A/N: Seems like I caused a bit of a kerfuffle when I said I'd be doing monthly updates. That isn't strictly true since I update whenever I finish the next chapter, but that seems to be how long it takes to write each update. And of course, this is now two updates in a row that have been done in under a month, so don't pay attention to me.

"Rachel, you know the point of bowling is to get the ball to hit the pins right?"

"I know."

"Just making sure, cause it seems like you think it's putting the ball into the gutter."

"It's not my fault we don't have space for bowling alleys in New York."

"You wanna try the lanes with the rubber cushions instead of gutters?"

"And the small balls?"

"And the small balls."

"Aren't those lanes for kids?"

"No," Finn said as he picked up his ball and walked towards the lane. "Anyone can use 'em."

"I think we'll stay here so I can beat you properly. I wouldn't want you to have some excuse as to why I beat you at yet another activity."

"Beat me?" Finn asked as he turned around. "I think I'm up by like 70 pins."

"There's no way you're up by that many pins," Rachel said before she hunched over to re-tally the scorecard.

With a crooked grin, Finn stared at her as she concentrating on adding up the pin totals. She glanced up then quickly looked back down when she saw him looking at her, causing his smile to spread, and almost immediately, she looked up again and smiled back at him. They smiled at each other for a few seconds with widening grins before she went back to her task.

"It looks like you're up around 90 pins," she said as she looked up.

"Told you," he said as he turned around.

Finn lined up his shot and bowled the ball straight at the pins, knocking down seven of the ten pins. His second ball knocked down one of the three remaining pins and he made his way back to the score table where Rachel was sitting.

"Looks like I'm almost a hundred up," he said as he looked over her shoulder. "You sure you don't want to switch lanes?"

"No, I'm going to come back and beat you."

"I don't think there are enough frames left for you to do that even if I throw gutter balls the rest of the game."

She looked at the scorecard again and tapped her lips with an index finger.

"Well, I'll just have to beat you next game then."

"In the other lane?"

Rachel looked back down at the scorecard, sighed, and then said, "Yes, in the other lane."

An hour and a half later found them walking down Main Street towards a destination that Rachel wasn't able to pry out of Finn. Not that she hadn't tried, but the harder she did the more he resisted, even though he said the destination wasn't that important. Annoyingly, he killed her curiosity by simply taking her hand in his which made her much happier than she ought to have been but even that annoyance vanished seconds after he took her hand.

"This means I'm up two to one over you right?"

"Hmm?"

"I beat you at pool and bowling. You won the poker game so two to one."

"Right," she said as she nuzzled up against him.

"Plus, I did save your life basically so that has to count for at least two or three. Maybe even five."

Rachel rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. "While I do appreciate you playing the knight in shining armor to my damsel in distress that shouldn't count towards our running score."

"Our running score?"

"Yes, the running score we have which I will keep because I will come out on top."

"Huh. Okay then."

They stopped in front of a mom and pop ice cream shop where Finn held the door open for Rachel.

"Ice cream? You know that has—"

"I know. They have sorbet too."

"Oh. That works."

"I know it's not fancy or anything but their stuff is awesome and—"

"It's perfect."

"Are you sure you want to do this Rachel?"

"Yes."

"You don't think it's too soon?"

"No, it's fine. Just put it in."

"Okay, but it gets kinda disgusting."

"I'll be fine. Just hurry up."

"Not even a week yet and you're already a slave driver. Can't wait to see what you're like in the future."

With that being said, Finn picked out a DVD from the shoebox he kept under his old bed, put it in the DVD player under the TV, and took a seat next to Rachel on the couch.

"I don't even know why you'd want to see this," Finn said.

"Because I want to know everything about you and this was an extremely important event in your life."

"Oh."

"Finn," she said as she took his hand. "When was the last time you saw this?"

"Dunno. It's been awhile."

"We can stop at any time if it becomes too difficult for you."

Finn grunted in response as he hit play on the remote, causing the TV to flare to life with the images of the last football game in his career. The last time he had seen this game was a few months after it had happened and his shrink was trying to help him come to terms with the fact that his life was going to be completely different. His entire life before the injury revolved around football. What he ate, when he woke up, who he hung out with, where he lived; all of these things, and more, were dictated by the simple fact that he played football for a major Division One college and, more likely than not, it would be his job for the next ten years after college.

