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Rachel's further attempts to talk to Finn were fruitless. Whenever she saw him in the distance, his stony face and rapid evasion made him even more unreachable. He also wore headphones, very effectively blocking her out.

He's hurt, she thought as she tried to get to sleep. Of course he's hurt. I was too confused and embarrassed, I shut him out, and then, oh – and that story got around and...

His pigheadedness was annoying, and that he wouldn't at least check with her before believing Santana, but – if anything this just made her want him more. He clearly had cared very much for her, to react this way. If she could just get him to hear her out, but how? He blocked her every effort, short of her actually going into his classes or invading the locker room. And even then he would still be able to avoid her and walk away.

But there was one place he wouldn't be able to walk away from, she realized, where he wouldn't be able to shut her out with headphones either: on the bench at the football game.

Rachel checked the standings on the school website. Wright State was leading but hadn't clinched their playoff spot yet. So Collinson would start, Finn would be on the bench, helping out of course but she knew he mostly sat there watching the plays and trying not to be bored. Key was that he wouldn't be able to go anywhere or block sound out. She could go right up behind him and say her piece, he wouldn't have any choice but to listen, at least until the coach chased her off.

Game was Saturday, good. Starting 2pm, good – but she groaned. 2pm, WSU at CSU. At. It was an away game, in Cleveland. Cleveland, over three hours away.

Rachel groaned. So much for her perfect plan. Maybe the next week... but that was too long, who knows what could happen in the meantime. And they were so tense, she and Finn both, she could barely pay attention in class at all and he was probably worse. She had hurt him, she knew, and she needed to make it right as soon as possible. Maybe find some other way to send a message... but she drew a blank as to how, at least in a way that would show she was sincere. There was no point in trying to take back what had happened, gossip had a life of its own and she certainly couldn't count on Santana.

Dammit, she needed to go to the game.

Faint heart never won... well Finn wasn't a fair lady, but as far as she was concerned he was the male equivalent. Rehearsal for Les Miz didn't start until Sunday afternoon, so she had Saturday to herself. Cleveland wasn't all that hideously far away, and even though her little car wasn't that good on highways it would do. She had driven farther, though not often, so she could do it. She would still try to see him before that, but it never hurt to have a backup plan. And then even if she couldn't talk for long, he would know she was serious, to go so far to see him.

So Rachel went over to the CSU athletics website and bought herself a ticket to the game, as close to behind the visitor bench as she could get. One way or another, she was going to get her man.

Rachel still tried to talk to Finn over the rest of the week, but mostly from ingrained persistence. She didn't see him in the dorm halls at all, or at the cafeteria, and she decided that if he really did want to avoid her then all she would be doing was chasing him further away. Besides, it hurt to be so rebuffed, even if she had to admit to herself that she had earned it. She had a plan, she could wait a few days.

Meanwhile, she was having less trouble with her roommate. It took a while for Rachel to notice, preoccupied as she was with her Finn troubles, but Santana had lost a lot of her energy. Irritable, almost sullen, she was in the room a lot more and was also doing her own share of staring after someone turning away – in this case Brittany. They still interacted, but there was tension, telling Rachel that there had certainly been more going on with those two than Santana's man-crazy behavior had indicated.

On Saturday Rachel dressed warmly in a new WSU sweater and drove to Cleveland State University. She had an aisle seat, just a few rows behind the visitors' bench, so she was sure she would have no trouble talking to Finn. Security at these games seemed nonexistent. She became more focused as it neared kick-off time, mentally rehearsing her planned lines in her head.

Wright State was announced, and Rachel looked eagerly at the team coming onto the field. There was Collinson leading the way, and Mike, and many others she knew in passing in the dorms, and...

But no. She craned her head and searched for tall number 5, but in vain. There was no sign of Finn. There was another low number though – Evans, number 7. She groaned as she recognized the name of the team's utility player, a backup's backup, now wearing a quarterback number. And though she kept looking over the team, hoping desperately that she was wrong, she knew it was hopeless. Finn wasn't playing, he wasn't there at all.

Rachel took a while to recover from her shock at Finn's absence. Where was he? And what if anything could she do now?

She barely noticed the game, her mind turning things over and over as she sat slumped in her seat. Whatever had happened, this couldn't be good. It made a mockery of all the effort she had taken to come to the game, and left her with no idea what to try next. And... she hadn't seen Finn for a couple of days at least. Had something else gone wrong?

She started to get stares from those around her, and belatedly realized that Wright State was doing very well, making her depressed slump out-of-place. So she got up as the others did the next time they scored, going through the motions of cheering, using it to break her out of her stunned state.

Her determination returning, Rachel took stock of the situation. The Wright State defense were on the field, the coaches were huddled together in some sort of discussion, and right in front of her – where Finn should be – was number 7, Evans. She pulled herself together and approached the bench, then tapped him on the shoulder.

"Where's Finn?"

The young blond man turned to her and blinked, startled. "What?"

"Finn Hudson. You're, uh, replacing him, so – "

Rachel's approach had drawn the notice of a few other players. Some, like Mike, were puzzled; others frowned, and one – Karofsky – came over to interrupt.

"Well who do we have here," the burly lineman asked with a leer. "Want to help out? I've got something swollen you could take care of."

Evans waved him away. "She's just asking about Finn."

"Hudson? He's on his back, moaning," Karofsky sniggered, gesturing suggestively. "Guess you're too late."

