his hair and asking questions that nobody had the energy to answer. Puck lay trapped on the other side of the debris, staring at Finn's body without really seeing it. He couldn't stop crying.
And Rachel...
Rachel did nothing at all. She merely stood there, staring blankly at the debris through which Puck's voice had filtered, relaying the news. She felt numb. This was some sort of nightmare, it had to be. Finn was... Finn. Goofy and clumsy and constant. He couldn't be- she couldn't even think the word. She swayed slightly on the spot, oblivious to Kurt's tears and Mr Schue's questions and Puck's whispering. All she could see was that face, that ridiculous lopsided grin, those awkwardly endearing dance moves. Finn.
And then, from nowhere, a laugh.
Well, more like a bitterly triumphant shriek. Rachel was shaken from her reverie and looked to the door.
"Is he dead?" Jacob asked hopefully. His hair was matted with blood and his glasses had shattered beyond repair, but he was alive. He was alive, and Finn... Finn was... "I said, is he dead? ANSWER ME!"
Nobody even had the heart to defy him. Kurt stayed curled up in his cocoon and Puck continued to whisper to himself. Rachel just stared, but Will managed a nod. Jacob's face split into a truly malevolent grin. He rubbed his hands together and turned to Rachel.
"You see Rachel," he said gleefully. "We can have our happy ending after all."
In shock, nobody could react to him. Nobody could attack him or punch him or spit in his face. It seemed that with Finn gone, they had given up the ghost.Finn was their leader, the male lead, the quarterback. He was the one who took charge when times got hard, not Mr Schue or even Rachel. Without him, all their fight seemed to have evaded them.
The sirens wailed outside. They were coming closer. Help was coming. Days too late.
"I always knew things would work out for us," Jacob continued happily. His eyes were wide with insanity. "Even with that bumbling Neanderthal always in the way, I knew."
Rachel nodded decisively and took a step towards him.
"He was always hogging your attention, stringing you along, but I knew my time would come. And now that buffoon is finally out of the way and-"
"Jacob," Rachel said, her voice betraying no hint of emotion.
"Yes?"
"You do not get to speak that way about him. Finn was brave and- and kind and... and good. He was everything you aren't and it is your fault that the boy I loved, the one person who made me feel really special, is gone. It is your fault Jacob."
And with this last, she bent, picked up the gun which Kurt had dropped earlier and shot Jacob Ben Israel square between the eyes. Then she turned with supreme poise and went to Kurt's side, the numbness returning.
It was only when the emergency services arrived, shouting for paramedics and asking questions, that the reality of what had happened finally began to fall into place.
The numbness disappeared.
The grieving and pain began.
/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/
That's it. Just the epilogue to go. I'd love to hear what people thought... Please?