That other life was something Finn tried not to think about in his day to day life, but as he watched the game, he couldn't help thinking about where he would be or what he would be doing right now if his leg had healed properly. As he glanced down at his hand being held by Rachel's then up at her face, he figured that this new path wasn't all bad. It amused him to see her concentrating so hard on the game in front of her, considering the facts that she demanded to watch the entire game and had no idea what was going on in the game.

"Is my face that much more interesting than the game?"

"You know," he said as he poked her in the temple. "I was actually in the game we're watching right now so I don't really need to watch it."

"So you keep telling me."

"Plus, you look a lot better than watching 22 sweaty men trying to kill each other."

"That's not much of a compliment you know."

"I know."

Rachel gasped before whipping her head back towards the TV causing Finn to laugh and throw his arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards him. After a few half-hearted attempts to resist, she eventually snuggled into him and settled into his side.

"Which one are you again?"

"Number five in red."

"You're very good at it."

"Was. I was good at it."

"I've seen you at practice. You still are."

"If I was really good at it, I'd still be playing." Finn pointed at the TV. "I couldn't do that now."

"You threw the ball pretty far when I was at practice last week."

"That was a simple lob. You can't really compare that to flinging the ball 60 yards down the field, so far my wide-out couldn't even run under it."

Finn glanced at Rachel and found her staring blankly at him.

"Didn't understand a word I said did you?"

"No, not really."

His laughs drew a glare and an elbow in the ribs from her.

"Okay, okay," he said as he grabbed her elbow. "You understood every word."

Finn watched as Michigan quickly went three and out and punted the ball back to Ohio State. He saw himself hand the ball off to his running back who easily gained 14 yards and then turn towards the sideline. With each passing moment and without noticing, he sat straighter and straighter and gripped Rachel's elbow harder and harder.

"Finn. Finn. You're hurting me."

"What?" He looked down and saw her trying to peel his hand away from her elbow. "Oh God. Sorry, sorry."

"We don't have to do this," she said as she tucked her arm underneath his and held his hand.

"No, it's fine." He squeezed her hand at the look of disbelief on her face. "I'm fine."

Looking as though she still didn't believe him, she slowly turned her head forward to watch the TV which was now showing Finn settling behind his center, getting ready for the snap. Their conversation stopped and, as their breathing slowed, the only sounds in the room came from the TV. The play started and Finn gripped Rachel's hand tighter and tighter and in turn she sandwiched his hand with her other hand.

The hitch in his breathing seconds into the play was Rachel's biggest clue as to what was coming and how soon it would be there, but it wasn't much of a notice. The play was over in less than eight seconds and Finn forgot how much the end result looked just like three previous plays when he was sacked. The only differences were the Michigan player waving frantically at the OSU sidelines for help and the silence that fell over the crowd in the stadium. That silence made its presence felt in the living room even though the event in question was years past and both persons in the room knew what the eventual outcome would be.

"You might want to turn away from the replays," Finn said as the TV showed images of scared looking fans.

"It didn't look too bad."

"You still probably want to look away."

"No, I want to see."

"Don't say that I didn't warn you."

This was pretty much what the announcers were telling their audience before the replays started, except they used words like "gruesome" and "grisly."

Modern television production of a major sporting event is an amazing thing with dozens and dozens of people involved, all with the express purpose of providing a good show for the viewers at home. The most important thing, obviously, are the visuals which meant about a dozen high-definition cameras were used at that game and the production crew decided to show any and all of the video that showed even a glimpse of what had happened. This included multiple close-up angles of Finn's leg being bent in a way that no human leg was ever meant to be bent. Thankfully, the director cut away from the video before the bloody aftermath could be seen. Not that it helped Rachel any, as she buried her face into Finn's side halfway through the first replay.

"Turn it off. Turn it off," Finn heard Rachel's muffled voice say.

When he did, she pulled away from him, looked up, and said, "Did it hurt?"

"No, not when it happened." He let out a sad chuckle. "Funny thing is that it only started to hurt when I got to the hospital but, man, morphine is a hell of a drug."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize."

"I know, but I feel terrible that it happened to you."

"Oh…" He looked down as she began tracing the lines on his palm. "Thanks."

"You know," she said after a few seconds of tracing his palm. "This conversation seems very familiar."

"Yea, it kinda does."

"What else is in that shoebox of yours?" she asked after a few more seconds.

"Uh, some videos of our performances."

"Our?"

"Oh, my old show choir from high school. Mom liked to record the performances and I transferred them to DVD one summer."

