Chapter Twenty-Six: The One.
XXVI: And in this crazy life, and through these crazy time, it's you, it's you, you make me sing. You're every line, you're every word, you're everything.
September 2015.
(Five years later.)
"Hold still, Rach, you're going to give me an aneurysm," Kurt complains, trying to fix the hem of her dress with great difficulty. Looking like the stereotypical picture of a designer, he has several pins sticking out the corner of his mouth and tuts to himself with every movement she woman makes.
Rachel has the grace to look abashed, "I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm just worried, I never—"
"It'll be glorious, don't worry," He assures her, "It's only a slight tear. Hardly anyone would notice if we left it." The dress is actually his creation, and he would be damned if he let her walk down the aisle without it looking positively pristine. When he's looking admiringly and lovingly at Rachel, it's not her he's admiring, it's his flawless handiwork. It's the most stunning dress he's ever created.
It had to be, he supposes. Something something family is important.
A blonde woman clears her throat, "I'm so sorry, Rachel, I didn't mean to stand on your dress, and I promise to remain ten feet from you for the rest of the day,"
Rachel winks at her, "Just until after the ceremony," At Quinn's blush, she waves her off, "Don't be silly, it as an accident, and Kurt's magic fingers are able to fix it. Stop worrying. " Quinn only nods, choosing to keep her guilt-ridden thoughts to herself. Kurt should probably apologise to her later, he may have been a bit cold over the whole debacle. It hadn't strictly been her fault that when she stepped out of the limo, her foot landed on the back of Rachel's dress, who unaware continued to walk away.
They're both idiots, really.
"Please, Fabray, she lives for this kind of drama on her wedding day. As long as the groom doesn't go running off, Rachel is game ball for the drama," Santana tells her dryly, sipping what has to be her third cocktail of the day already.
Rather than be offended, Rachel nods happily, "I'm not even mad. She's right."
The four of them are gathered in the brides sideroom, putting the finishing touches to Rachel's makeup and hair (and now dress) before calling her Dads to walk her down the aisle. Kurt had almost been annoyed at being paired off with the girls, but now, thinking on it, he's much more at home here than with whatever the boys are doing.
Brittany breezes back into the room, taking a seat on the arm of Santana's chair, "Everyone's ready. You look beautiful, Rachel."
Quinn nods, "You really do. Oh, god, I'm getting emotional," She pulls a tissue from her bag, dabbing delicately at the corners of her eyes, trying not to ruin the makeup.
"No tears." Kurt says forcefully, eyeing the bridesmaid dresses with worry. He can't help feeling a bit emotional when he looks at Rachel though, glowing with happiness as she steps down from the chair to be eye level with him. Well, a little shorter than eye level. She hugs him tightly, so rapidly that he's completely unprepared.
"Woah, Rachel."
"Thank you so much, I couldn't have done this without you." She steps back, looking around the room, "Without any of you."
"You mean Quinn. Brittany and I have had zero input." Santana states, smiling a little. She and Brittany don't even live in New York anymore, but instead live in London. Santana likes to joke about the sexual liberalisation in Europe, but they all know she loves being with Brittany and having a clean slate there. They've made a life across the pond, one that all of them have enjoyed visiting.
Although she'll never lose what makes her Santana, Kurt never thought he'd ever see her so happy. Smiling, joking, my god, sometimes she can even be warm towards you now.
"Yes, well, when are you ever any help, Santana?" Rachel asks lightly, their rivalry alive and well. She leaves him then and wraps her arms around her maid of honour.
"Oh, no, Rachel," The other woman replies in horror, "Please don't be emotional with me right now."
"Okay," She pouts, looking distinctly disappointed she can't put on the theatrics. Without pause, Rachel bends down and places her hands on Quinn's slightly rounded stomach, "Hello again, my future prodigy godchild, feel free to make your Mommy cry a little at my ceremony today. "
Quinn pushes her best friend, but is smiling broadly at the interaction.
