A/N from Jann: We are still totally blown away by the response to this story and so grateful for all the support. It feels almost wrong to say how much fun I've had with something this twisty, but seriously, writing with my partner is the best thing ever. But honestly, thank you a thousand times for the follows, alerts, reviews, replies, reblogs, likes, etc. And um... you know. Keep 'em coming.

A/N from Jen: My amazingly articulate co-author has said it all. Thank you so much for supporting our dark and twisted endeavor. It truly has been so much fun to explore a darker Finn and Rachel while challenging ourselves to keep them in character. We hope you enjoy this chapter.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: No we do not own Glee, bet you are glad about that lol.

"Finn, please…please don't do this," she begged, holding Caleb in her arms.

"Don't do this? You…youdid this. You kept him from me," Finn growled as he lifted their bawling son from her arms.

"I know…I'm sorry, so sorry, but he…he doesn't know you. You're a stranger to him." She tugged at his arm, only to step back when she saw the unadulterated venom in his eyes.

"And whose fault is it that my own son doesn't know me?"

She knew he was right. It was her fault, but Caleb was her son; he was her life and he was dying. She couldn't lose him. Not now. She was going to lose him anyway, but she wasn't ready for it to happen yet—and she didn't want it to be like this.

"Finn, please don't take him. Please. He is sick. He…he needs me."

"He doesn't need you. He'll have me–his father."

Rachel shook her head, the tears pouring down her face. She would have done anything to turn back the clock. She would have given anything to go just go back and make him listen all those years ago. She could do that retroactively if she wished hard enough, couldn't she? Just…just will a new today into existence? She blinked and knew there was no way. She was here. It was now. This was happening.

"Finn, he's terrified. Just, please…at least let me say goodbye to him. Let me explain that I love him and you…" she pled with him, stumbling a little and almost falling to her knees. "He's all I have left of…you…of us."

"You…you did this to all of us. You should have told me!" His voice was ice and he was stroking their son's sandy brown hair. She inched forward slowly towards them.

"I…I know and I tried Finn. I did; you wouldn't listen to me," she cried.

"When did you try to tell me? Was it when you were screwing my ex-best friend? After, maybe?"

Rachel shook her head and grabbed his arm. "No, I never slept with him—not once. The night you found us I was so sick. He…he found me in the bathroom and helped me to bed. He was scared for me because I…I thought I was dying and you…you were never around and we couldn't reach you. He stayed with me, said he'd stay until you came home and he fell asleep. I swear. I never was with him. Why won't you believe me?" She said, finally breaking down in front of him. "I didn't…I…I…could never betray you like that, but you so easily believed the worst of me…I…I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but please…please don't punish me by taking away our baby, please."

She saw him look at their son and blink back tears. Maybe she had gotten through to him…maybe.

"Well, even if it's true you were never intimate with him, you still lied. You still kept my son from me and gave him Puck's name…no, you…you will never see him again."

Her world was crumbling around her and all she could do was watch him take her baby…take her life. She finally felt her knees go weak as she fell to the ground sobbing.

"Please, please don't take him…please…please, Finn, I…I'm sorry…"

She woke up to the feel of his familiar warm hands gently stroking her hair.

"Rach, wake up…please…I'm not taking anyone away, please wake up," he whispered over and over again. Once she even sort of realized what was going on, it startled her enough that she sat up and curled away from him, clutching the blanket tightly and balled into her fist right at her throat.

"What…where's Caleb?" She demanded, disoriented and terrified.

He had taken her child and now…

Oh, God; it was a nightmare and now he was staring at her in complete shock.

"Rachel, I…I, who's Caleb?"

Rachel shook her head and stumbled to her feet. "No one. I…I had a dream and…no one. I need to take a shower," she stammered as she bolted for the bathroom; he was faster. He hovered over her, holding the door shut with one hand.

"That was no dream. You were begging me not to take Caleb and saying how sorry you were, over and over. I…I think I have the right to know what's up with all this."

She couldn't tell him. She knew her dream was a premonition and he would take their son (the son whom she was risking everything for, the son she loved more than life itself) from her.

He couldn't have him. That's all there was to it.

"You…you gave up the right to know anything about my life when you tossed me aside. Now let me go," she said, choking on tears she refused to cry.