Rachel couldn't conceal her hurt. So Finn was ignoring her and he'd found someone else, already. Someone who was clearly a very bad influence if he was missing the game, the coach must be furious. Tears filled her eyes. How had all their misunderstandings turned into something so serious?

Was it Santana? But no, she was there with the rest of the cheerleaders. Then who, just some girl?

"Lucky for you there's a real man here instead," Karofsky jeered further, complete with a thrust of his groin. "You'll have to share, but hey, the next time you need a place to sleep –" He thrust again, and Rachel cringed and turned away. She'd had such hope, it had come to nothing, and Finn was throwing himself away on someone else. Even if he heard her out now, even if he hadn't decided that she was too much trouble, she didn't know how they could recover from something like this. She walked numbly back to the stands, crying, ignoring the shouts of her name coming behind her.

A hand took her arm firmly, and she had to stop and turn. It was Mike.

"Karofsky's an ass," Mike said. "Don't worry about him, he wouldn't dare try anything."

Rachel wasn't so sure about that, but it wasn't Karofsky that worried her. "Is what he said true?" she asked, wiping away her tears. "About Finn, that he's..." she couldn't finish.

"Only technically," Mike snorted. He pulled her aside to get out of the way of others, fans leaving their seats as the first half ended. "It's his back. It's been spasming again and riding the pine makes it worse, so Coach gave him the week off. They hope he'll get better more quickly so he can get some playing time in a couple of weeks against Youngstown."

"Oh!" Rachel gasped. It wasn't too late after all. "So he's back on our campus, in his room? By himself?" She had to talk to him right away.

"Our room, yes. But Rachel?" Mike called her back as she started to move off. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but Finn was really hurt when he heard about that drama friend of yours, not just the what but especially the why. He's been pretty clear he doesn't want to talk to you now, and he needs to recover. From his back, but also from the other mess that the two of you had going on."

"He doesn't know what's going on," Rachel insisted. "Once I talk to him, all the rest, it won't matter." She hoped that was true. She certainly hadn't meant it to go as far as it had, and she thought he'd forgive her once he knew, given how interested she was now sure he was.

"Really?" Mike was skeptical.

"Yes." She paused. "Just in case, could you tell him something from me? It's really important that he know this, so if I can't talk to him could you? Please?"

"I'm not going to make your case for you. He's really hurt, Rachel. I could tell he couldn't get you being with that drama guy out of his head, sure it was probably a mistake but it doesn't matter that you didn't mean to hurt him."

"That's not it. Look, how about I tell you, in confidence, and you can tell him or not. I trust you, and I think once you know you'll want to tell him."

Mike frowned, but nodded. Rachel stepped close to him and leaned up to whisper into his ear, telling him what had really happened the previous week. He blinked a few times, listening.

"Really?" he said as she finished, and she nodded. "Okay, in that case I'll tell him, if you can't. But it would still be a lot better if you can deal with it yourself."

"I've been trying. And now I'll make sure of it. He's definitely in his room? Your room?"

"He's on painkillers and bed rest today, so he'd better be."

"Then he'll have to hear me out. Thank you." With that, Rachel left, heading out of the stadium and back to her car as quickly as she could.

Three hours and two playlists of show tunes later she was stuck in traffic, still half an hour outside of Dayton. She was tired, frustrated, the seesaw of emotions taking its toll as well as the travel. She wanted to pull over onto the shoulder, get out of her car, and scream.

But no, she had to keep going. Finn was waiting for her, he didn't know it but he was. He was in pain, pain that she had thoughtlessly exacerbated, and she needed to tell him how she really felt. She had to take care of him too, help him be ready for his upcoming opportunity as he'd helped her with hers. So she stayed in line, eyes glued to the bumper of the car ahead of her.

Finally traffic eased and she could make it back to Wright State and the dorms. Rachel felt she should be exhausted, but she still had too much determination and adrenaline to give up. No matter how tired she was, she had to keep going, walk those last few steps down the hall to Finn's door.

She stopped there and knocked. "Finn?" Though she immediately regretted calling out, since he had been so determined to avoid her.

Nothing. How can I get him to answer me? To listen?

Her clever plan to catch him at the game had been for nothing. Now she was stuck in the same situation as before, where every previous time he had walked away. She sagged against the door frame, drained from all her efforts. All the tension, those long drives on the highway, the emotional whiplash of finding Finn wasn't at the game and Karofsky's insinuations... more than ever, she needed to resolve this, for both their sakes. But what if he simply turned away again?

Not this time, Rachel told herself, marshalling her energy reserves. She'd previously wasted what brief attention she could get with pleas to be heard out. This time she'd get straight to the point, it didn't matter if he didn't want to hear her out because she'd tell him all he needed to know in three short words.

Now if she could just get him to open the damned door.

She knocked again; no answer, no sound of movement. Yet Mike had been so sure Finn would be in, under orders to heal up. And Finn would have listened; even free, with the rest of the dorm away, he would want his back to get better.

She knocked louder. "I know you're in there, Finn! I'm not giving up until you hear me out." And again. "It's wrong, the whole story is wrong. I'm so sorry. Please, let me in."

She kicked the door hard, using her limited body weight to rattle it on its hinges. She'd make him answer it if it was the last thing she did.

Finally it opened, and she saw Finn's face, slightly dopey, like he'd just woken up. Headphones dangled from one hand, and she realized he hadn't heard anything that she'd said before. So she looked him square in the eyes and shouted out those three words she had come to say.

"JESSE DOESN'T EXIST!"

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