Kurt's slightly envious of Quinn and Rachel's glow, both emanating it for very different reasons as Rachel has no bun in the oven he's aware of, and he would definitely be aware. They both found people they were truly happy with, and next to Santana and Brittany, he could throw up from all the sunshine in his friends lives.
Not really. He is thrilled for them. They deserve it. Rachel and Finn had been dancing forever, it's about time they finally admit they're practically destined to be together. Quinn and Puck had their first child together and rather bravely gave her away to have a better life. Now, they're doing it for real and their announcement was met with screams of joy rather than commiserations.
Kurt has learned how to be his own person, too. He doesn't need someone to hold his hand or tell him everything's okay. For the first time in his life, he's okay with being alone, he's happy being independent and free. His freetime is his alone, his choices are his to make and his clothes are his biggest passion.
"I don't know, Rachel, I would definitely take a crack at Jesse if I were single," He hears Santana say. Rachel and Quinn exchange amused glances, and comically Quinn reaches slowly for Santana's glass.
"I think you've had enough for now." They all laugh. He wonders what kind of panic the groom and his groomsmen are in.
"No! Not that way, I told you to follow me!" Finn complains loudly, hunched over in his chair.
Puck groans like a child, "I didn't want to go your way." With that, the controller previously in Finn's hand is chucked at his best man. Dodging it expertly, Puck only laughs, "Rachel would have been so pissed if you gave me a black eye. Don't you know I'm the eye candy at this thing?"
"Yeah? Does your pregnant girlfriend know that? Dumbass." Finn grins at his friend despite his words, and turns off the TV and the Xbox. Glancing at his watch, he fidgets noiselessly, bouncing on the soles of his feet. "I wish it could just be time, this is dragging on forever."
Blaine pats his back, "It'll be fine, once you see her, all your fears will disappear." Finn can only nod in response, the thought of seeing Rachel out there already leaving him speechless. He knows she's going to look spectacular; like an angel coming to his salvation.
Being with Rachel over the past four years has been genuinely the happiest time of his life. After all the trials and tribulations in school (and fumbles with Puck and Quinn), their struggle to be on the same page in adulthood, they finally got their act together and told each other the truth. He wonders why it took so long, because, wow, it's the best feeling he's ever had. She makes every moment one of effortless joy. He thinks that if he were to do nothing with his life but be Rachel Berry's husband, he would die a happy man.
Mike clears his throat, "It's time, man. Have you got the rings, Puck?"
He pats his pockets down, becoming more frantic by the second, "I swear I had them a second ago," Finn's heart rate starts to accelerate as fear sets in: Oh, Jesus Christ, no. If he has forgotten the ring, Finn quite seriously wonders whether he'll be able to punch Puck and get him to find the rings quickly afterwards.
Rachel will kill him. She's supposed to be the late, awaited one, not him.
"Puck, I swear to God…" He grinds out, frowning darkly.
Mike fishes the rings from his own pocket then, "You left these on the kitchen table."
Feeling too relieved to be angry at either one of them, Finn hits his best man upside the head, "Nice job, man."
Puck shrugs, "They're here, aren't they?"
The last few years with Quinn have stood to Noah Puckerman. He stands a bit taller now, shows a little humility, thinks about consequences and has been preparing to be a Dad for much longer than the last few months. He had gone back to school to get a diploma to teach and joined Finn in the world of snotty teenagers and bratty kids. Puck's job was limited to the football team though, a job Finn envied without any subtlety.
Mike rolls his eyes at his friend, and Blaine interjects, "At least they're here. We better get moving before Rachel has a fit. But fiiirst, Puck and I have something,"
Seemingly out of his arse, Blaine produces four shot glassed filled with something suspicious.
After they had all been handed out, Blaine raises his and toasts, "To Finchel!"
With strict orders to check on the groom and the other boys, Kurt had been banished from the room by the bride. Sulking a little, he strides down the hallway towards where the men of the party are. As he rounds the corner, Kurt finds himself entangled with a warm body. Feeling stupid, and a little irritated, Kurt immediately begins checking his suit for dirt.