"Can I see them?"

Finn shrugged. "If you want to."

"Can I see it?" Rachel asked after a few moments.

"Sure," Finn said as he stood up. "Should I just pick a random one?"

"No, not the performances." She glanced down. "Your leg."

"Oh… uh…"

"There's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about."

"I'm not ashamed or embarrassed. It's just…" He rubbed his face and turned around. "Plus, you already saw it at Quinn's party."

"I just want to see it again."

He stared at her staring at him and when he figured she wouldn't back down he said, "Fine."

"Lie down and put your legs in my lap."

After he did that, she gingerly placed a hand on his leg.

"You don't need to be so careful, it's not like my leg is gonna fall off."

She responded with a glare before she rolled up the left side of his sweatpants, revealing his scarred leg. With more time and less anger than she had at the pool, she was able to get a much better look at his leg. Like before, the scars on his leg were there but they weren't grotesque or horrifying or even that noticeable, just half a dozen pinkish lines running up and down his leg and converging on the two scars where the bones had broken through the skin.

Her index finger traced over each scar and she marveled at the surgeon who had to have been very skilled since the scars were barely there. Some of that was due to the passage of time but the clean lines that remained had to be some indication of technique. Switching from her index finger to an entire palm, she barely ran it over his leg, just grazing the hairs growing there. She grinned as she felt his leg tremble in her lap and saw goose bumps form.

"Sensitive?"

"No. Just feels nice."

She brought her other hand up and began running both hands up and down his leg, enjoying the feel of the goose bumps disappearing under her hands.

"Does it ever hurt?"

"No, but it gets sore sometimes after I have nightmares."

Her hands switched from running across his leg to massaging it.

"Do you have them often?"

"I have no idea. I mean, they probably wake me up once or twice a month but my leg gets sore a few more times than that and mom says there are times when I don't wake up so…"

They spent the next few minutes in the same positions until Finn said, "Done playing around with my leg yet?"

"No, but I'll let you have it back anyway," she said as she pushed away his leg.

"Thanks," he said as she swung into a seated position. "Now what?"

"Show me a video of your performances?"

He grinned then got up and swapped DVDs in the player before sitting back down next to her.

"Gotta warn you, we weren't that great."

"I'll be the judge of that."

The grainy video began to play and every so often it moved up and down.

"Sorry about the quality. Mom got a bit excited for the performances."

But Rachel didn't respond since she was too engrossed in watching the performance which hadn't really improved with age in Finn's opinion. In fact, he was pretty sure New Directions was a lot worse than he remembered. Probably why they never got past Regionals the only time they made it there. Now that he thought about it, it was what they were watching was that Regionals performance.

"You guys weren't that bad."

"Yea we were."

"That short Asian girl has a very good voice."

"Man, I don't remember her name," Finn said as he scratched his head. "She was a transfer student, only at our school for a year. And yea, she was pretty good."

"You're not half bad either and your harmonization with that transfer student is not bad. You just…"

"Lacked chemistry?"

"Yes. Your lack of chemistry is definitely hindering this attempt at a power ballad."

They watched the rest of the performances with Rachel making comments, mostly about the quality of the songs and singing, as they popped into her head and those comments were always spot on.

"You guys were good," Rachel said as the video ended. "You should've placed first."

"You don't need to sugarcoat it. We deserved to be third."

"Okay, yes. You deserved your third place finish. Your high notes were tinny and your bass was off key multiple times. The backing vocals could have been tighter and—"

"Jeez, you don't have to tear us apart either. It's not like we can do anything about it now."

"I— You're right. It's just that I—"

"You're insane?"

Rachel whipped her head around and glared at him. "Just because I'm a perfectionist when it comes to work does not mean I am insane."

"Half insane?"

"Not insane."

"Okay, just crazy."

Rachel replied by rolling her eyes and flinging her old monkey at his face. Finn picked up the monkey from his lap and looked at it.

"Already want to return the things I gave you?"

"No," she said as she scooted closer. "That's the one I brought with me."

"Looks kinda like the one I gave you," Finn said as he spun the monkey around. "Doesn't it?"

"He's exactly the same, except the colors are swapped."

"Huh." He sat the monkey down on his leg and poked at him. "You know, I used to have tons of stuffed animals when I was a kid. I think I might have even had one like this guy. Probably still in a box somewhere if I know my mom."

"I know you used to have a lot of them."

"You do?"