He spun her to face him with a gentle hand on her arm and searched her eyes. "What are you so fucking afraid of?"

She turned her face and shook her head. "Nothing. I…I just had a bad dream and you're overcomplicating it. Caleb isn't anyone you need to worry about, so can…can you please drop it?"

He stepped back and stabbed his fingers through his hair. "Does he know about Caleb?"

Rachel stared at him, confusion plain on her face. "Who are you talking about?"

"You know damned well who I'm talking about! Does Puck know about this Caleb guy?"

She swallowed hard and looked him right in the face as she answered. "Yes. He knows all about him. Is that what you want to hear? Noah and I live together, Finn. Of course he knows and he…he has…" She struggled in a strangled whisper.

He cut her off when he grabbed her shoulders. He wasn't hurting her, wasn't holding too hard, but his grasp was firm enough he was looking straight at her and straight through her.

"He what?" He choked out, his face now only a breath away from hers. She tried to turn away, but he was too close.

He needed these answers; he knew he needed them because he needed to get the fuck over it already and he couldn't do that unless he knew the whole story. He'd been going back and forth all night, dancing on a dangerous line. He was too unguarded around her, too confused to keep up appearances, and he was so tired of trying to figure out what it all meant. He couldn't figure anything out until he had all the pieces to work with.

"Please, please don't do this. It isn't going to change anything."

He held her firm. "Do you love him?" He asked hoarsely.

It was just too much, he knew it was too much, because the emotions were too raw and too real. He knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't stop himself. And he wasn't going to let up until she just answered him. He already knew the answer, but he had to hear it from her if he had any hope of getting through all this at some point. Basically, that was like the only thing he knew was true.

Well…that and maybe he'd been a tad stupid years ago. Stupid to fall in love. Stupid to trust her. Stupid to marry her.

He just needed to know if he'd been stupid to let her walk away; fuck that—he basically pushed her away as hard as he could. He thought it'd been for his survival, but now he just had no idea. He didn't know if he could survive the words leaving her mouth. He didn't know if he would survive if she didn't just admit it already. All he knew was that she was begging with her eyes before she begged in words.

"Finn, please…"

"Do you?" His grip on her tightened a little, more of a squeeze than a hold. She saw from the pained look on his face that he already knew the answer. They were pressed together so tightly she felt his inhale and his muscles clench like he was just bracing himself.

"Yes. I…I love him," she admitted, knowing her expression must have mirrored his in some way. She expected him to pull away, to walk away. She needed him to, but he didn't. Instead, his hands left her shoulders and moved her face, the touch more tender than she thought he could manage with as wound up as he was.

"Like you loved me?" His voice was tender, too; it was broken. She wanted to lie because she knew that would basically be the end of it. She should have lied, but when she looked in his eyes, she saw all the vulnerability laid bare; he was the same boy she fell in love with somewhere down in there, mixed in with everything else.

"No," she finally admitted, the word barely even a whisper it was so soft. She knew he was going to kiss her and she knew it would change everything. He closed the minuscule gap between them, brushing his lips against hers with a feather light touch; if she hadn't actually seen it and felt it, she might have thought she imagined it.

"Tell me who he is," he breathed as his fingers traced her jaw, nudging her lips apart, so he could gently kiss each one. She could have told him and dealt with the consequences, but her fear was too real, so palpable it had the power to dictate her actions. She couldn't take the risk, not when she was close to saving her son.

"I…I can't. Please understand," she begged. He swallowed hard and stepped back.

She saw the change as his features hardened and she knew she'd lost him again—at least the part of him she recognized. All she could see was pain; pain she was putting there.

"I'm sorry," she said. Even watching him shut down, she knew all her emotions were right on the surface. She was begging him to understand.

He shook his head and silently walked to his bag, still not answering and now apparently even unwilling to make eye contact.

"Wait, where are you going?" She asked, panic-stricken. He couldn't walk out on her. The one saving grace in everything was he hadn't actually walked away from her. He had been cold and unyielding and a thousand other things, but he'd never walked away. He had stayed basically right where she left him.

"This was a mistake. I…I…I have to go," he said, unable to look at her. He knew what she would see if he did, and he couldn't admit the hurt or anything else. He had to just keep a hard line and if he looked at her again, he would fucking lose it. And he wasn't even sure what it was anymore.