"I'm so sorry, I was just rushing to check on the bride and didn't - Kurt?" The voice sounds surprised, and Kurt tries to pin where he knows that voice. He has certainly salivated over it before, he's almost positive.
Glancing up, Kurt is thrown back nearly six years, when he first lay eyes on the man in front of him. A barrage of feelings assault him from that period, ones of humiliation, rejection and hurt. Also of friendship, warmth and love. He tries not to let himself get swept away in the gaze of this charming and charismatic and - god, was he always so beautiful? "Um, hey, Blaine." Great. He sounds like a twelve year old.
"Were you with Rachel? It's been so long since I saw you, how are you? You look fantastic. Rachel says you designed her wedding dress and it's a cracker. How you managed that without ever showing your face around here is some feat," Kurt can tell by the way he rambles that he's not the only one feeling nervous. If Blaine is still feeling guilty that he rejected Kurt years ago, then he has to put to rest some unresolved tensions.
"Look, if you're still guilty over what happened, don't be. I'm over it."
Swiftly, Blaine moves closer, forcing the other man to look into his eyes, "Are you?" Kurt can almost hear a sense of hope in his tone. It can't be though, right? Blaine Anderson is as straight as they come. It seems as if he were thinking out loud, because Blaine's next words catch his attention, "I may have been wrong about a few things. You might have been on the mark with one very important thing."
Eyes widening, Kurt fails in maintaining any sort of tact, "You're gay?"
Smiling coyly, Blaine replies, "Maybe I'll see you later?" He runs his hand along Kurt's arm, leaving the fashion mogul speechless. "I'll tell Finn Rachel is ready."
He's gone then, and all Kurt can do is admire his bum until he disappears from view.
He's pictured the moment so many times in his dreams. When he was sixteen and dating Quinn, he woke up treacherously with the image of Rachel Berry in a wedding dress.
Throughout the years, it happened enough times that he has lost count. It became something that he accepted as naturally as breathing, and knew inherently that there was a reason he was dreaming about her as his wife.
Finn can safely say he never expected this. In all his wildest dreams, it did not come close to reality. Rachel walks towards him, unable to help herself from smiling broadly, and Finn wants to rush over and hold her tightly.
She does look like an angel. She looks like a dream, and in many ways, she is his dream. Rachel Berry has always been Finn Hudsons dream girl.
Finn can't help the laugh of delight that slips out of him, and he can tell Rachel is pleased by it. He briefly wonders if there are other universes out there in which this doesn't happen. Is there an alternate dimension where some Finn Hudson pines his life away, longing for this woman in love with another? The thought makes him sick. Or another world where Rachel Berry is tragically alone, missing a lover who was taken too early? He can't think of those. Finn has to cherish what he has here; a place where he and Rachel can be happy.
They'll be gloriously blissful. He sees her and he sees his lifetime laid out in front of him. This is who he is supposed to be, and who he can be this person with. Finn will watch adoringly as Rachel gives birth to their first child, and she'll curse him out because she is fond of the dramatics, but he'll stay strong beside her.
Finn imagines helping a little girl who has his nose and Rachel's eyes with her homework. He pictures nights of family fun, when Rachel tries persistently to get a five year old to take singing seriously, but will be ultimately amused by his and their daughters giggling.
The future is in their hands.
He takes his brides hand, and kisses the back of it, willing himself not to cry. Puck would never let him forget it.
"You look beautiful," He whispers to her, unaware as the priest speaks.
Rachel smiles, "Thank you. I love you."
Reaching to caress her face lightly, he ignores the priests impatient looks as he drones on, and breathes in, "I love you too. So much."
In that moment, Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry think they're the luckiest people in the world. In this world, they are.
A/N: Well, folks, that's it. I think it's about time, too. Thank you very much to any one who has stuck by this story, whether it be reading, reviewing, following, favouriting. Thank you very much.
For one last time, I do not own Glee or Friends. Nor do I own "Everything" by Michael Buble.
Cheers to you all,
CN.
Rae xo.