"I do," she said. "Do you know how I got this monkey?"

"No. Why would I?"

"Did you know I was here for your dad's funeral?"

"Are you going to stop answering my questions with questions?" She smacked him on the arm. "Yes, I knew you were there. Mom told me about it the day you got here."

"So you don't actually remember me being there?"

"Nope."

"Well, when I was there, I met this nice young boy who cheered me up when I was really upset."

"Okay…?"

"Do you know how he cheered me up?"

"No idea."

"He gave me that monkey and said I could keep him for as long as I needed him." Rachel picked up the monkey. "This guy was my best friend… my only friend for the longest time. He followed me everywhere and I told him all of my secrets and he was always there for me."

"Huh…"

"You have no idea who that boy was, do you?"

"No idea."

"You know, you can be really dense sometimes."

"Yea. Mom, Quinn, Puck, Santana, and pretty much everyone else keep telling me that."

"It was you! You gave me the monkey!"

"I did?"

"You did."

"I never did get to thank you properly since I had to leave soon after you gave him to me. So, thank you."

"You're just full of kindness today."

"I know." She crawled onto his lap. "You're lucky to have me."

"I know I am," he said right before he kissed her.

The moan coming out of Rachel was low and guttural and music to Finn's ears which was why he was a tiny bit sorry that he silenced it with his mouth. What he wasn't sorry about were his hands on her legs that were straddling his hips as he sat on the couch. Her moans only grew deeper as he ran his hands up and down her sides under her shirt and the vibrations from her mouth sent shivers down his spine. The gyrations of her hips sent similar sensations to a different part of his body causing him to return a set of his own moans.

A towel smacked them on the side of their heads.

"Hey assholes," Puck said. "If you two are gonna bang on my couch at least put a towel underneath your asses."

Rachel pulled away and said, "Afraid we're gonna break in your couch for you?"

"Babe," Puck said. "Puckzilla broke that in the night he got it."

Rachel looked down at the couch and gave it a look of disgust then groaned before resting her forehead on Finn's chin.

"I think it's time to go home," Finn said.

"Fuck yea. You two need to go use that soundproof basement you have. What I wouldn't give for that shit." Puck waggled his eyebrows. "My neighbors are always complaining about the noise my women make."

Rachel gave the couch a look of disgust again and said, "Yes, I believe it is time to go home." She glanced back at Noah. "Thanks for ruining the mood."

"That's why I don't date," Puck said to Finn. "You gotta deal with shit like moods and crap."

"Yes," Rachel said as she stood up and walked to the door. "I'm sure that's exactly why you don't date or have a girlfriend. Come on Finn, let's go."

"Thanks man," Finn said as he stood up. "Great wingman."

"Excuse me?" Rachel asked as she spun around. "What do you mean by that?"

"Uh, nothing? I was talking to Puck?"

"I know you were," Rachel said with a glare. "I also know what the term wingman means."

"But—"

"I don't know what you were expecting tonight—"

"Nothing. I wasn't expecting anything."

"I'll have you know I am not some co-ed groupie who will just throw myself at you," she said as she poked him in the chest.

"I never said you were," Finn said as he took a step back. "I was just joking around with Puck cause we're guys and that's, like, what we do. I mean, I know you're not—" He stopped talking as she saw the hint of a grin on her face.

"Got you."

Finn groaned then said, "Yes. Yes, you did."

"Come on Finn, let's go home," she said as she walked out of the apartment.

"Dude, you are so whipped."

"Fuck you."

Eighteen vegan and vegetarian courses, four glasses of wine, three dessert courses, and almost four hours later and they finally reached the last course of their meal.

"I don't think I can eat another bite," Rachel said as she placed her fork on her plate which was almost immediately bussed away, along with every other utensil, plate, and glass on the table.

"I think you will when you see the last course."

"I have never eaten this much." Rachel groaned. "Thanksgivings are nothing compared to this."

"You've never eaten at the best places in New York? They do meals like this."

"Do they let you sit in the kitchen too?" Rachel asked as she looked around for the umpteenth time during the meal, still amazed that there was actually a table inside the busy kitchen.

"I'm sure some places have a chef's table."

"How'd you find out about this place?"

"Someone brought the team here to eat during my freshman year. Probably broke a dozen NCAA rules but it was the best meal I've ever had." He looked at her and smiled. "Well, second best now."

"Oh," Rachel said as she brought her elbows up so a waiter could roll out a rubber mat on the table. "How often do you come here?"

