Author: AliasGrace07
Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. But I'd like to.
Title: Crossroads
Pairing: Puck & Rachel, Rachel and Finn
Genre: romance, humor, dash of angst, hope
AN: This is how I envision the 2x22 finale happening. How it should play out in my professional opinion. Check out the song that influenced my writing this: Marketa Irglova, "Crossroads," on youtube. Lyrics at end of fic. Also this is my first foray into fanfiction…..so be gentle.
Part I – You wake up from dreams
The gentle click of her heels against the cobblestone followed her as she walked along the empty NYC side street. The air was moist from rainfall and she wrapped her white shawl tightly around herself; she felt numb, not from cold but from what had just happened.
She had said no.
She had rejected the boy she was "in love" with.
Had turned her head away as his lowered towards her.
Why had she done that?
She felt herself become overwhelmed with doubt. Second guessing the decision she had made only 10 minutes earlier.
Her brows furrowed. Hadn't that moment been what she had been waiting for since that horrible episode buying Christmas trees? Hadn't she felt her heart shatter whenever she glimpsed him with Quinn?
But then the football game had happened Let's kick some ass
the party had happened Needy girl drunk
the celibacy club happened are you lost?
Regionals happened get it right
Her nose happened give me one hour of your time
Nationals happened I made it
She had to stop moving. Stop walking. Stop thinking. She knew the third option wasn't possible but the first two were. She sat down on a large stone stairwell; unmindful of getting dirt on her dress (she really was lost in thought). The staircase led up to a grand oak doorway with brass handles. The kind of doorway you see in the movies; where the main character struts out, wearing a flowy dress and 4 inch heels ready to take on the big city. The kind of doorway she would walk out of one day. She was sure of it. Staring at the doorway her self doubt slowly dissipated. She had made the right choice.
She looked away from the door and took in the cobblestone street and well manicured trees evenly spaced on the sidewalk. The antique-looking street lamps offered a gentle glow to the area, it wasn't harsh or blinding. It was perfect. The whole scene was.
Strange, considering she was alone in it. She looked down at her hands grasping the shawl in her lap and thought about what had just occurred.
The day had been perfect. The absolute dream date.
She had on a pretty blue dress, her hair styled perfectly. He was in a suit and when she saw him on a small bridge in Central Park, flowers in his hand as he awkwardly bounced from leg to leg, she had stopped and stared. It was like a fairytale. She thought she had stepped into a Disney Movie. He turned, gave one his signature lopsided smiles and she slowly took the flowers from him and placed her hand in his.
She had been so enchanted at the time that she had failed to notice the lack of a racing heart beat, no knots in her stomach, no overwhelming burning where his hand touched her skin.
She was caught up in her fairytale. She had wanted this so badly. Her brain screamed at her that this was right. This was how it was supposed to be. It had drowned out her heart.
There was a walk, sunshine, flowers, idle chatter, dinner, soft looks, and gentle touches. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
She felt nothing. There was a moment during dinner when he had reached across the table to lace his fingers with hers, the lighting of the restaurant creating a painfully romantic ambience, when she had looked down at their entwined hands, recognized the distinct lack of feeling associated with the touch but then shoved it aside forcefully, looked back up at him and felt her smile almost split her face. He smiled back. This was what she wanted. This was everything to her.
It was. It was. It had to be.
She was in New York City. Broadway! Her home away from home. Her Future. On a dream date with her dream boy.
…The thing is you wake up from dreams.
She had tried desperately to remain in the dream. Clinging to this perfect fairytale. Sitting on the steps, alone, in the present, she knew the exact moment she had woken up.
After dinner they walked in silence. She had a running chant in her head. Perfect Perfect Perfect Perfect Nothing Perfect
He had veered her down a cozy side street; her eyes, shining as she took in every detail; desperate to fill her senses with every inch of New York City.
"I'm going to live here," She had said with utter conviction. "That one," she pointed to one of the apartments with a large door, with glass panes and brass twisted into decorative shapes. There were flower boxes with fuchsia petunias spilling over the sides and above it, lace curtains peeked out the slightly opened window.
She looked up at him, only to find him distracted. He seemed to be looking for something further down the street.
"Is everything ok?"
"What? Yeah, no, everything's great," he said hurriedly. His eyes darted to her for a second before returning to search down the street again. A look of relief came over his features and she followed his gaze to the dark outline of a man holding, what looked to her to be a large black box.
She tightened her hold on his arm and as they got closer to the man casually leaning against the brick building, the feint yellow glow of the street lamp allowed her to finally recognize who it was. And instead of a box in his arms, it was an accordion.