"But…but, you can't…please, I…need…" She stammered.

"You need the money, right? Don't worry; a deal is a deal and I still know how to keep promises or whatever the fuck you'd call it. A contract, maybe? Doesn't matter, I'll wire it to you. I'll have my secretary call you on Monday and we won't have to speak ever again." He replied, his voice finally cracking as he spoke the last part. The only part he didn't want to be true. The part he needed to be true now more than ever.

"Finn, please, please don't do this, don't walk away, not now…not yet." She knew he should; she knew it was safer for him to go but she didn't want to lose him. Not yet. It was too late and too soon and just too much.

"I…I can't go through this with you again," he wavered and then barked as he shoved the remaining belongings into the bag with as much force as he knew the leather could take.

"Go through what again, exactly? I didn't do what you accused me of back then, so I don't…"

"You broke me. I'm totally messed up…totally fucked because of you. Don't you get it? You…God, I…I thought I could do this, so I could finally move on and maybe just feel something, but I don't…I don't want to feel. It hurts too much and I can't breathe and I can't think and so I'll give you the divorce and the money as promised and I'm just out. I can't breathe. I…goodbye, Rachel."

She stood frozen as he headed to the door and suddenly it seemed all too familiar. It felt too much like repeating a mistake. She was more afraid of failure than she was of talking.

"Wait! I..I'll tell you." She shouted then shrunk back against the wall. Did she really want to risk everything in the hopes he might not walk away?

"Everything about everyone… including Caleb?" He asked softly. There was no mistaking his forceful undertone, though. It was fight or flight and he was barely even giving her one more chance for the first one.

"Yes, I…I 'll tell you everything, but you have to promise to listen, Finn." When he turned around and then opened his mouth to argue, she held up her hand. "I mean really listen. No more assumptions. No interruptions. Just the truth."

He nodded and slowly reentered the room taking the seat across from the couch. He dropped his bag to the ground but left his hand clasped around the handles, and when he sat, he was crouched right on the edge of the coffee table and his posture was so tense it looked as though he might spring up at any second if she said something he didn't like.

"So, who's Caleb?" He asked as she sat down on the couch, across from him. Even his jaw was so tense it barely moved to form the words to yet another question he didn't really want to ask her and the words tasted wrong leaving his tongue. He swallowed the nauseous anticipation back down and fought to steady his breathing while he wanted for her answer.

She ran her hands over her face and wiped away more tears. God, would she ever stop crying?

"First, I need you to understand that I never slept with Noah." He sucked in a sharp breath, and brought his head up, making intense, painful eye contact.

"I know what I saw," he managed. He was asking her to explain even though he couldn't actually form the question again.

Rachel swallowed and decided, since he was sort of actually listening, she needed to ease him into the truth. The whole truth. Nothing but the truth; but could God really even help her now?

"No, you know what you assumed you saw. Do you remember me telling you I was sick?"

He nodded in acknowledgment. "You said you had the flu."

Rachel sighed and continued. "Yes, and when I said I was sick, I meant I was ill to the point I honestly thought I was dying. I couldn't hold anything down for weeks, Finn, and…and well the night you found me in bed with Noah, he'd found me all but unconscious on the bathroom floor."

"Are you telling me he took advantage of you? Is that actually your defense?" He spat out in disbelief.

She rubbed her temples, feeling another tension headache building. "No," she breathed. "He didn't take advantage of me. He never would have done that to you. Well, to either of us, really." He scoffed, but she continued. "He found me passed out because I hadn't been able to eat anything in days and he took care of me because…"

"Because why?" He countered. She was starting to feel sick.

"Because you weren't around, Finn—you were never around."

"I was working my ass off so we could get the hell out of that shitty apartment. Remember that? It's not like I was out just fucking off, Rachel."

"I…I know, and I also know you were going to school, but it doesn't change the fact that I…I needed you. I…" She said. She hesitated, not sure how much to admit when he was still so openly skeptical, and he took the opportunity to break in.

"If I remember correctly, you were in that stupid play, right? Wasn't it that one where you took your clothes off on stage?"

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. He would never believe her.

"Finn, it was just a show. It was my first real run and I didn't take my clothes off. I…I if you aren't going to listen, then why are we rehashing this? Are you going to hear me out or…?"

