A/N: When I found out Finn was proposing to Rachel last night (via spoilers), I was irritated. Not because I hate Finnchel (though I'm not really a fan) but I just don't think teenagers think about everything that goes with marriage: jobs, insurance, housing, etc, and I just wanted ~for once~ for the writers to be realistic about something so serious as marrying someone right out of high school.

I wrote a three-part/verse SongFic based off of the song "The Freshman" by Verve Pipe, because this is how I see Finnchel happening if Rachel says yes, and I threw in Pelby as kind of a counterbalance. I'll admit, it's kind of depressing, but so is the song.

A/A/N: This is established Finnchel and Pelby (so Puck and Shelby didn't get outted or break up during Sectionals)

A/A/N: Mentions abortion- this is not a pro-life/choice discussion board, so if you don't like it, just go somewhere else.

It was a cold day in Ohio. The snow had just started sticking to the ground, causing everything to turn a greyish-white as the world fought from being overcome with frost. Rachel looked up at the sky as she exited the driver's side of her seat and wondered if there would be a storm soon.

The apartment she entered looked empty: the lights were off, even with the promise of an early dusk, and it was almost silent as she hung up her coat and purse. Yet she knew better than to trust how things looked at first glance.

The tiny brunette walked quietly through the living room into the hall, finally stopping at the bedroom in the back, furniture covered in sheets and walls inexpertly painted a bright yellow. She felt a quiet stab in her gut as she saw dozens of glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the wall.

And sitting in a second-hand rocking chair, staring out the window into the cold, was the love of her life.

"I wanted to get these up," he told her, staring at the leftover stars in his hand. "In case you changed your mind."

Her heart broke again as he said the words. When she had first told him she was pregnant, he had been so excited, so happy for a kid of his own. He'd promised her that he'd ask Burt for more hours, that he'd cut back on everything, that they'd truly be happy. It had killed her to tell him what she had wanted, what she'd spent hours of deliberating over when she'd first realized the possibility.

Finn had reacted in typical fashion—he'd been angry, then spent the last two weeks trying to convince her that her fears were wrong, that they could be a family, could make it work. He'd taken to decorating the guest room with stuffed toys and hand-me-down furniture, and apparently had painted while she was gone.

But he hadn't come with her to the two doctor's visits she'd had beforehand. Wouldn't come to the counseling sessions she scheduled (one by law, the second because she'd cried so hard at the first over his not supporting her, not understanding her, that the doctor gave her the pamphlets and told her she should talk to him again and reschedule). And he certainly hadn't come with her today.

Couldn't, he'd told her. The hardest decision of her life, and he couldn't stand by her.

But that was how it had been for a while, she'd realized as she watched him stare down at the star. Her dreams had remained pushed aside, but still burning bright, and his dreams had ambled to a stutter, causing him to cling to this new idea with all of the strength he'd had.

Rachel Berry wanted a family, she really did—but she wanted to live first. She wanted to try her hand at auditioning for theater, even if it was just the Columbus Troupe. She wanted to finish college. Hell, she just wanted to drink legally. And when she sat down, looking at the life she'd chosen maybe a little too hastily, she realized even with Finn, whom she truly did love, this wasn't the life she wanted yet.

"Finn," she finally said, quietly, apologetically—in the truest of Un-Rachel Berry fashions, but somewhat consistently as Rachel Hudson.

He sniffled quietly and she took another step toward him, reaching out to touch his arm. He jerked violently, pulling himself out of her reach as if she were the Angel of Death (which maybe wasn't so off), and looked back out the window.

"I called Mr—Will," he told her. He still wasn't used to calling his "best friend" by his first name. "He's coming by today again to help put stuff together."

"What stuff?" Rachel asked, confused.

Finn turned to her, eyes angry and red with crying. "My stuff—I'm going to live with him and Ms Pills—Emma for a while. I think it would be best if no one was here." Brown eyes looked at her pointedly, and the synapses in Rachel's brain finally picked up the missing pieces.

"Wait; you want to…divorce?" she could barely get the words out. Melodramatic to the last, the tiny brunette still couldn't understand how everything had fallen apart between them so suddenly.

"You never listen Rachel; you don't care about my opinion at all," he told her. "Not about where we live, or what I want—"

She shook her head hard, her dramatic side taking the forefront as she found herself breaking apart at his words. Her more practical side, however small and pushed to the back of her mind, was babbling in incredulity against his argument: she'd paid so much attention to the houses he'd loved that were so far out of their budget so that she could find something similar, though smaller and more affordable; and she'd heard every word about his dream car, and found a used one that had some of the features he seemed to treasure so dearly, even though it meant she had to learn stick shift in case they needed to trade cars; she'd made every effort to schedule dinner with the Schuesters who meant so much to him, and their friends whenever they came to visit. How could he possibly believe that she didn't listen, didn't care?

"—and now this," he finished, voice half –choked with sobs, "I can't do this anymore." He looked at her for a long moment. "I just think we need some time apart."

And that had been the beginning of the end. She'd gone to stay with her fathers, who'd been so good about not saying "I told you so" as she cried over the destruction of their young relationship. She'd still called Will and Emma's every day, begging them to ask Finn to consider couple's counseling, therapy, anything.

But Finn was stubborn when he wanted to be. He was reported around town no longer wearing his ring (though friends also told her he was often seen red-eyed from crying and lack of sleep), and he wouldn't talk to her, even when she all but stalked him to force them in the same place together.

Six months later, she broke down and gave in, finally submitting her signature to the papers he'd been pushing her way since the apartment went empty. Her dad had gotten them through the system quickly, and her daddy helped her repaint the apartment to an appropriate shade of boring and put it back into the hands of the landlord.