When they were about 10 steps away from him, he brought his fingers to the keys on the side of the instrument and began to play…that was when her heart stopped.
"Oh my gosh…" She whispered. Her hand came up to cover her mouth in surprise.
He began to sing, his head down, seeming to concentrate on the instrument in his arms. As she got closer to him, she noticed the three other boys leaning, and in one case sitting, against the brick as well.
She couldn't take her eyes of him. But it seemed that he was resolute in not looking up.
They walked past the group and she realized the singers had started to follow her and the boy whose arm she was linked to. Serenading her as she walked down a New York City street. She closed her eyes and leaned into the boy.
What's funny is she hadn't looked up at him. Not once. Her eyes had roamed over the four boys who were serenading her, but she hadn't for one second looked up at the boy who she assumed organized the whole thing.
The song was nearing the end and as the final line was sung she twisted slightly to look behind her. The boy playing the according hadn't once looked up at her as she passed but at that moment, singing the final bella notte, his eyes found hers and a small smile formed in the corner of his mouth.
She turned back around and her eyes fell to her feet. Watching each slow step. She knew without seeing that the four boys had dispersed and she was now alone with her dream boy.
Problem was she had finally woken up. As if with the end of the song came the end of her dream.
The boy breathed a sigh of relief. "Did you like it?" He asked eagerly.
"It was beautiful," she whispered. "Perfect."
He grinned and looked in the direction the quartet had left. "Yeah, it was Puck's idea, strange enough."
Her mind had evaporated. Which was quite a feet seeing as it was usually so full of ideas, thoughts, feelings, songs, questions, insecurities that she literally had to work herself to exhaustion just to fall asleep every night.
She knew in a moment of clarity that it was over. The perfect date, the perfect boy, the perfect couple.
Her heart had taken over. She could finally hear it now that the noise from her brain was gone.
The boy who had given her her dream date had stopped walking and turned towards her, grasping her hands in his, oblivious to her revelation.
She can't really remember what he said. Maybe she didn't care to listen because she knew what was coming. It was predictable. Cliché, Romantic. What she wanted.
His head lowered and…
"No."
The boys eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Questions and worry filled his puppy dog eyes.
"Wha…" She lifted her hand to silence him, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"You were everything to me." At this admission, he smiled at her.
"And that's too much for you to be." The smile vanished.
"This," she said gesturing around, indicating the city, the apartments, the stars, her dreams, "this is everything to me. I want this. And I'm going to have this. And if you're my everything, than how can this place be my everything too? "
Short. Simple. To the point. Something she used to be good at but somewhere along the way had forgotten. It was back in full force now.
"I don't understand. I thought you wanted…what about at the show…when we kissed and stuff?"
She sighed. "I thought I wanted this too. And the show? I got lost in the moment, you could say, the performance, the audience, all the emotion. It was a wonderful kiss. But that's all it was. It was a show."
The silence of the street was broken only by the sounds of a police siren somewhere racing through the city.
He seemed to be struggling for words.
"This whole night was a dream come true. It was my dream date and I will never forget it. I felt special and chosen, by you. But now I get to choose."
She looked him right in the eye.
"And I choose me."
Judging by his expression, he still wasn't getting it. And she knew there was only one thing left to do. Something she was used to when it came to him.
She leaned up on her tip toes, kissed his cheek, and said with absolute sincerity," Thank you, Finn. Good night."
And she turned and walked away.
Rachel's eyes shone with tears, but they wouldn't fall. She wouldn't let them. Not this time.
End Part I.
"Crossroad" by Marketa Irglova
It remains to be seen to which side I'm gonna move
Which road will I choose and will I win or will I lose?
I'm gonna come to my senses and see the light.
I'm letting go.
What I want now is to do what's right
However right I know, I'm here on my own.
It's just a crossroad.
Is the light red or is it green?
Givin' me the signals, I really don't know what they mean…
If I was a temporary plan, if I could only take a look and we would find
How simple it all is. How much do I need all this?
Is enough not enough? And am I really in love or is it nothing but a test?
If you wanna try me, go ahead and be my guest.
For myself, I'd like to know which way will it go I see it's undecided so I'll take it slow but as I regain my sight, I know I will do what's right
Indeed it's just a crossroad, one that I'm willing to clearly see, see things for what they really are and what I'd like them to be
There's nothing left to think about and I know you now.
I've no more doubt that I'm goin'.
Will you at least, will you sing for me please?