"About a dozen times a year."

Their conversation paused as waiters brought back their glasses of water and wine, as well as clean spoons.

"Thank you for bringing me here."

"No problem." He stopped while waiters brought over half a dozen dishes filled with unknown things and lined them up along the side of the table. "I figured that after a month in Lima you'd be glad to wander around bigger city for a day."

"It has been a wonderful day. Although I don't know why you wouldn't let me buy that pair of Louboutins I saw. Or that dress. Or the blouse. Or those earrings. Or that—"

"I think you're answering your own question just fine."

Rachel glared at him until a man in chef's whites walked up to the table and interrupted them.

"Finn, how you doing tonight?"

"Chef, great meal as usual."

"Thanks. Always glad to have you eat at my table." He glanced towards Rachel. "And I'm glad that you've finally brought a young lady with you. I mean it's nice to see your mom and dad every month or so but it's about time."

Finn chuckled. "I figured it was time to bring someone new around."

The chef turned towards Rachel and said, "I'm not kidding. You're the first person that Finn's brought here other than his parents and brother."

"Is this true?"

Finn shrugged. "Like I said, it was time to bring someone new, so don't think you're special or anything."

Rachel grinned. "I don't need to think I am. I know I am."

The chef laughed. "I like her."

"Don't you have cooking to do?" Finn asked after he groaned.

"Of course not. That's what my sous chefs are for and you guys are the last table, so I have nothing better to do than to chat with my favorite customer." He picked up a bowl billowing with white smoke from the table. "Plus, I have something special for your last course. It's called Chocolate."

"Just chocolate?"

"Just chocolate," the chef said as he pulled out four brown balls, two lighter than the others, from the bowl. "Dark and milk chocolate frozen with liquid nitrogen." He crushed them in his hand and spread out the crumbs in a crescent shape on the rubber mat. "White chocolate. Sorry it's not vegan but you said vegetarian was acceptable." Another bowl was picked up and, with a spoon, he ladled out a thick white substance in random shapes and areas on the mat. "Menthol." Eight popcorn-like balls were placed on the mat. "Hyssop." Tiny amounts of the ground up herb were placed randomly on the mat. "Finally, more chocolate. Milk, dark, and unsweetened," he said as he used the final four bowls, each containing a different type of chocolate, prepared in a unique way.

When he was done about two thirds of the mat was covered and the two diners stared slack-jawed at the amount of food that was there.

"That is a lot of food," Rachel said.

"What she said."

The chef laughed. "That's alright. We tested out the dish with the right proportions for two and felt that it didn't look impressive enough, so what you're seeing is for about six people."

"There is no possible way we can eat all of that," Rachel said.

"We don't expect you to," the chef said. "Just wanted to give you a good show. Anyway, Chocolate with menthol and hyssop. Enjoy."

Their eyes followed the chef as he walked back to the kitchen then looked down at their table before looking at each other. Smiles appeared on their faces as they picked up their spoons and Finn gestured for her to go first.

"I almost don't want to eat it, it's so beautiful," Rachel said as she looked down. "It's like a something you'd find in MoMA."

"MoMA?"

"Museum of Modern Art."

"Oh." Finn dragged his spoon through the dessert before bringing a spoonful of it up to his mouth. "I never liked modern art that much."

"This. Is. Delicious," Rachel said after she had a bite. "But I really can't eat anymore."

"That's funny since I see you still eating."

"I know. I know." She took another bite. "But it's too good."

"I think I'm gonna be able to roll you home if you keep eating."

Rachel glared at him as she put down her spoon.

"Also you need to save some room for the petit fours."

"There's more?"

"Just some small pastries and chocolates to eat with your coffee or tea," Finn said as he played around with bits of the food.

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"Nope. They even give you something to take home."

Rachel groaned and slumped down in her chair. "I give up."

"Quitter."

"Don't think that just because you've plied me with good food and wine means you can call me names," she said as she pointed a finger at him. "In fact," she said as she gestured around her. "What were you trying to do by bringing me here? Impress me?"

"Well, Lima's not exactly known for its stellar cuisine and I wanted to bring you somewhere nice and since we were gonna be in Columbus anyway… I mean if I knew you were gonna be happy with something simper I would've taken you to Chipotle or something."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I never said that. I just wanted you to know that you don't have to try and impress me with fancy food."

"Thanks for telling me, but I wanted to bring you here."

"Then, thank you for bringing me."

