He didn't often feel rage. Most of the time he just felt well… kinda confused. Well no, maybe not confused just like... a little bit lost. No—not lost. Definitely just indecisive, sort of. Anyways, when he got the call from Santana all he could feel was blind, hot fury. It was primal, really. Rachel was his. And nobody, ESPECIALLY a waxed down dancer was going to take advantage of his beautiful girl. Even if it meant spending half of this year's savings on a plane ticket to deliver a very sincere warning. He didn't tell his mother or Burt that he was leaving; he caught the red eye and followed Santana's instructions.
The only hiccup in their scheme was that Rachel was not supposed to know any of it, but that meant that he was going all the way to New York and wouldn't get to see her, or hold her, or at least talk about what they both so obviously still felt at the wedding. He couldn't help but release a devilish smile to himself at the thought of the wedding and just how perfectly everything fell into place until she left. Which is why he realized none of it was perfect because he was here and she was there. Finn got out of the cab in front of the hotel and walked in to greet Santana in the lobby, hand on hip with her typical scowled face. He couldn't help but miss her 'tude just a little bit. She released her stance when she saw her once tall and gangly conquest and wrapped him in a bear hug. He was broader now, stronger. In mind and body, although he still had that boyish quality to him, again Santana felt that urge to take care of someone. "Gross." And with that she shook off the thought. "Here's the plan, Frankenteen. You're going to hide in the bathroom until I finally take that creep's pliable ass off and hand it to him so he has to go get re-manufactured at Mattel. Then, I'll leave and you can do whatever you please. I'll wait outside just in case things go south." Finn nods. Santana looks over at him concerned by his focused and stoic gaze, "Don't do anything stupid, Finn. It won't be worth it if you wind up in jail for assaulting him and Rachel finds out about the whole plan anyway. Trust me, she looks for any reason to defend this psycho." Finn winces at the insinuation of Rachel and Brody's relationship. "Please, spare me the details, Santana." She gives him the most sympathy she can, which for her is a mindful head tilt and then ushers him towards the elevator.
It isn't until Finn is hovering over Brody, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and screaming into his face that he realizes what he's doing and what he's saying. But the words fall off of his lips so very naturally, "STAY AWAY FROM MY FUTURE WIFE!" He looks into Brody's plastic eyes and sees fear for the first time, more so than when they were hitting each other or when he caught him off guard coming out of the bathroom. It was because Finn understood that his words had such conviction that it wasn't a threat so much as a promise. No one was to harm his wife, he didn't care that it wasn't official. Clearly, after all of this time it was to him.
He stood outside of her door even though he knew he wasn't supposed to. He had made a promise to Santana but also to himself and to Rachel that he'd let her do this alone but he couldn't ignore the magnetism that felt like it was actually pulling him into her loft. He stood there and adjusted himself, made sure his collar was folded and his shirt nice and flat. He brushed over his hair with his hand and took a deep sigh and he went for it: he knocked. And waited. And he knocked. And he waited. It was strange because he knew someone was home, there was a light under the door the dull hum of a television playing. He reached out his hand to the door knob and twisted and it opened right up. At this, Finn became frightened. Rachel Berry doesn't forget to lock locks, especially when home alone. He pushed the door open wider and walked into the dark space that was lit only by the living room television. He saw no sign of life in the apartment until he saw a faint strip of light waning under a curtain. He walked past and saw that the light was coming from the half opened bathroom door. As he stepped closer, he heard it. Rachel getting violently ill. He approached the door and he heard her scream and she instinctively slammed the door. "What the hell was happening?!" he thought. He knocked, "Rachel it's me." She slid down the door slowly from the other side putting her palm flat against the surface as if to reach for him, but she couldn't, she wouldn't let herself. "Who?" she sung back, voice cracking. "Rach, it's Finn. Open the door, let me help you." She was crying now, no way to stop the dam once it was opened, "You can't help me, Finn. Remember? I was supposed to do this all by myself. I was supposed to be the big star that everyone dreamed I'd be." He smiled sadly and coaxed her through the door, "You are, Rachel. You just don't realize it because you're in New York and there's more competition, but let me tell you something Rach. With you, there is no competition. There are going to be people who are trained and talented and award winning but you will beat them all every time, and you know why? Because you're Rachel Berry and there is no one in this world that compares to you." She clutched her stomach, the ache of his words throbbing in her abdomen. So this was the familiar and comforting feeling that had alluded her with Brody. This was someone who cared about her. This was someone who saw things in her she couldn't even see herself. This was what it was like to be loved.
She let the door open a crack and Finn took her lead into the small space. He found her curled up on the floor resting her long brown locks against the cold wall. "Rach.." He bent down and cupped her crying face. "Rachel please, tell me." She lifted up a shaky hand to reveal the fifth positive pregnancy test that had finally broke her out of her denial and put her straight into the thick of the grieving process—for her career. He fell to his knees in front of her, wide eyed and mouth agape as the significance of the stick washed over him. He searched for her eyes but they kept on darting around trying to avoid his. All he heard was a muddled and faint, "Sorry." He took her into his strong arms and cradled her rocking back and forth as they both cried into each other's shirts. "I'm going to take care of you." He promised as he planted a kiss on the top of her head. She pulled away from him at that and looked up into his sweet, handsome face. The face that one year ago belonged to her fiancé. She shook her head as she half spoke and half cried, "Don't you see? I ruined everything Finn. Everything." She laughed an ironic and bitter laugh, one that knew defeat. "I can't possibly let you take care of another man's child, Finn. You deserve better than that. You deserve to have your own beautiful babies when the time is right, not like this." He grabbed her hands in his and squeezed tightly, "You are the only woman in this world that I ever want to have a child with. It is pointless to have a family for me if I'm not making that family with you. Besides what makes that baby any more his than mine?" She mulled over this, from the time she had found out about her pregnancy she wanted so badly to believe the baby was Finn's but was too terrified of the possibility that it wasn't that she only truly entertained Brody as the father. He grinned towards the floor, a little too shy to look right at her and say, "I don't know how, but I know this baby is ours. It may seem ridiculous to you but I can feel it." She looks up at him throw furrowed brows expectantly, "I have a feeling too."