"No, go on," he grumbled.

She nodded and her eyes closed slightly. She hated these headaches and they seemed to come on more and more frequently these days. He must have noticed because she felt the couch dip slightly as he sat down next to her.

"Are….are you okay?" He asked softly, his fingers brushing against her forehead.

"Mmmm…yea, I….that feels nice," she sighed as he maneuvered her into his lap.

This was the man she fell in love with. He wouldn't take Caleb.

"I didn't strip, Finn; it was a very quick, minor scene and I always wore the bodice. I was never naked."

"It didn't stop…it doesn't matter anymore. Just keep going."

"I wanted you to be the first to know, but you weren't there; even when Noah tried calling you, your cell was off and…"

"What did you want me to know?" He asked, his voice low and right next to her ear. "I was in meetings because I was actually getting my first client. You know how busy it was for me. I wasn't, like, avoiding you guys or anything."

"I…I know and I tried to be understanding, I really did, but when you were home we fought and you stopped wanting to make love to me and I…I'm sorry I didn't try hard enough to get through to you, but…" She said, her voice slipping as she cried a little more. She finally just whispered, hoping she could get the words out. "We weren't supposed to turn out like this. I…thought we were meant to be…"

He stopped caressing her hair and she opened her eyes slightly, the light still painful.

"I heard you earlier."

She sat up and pulled away a little bit, confused. "When?"

"You were in the bathroom. I…you woke me up."

She jumped to her feet, wincing slightly at both the implications of what he'd said and the throb her head gave at the movement.

"What? You were pretending to sleep so you could… what… spy on me?"

"I heard you! I heard you singing," he confessed. He stood up, taking pleasure in his height because it gave him some feeling of leverage. "Damn it Rachel, did I mean that fucking little to you? You claim you loved me, that you tried to convince me, but what the hell do you want me to think?" He demanded, the anguish in his voice coming through crystal clear.

"No, you…you meant everything to me. You don't understand. I wasn't singing that song to Noah…I…" She stopped mid-sentence when her cell phone buzzed from the nightstand across the room.

"Don't. Please don't answer him," he half-ordered and half-pleaded.

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I…I have to. I'm sorry," she whispered, and quickly stepped to retrieve her phone.

"If you answer him, we have no hope for any future."

She glanced over her shoulder and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I... I just hope you'll understand one day."

He fell back on the seat, his mouth open but not really taking in air. His lungs burned and he could feel something tickling at the back of his throat. He couldn't hear her frantic and whispered words when she turned away from him; between her volume and the blood rushing in his ears, he couldn't hear a fucking thing. But he could see just fine, he wasn't crying or anything, and he watched her go pale and dropped her phone even as she dropped onto the bed.

"What? Rach, what happened?" He asked immediately, forgetting his veiled threat as he jumped off the couch and crossed the room in long strides. He tried to wrap his arms around her, but had barely gotten there and felt how hard she was trembling before she pushed away.

"I…I have to go. I…was supposed to have more time, but…but I have to go before…I have to go," she stammered, blindly grabbed her belongings as she moved around the room in a whirlwind.

"Rach, stop. What the hell is going on? Are you okay?"

She shook her head and ran towards the door.

"I…I'll call you when I…can you please wire the money? I know you don't trust me and I wish I could explain, but…but please. Just, I have to go."

He was frozen. All she wanted was the money. She didn't offer any I love yous, no promises…and the only promise she wanted was a paycheck.

"Fine," he agreed flatly.

She nodded with her hand on the door, but surprised them both when she turned, ran back to him, and then kissed him with every ounce of emotion she could muster.

She pulled away before reality could set in for either of them. "I love you. No matter what has happened or what might happen, you need to know that. You can at least be sure of that one thing, Finn. I've always loved you and I probably always will."

He couldn't speak, her words seeping into him, eating like acid and burning about the same; words she had spoken before he pushed her out of his life five years ago.

Words he couldn't say back either time because he couldn't even breathe.

"Where are you going?" He finally got out, just before the door closed.

"Philadelphia."

When the door finally closed, he fell back onto the chair. He looked down at his left hand, running his finger over where the gold band used to sit.

He didn't know what was waiting for her in Philly now, but he sure as hell needed to find out.