"So, what can I do to you after I've plied you with good food and wine?"

Her cheeks flushed and she quickly looked down.

"With what I've read, never thought you'd be so shy."

Still looking down, she softly said, "It's different when you're with someone you really like."

Finn played around with some more of the dessert before he said, "You never liked the people you've dated?"

"No, not really."

"Why'd you date so many guys then?"

She looked up and then picked up her spoon, joining Finn in playing with the remains of the dessert.

"It seemed like the thing to do."

"Why date guys you didn't like?"

Rachel shrugged. "I could've learned to like one of them."

"Doesn't sound like you did and if you—"

"Is this something you really want to talk about?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you really want to talk about the men I've dated and how many times I've been in the gossip rags?"

"Don't see why not," Finn said as he shrugged.

"You really want to talk about who I've been with and what I've done with them and where I did those things?" Rachel said with an arched eyebrow.

"Uh," Finn said. "On second thought…"

"Thought so," she said with a grin that quickly fell off her face when she saw that Finn was looking down and intently stabbing the same bits of chocolate over and over again.

"Finn?"

"Yea?"

"Finn."

He looked up. "Yes?"

"About those guys I dated."

"Thought we weren't talking about them?"

"I never did anything with them."

"What'd you mean?"

"I mean, aside from some kissing, I never did anything with them." She took a sip of water. "It's one of the reasons I dated so many guys."

"Oh… what about Jesse?"

Rachel sighed. "He was the only one I did anything with."

"The only one?"

"Yes, my first and only."

"Your first?"

"Yes, my first."

"Then why'd you date all those guys?"

"Jesse and I are constantly breaking up and getting back together so I have plenty of time to date other people."

"Am I just some other person?"

"No!" She glanced around, checking to see if people were looking in their direction. "No, this is different. Jesse and I are finished."

"You are?"

"We are." She put her spoon down again. "I want to be with you."

The blood curdling scream coming from right next to her ear woke Rachel up. She flailed about for a few seconds not knowing where she was until realized she was in the basement. More specifically, she was sitting on the sofa in the basement with Finn sleeping uneasily beside her. They'd been watching a romantic comedy that she had roped him into renting from Netflix down in the basement and, considering the main menu on the TV, they must have fallen asleep during the middle of it.

If she was looking for any more evidence as to how awful Finn's nightmares were then the screaming and flinching body beside her was all the proof she needed. There was a sheen of sweat of his forehead as he continued to yell and twitch beside her. She sat up and pulled his head into her lap and tried to calm him down by running a hand through his hair but that had no effect.

Her sleep fogged mind struggled for other options to help calm him down and it fell back on doing what she did best. She began humming the simple melody to "Hush, Little Baby" which helped somewhat but as she finished the lullaby he began to moan and twitch again. Her mind flailed about again, trying to think of something else to sing. If she had time to reflect upon the moment, she would've found it ironic that she could knew the most iconic songs to ever be sung yet she couldn't remember a single one at that second.

So, she began humming what amounted to be long random notes and, as she continued to hum, the notes began to connect and form a melody. As more and more of her notes added to the melody, she finally recognized what the song was and, since Finn had begun to calm down again, she switched to singing the lyrics.

Lay down
Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You have come to journey's end
Sleep now
And dream of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across the distant shore

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away
Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon
Why do the white gulls call
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn
To silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass

Hope fades
Into the world of night
Through shadows falling
Out of memory and time
Don't say
We have come now to the end
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again

And you'll be here in my arms
Just sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon
Why do the white gulls call
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn
To silver glass
A light on the water
Grey ships pass
Into the west…

As Rachel finished the song, she saw that Finn had calmed down considerably from when she first saw him. After waiting for a bit, it didn't seem like he would go back to his previous state and Rachel finally relaxed. With nothing left to do, she continued to caress his forehead as she settled back into the sofa, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep again.

Two thoughts popped into her head as she nodded off. One, she was going to have a sore neck from this awful sleeping position in the morning and two, Finn had better damn well appreciate her for what she just did.

A/N 2: Rachel sings "Into the West" by Annie Lennox at the end. And here I thought that this would be a short chapter.

Even though I might not have used their specific suggestions, I need to thank CarmenMauri and mida212 and her friends for giving my brain a jumpstart for this chapter because I had nothing before their help.

I might, might, have another update ready before Christmas. Don't get your hopes up or anything though. Also, Moonlighting curse ftw.