hey guys! This is chapter four of hunted and in this chapter Finn and Rachel get really . . . close. It's cute but sad at the same time so beware lol! Alright so enjoy guys and tell me what you think please! If you have any constructive criticism, explain in the review board:)

Chapter Four:

If It Wasn't For Rachel Berry

Finn hurries down to the kitchen, his backpack gripped tightly in his hands as the time to get to school becomes shorter. He grabs an apple sitting on the kitchen counter, making his way towards his truck before a male voice stops him from behind.

"Finn," Will calls, his voice serious, "can I talk to you for a second?"

He turns towards the older man, anxiety crawling up him as the seconds tick by. He swallows thickly. "Uhm, yeah, what's wrong?"

Will sighs, and runs a frustrating hand across his face. He walks closer towards Finn, his eyes evident with concern. "I just checked the news and . . . there's been several murders in Carmel, not a couple hours from here. All of the evidence are pointing towards the work of a gang and, well, we just think – "

"You think they followed me from New York?" Finn rasps out. His throat suddenly clenches at the throat, and it seems harder to breathe as the information settles through him. "H-How is that possible? I left in disguise I-I . . . I thought the plan went smoothly and – "

Will interrupts as he waves his hands in front of his face, signaling him to stop talking. Finn looks at him in question, his lungs still burning from his rant. "It was just a warning, just making sure you know who to trust, who to communicate with. Don't get yourself involved with the wrong people again, you have to watch out for yourself, especially with the chance of them still being out there," Will tells him, his fatherly instincts kicking in.

Finn nods in understanding. "I'll make sure to be careful then," he says, "I don't think anyone wants a repeat of what happened last year." He gives Will a reassuring smile before biting hard into his apple. He waves his hand in goodbye as he makes his way towards his truck. He climbs in the driver's seat, starting the vehicle when he inserts the key in the ignition. The truck comes to life as he pulls out of the driveway.

You have to watch out for yourself, especially with the chance of them still being out there. The words continue to go on repeat in his head, like some stupid song. Fuck his past, fuck his luck, fuck him. They couldn't have followed him here; it's impossible. He escaped in the highest level of procedure; no one had noticed him. It's not like he brought anything from his past here, other than his unwanted memories, they have no lead on how to find him . . . right?

Finn breathes out heavily, trying to shake his mind from the distracting thoughts as he pulls into the school parking lot. He gets out of the truck, and pulls his backpack tightly over his shoulder. Walking into the interior of the school, Finn makes his way to his locker, inwardly groaning at the reminder of going to gym first period.

He stands before his locker, dialing the combination on his lock to open it. Shoving his backpack inside, he grabs his gym clothes to pulls them out. Finn turns around, his senses buzzing as he collides into a firm chest. He looks up, meeting the eyes of Puck, and some other punks from his gym class.

He resists the urge to roll his eyes at them. "Can you move please?" he barely hisses out, staring down at Puck. The mohawked man smirks, squeezing the green slushie in his hand. Why the hell is he still drinking that childhood garbage anyways?

"I'm sorry are we in your way?" one of the bulkier of the few ask, his eyebrow rising in amusement. Finn sighs, moving to the side to walk around them, only to be blocked as Puck moves in sync with him. He looks at them in annoyance, a humorless chuckle escaping his gritted teeth.

"This is really immature," Finn tells them, his hands balling into fists. Don't loose your control; don't show them how powerful you really are. You'd kill them. He relaxes his fingers, unclenching them to dangle at his side.

Puck glances at his teammates, a smirk permanent on his face. "We just want to welcome you to the school actually," he shrugs, "by giving you the old 'New Kid' treatment."

Is that what the slushie's for?

He opens his mouth to speak, watching in caution as Puck lifts the slushie in his hands. Finn moves to take it, his hands passing by Puck's and he looks at the man in front of him in confusion. He notices what's going on about a second before the blue sheet of ice splashes against his face, hitting like a bitch. It was like running face first into an iceberg.

He lets out a small gasp at the cold substance, syrup dripping endlessly on the hood above his eyes. The slushie is blue, but he sees red as he looks up at Puck through the droplets of the drink. His hands ball into fists again at the laughing man, and his control suddenly explodes when he steps forward.

Soft hands grab his, and he snaps away from Puck to get rid of the person touching him. He freezes when he looks into those familiar, brown eyes.

Rachel.

Finn knows she's knowingly stopping him from doing something regretful, and he relaxes a little in her hold. Her expression is sympathetic, caring, and he enjoys her concern for him. The laughter surrounding him becomes barely audible as Rachel begins to pull on his hand, away from the crowd that formed to make fun of him.

"Yeah let the expert help you, she's been through much worse," Puck exclaims as they begin to walk away. Finn stops in his tracks, the warmth that Rachel sends him as she squeezes his hand the only reason he doesn't turn around to beat the shit out of the fucking jackass. "Don't," she whispers, "he's not worth it."

He nods, it's the only thing he can because of the fucking slushie that's sticking to his mouth and lips and skin. He allows her to walk him through the staring students, some of them snickering and whispering into each other's ears at the blue monster passing by them. Rachel seems to realize it too because she begins to walk faster, pulling him closer towards her.

She stops in front of the girl's bathroom, and turns towards Finn shyly. "Stay here for a second, I'm just going to check if it's clear," she tells him before slipping in. He stands there, desperately trying to ignore the continuous looks that he receives as people walk by him. Of course no teacher notices, of course no supervisor is aware that this even happened.

The bathroom door swings open and Rachel steps out, grabbing both his hands and pulling him inside. He stalls temporarily at the view of the girl's bathroom; it seriously looked exactly like the boys.

Rachel pushes past him to lock the door, and brings him over to the centre. She sets a stool beside the sink, and sets her backpack on one of them. She guides him towards the stool and sits him down on it, leaning him backwards. The back of his head rests against the edge of the sink, and Rachel grabs a towel from her backpack, damping it slightly.

Finn watches her work from his seat on the stool, his eyes seeing her every move. "How many times has this happened to you?" he questions as she leans down next to him. She presses the cloth against his face, wiping some of the blue slush from his skin.

"Plenty. You're lucky you don't have long hair," she replies as she runs a hand through his messy locks. She turns the tap on and washes his hair, applying the shampoo she brought to his scalp. "I always come prepared, it happens on a weekly basis."

Finn fidgets in his seat. "Why? Why are you the target?" he asks. Just the image of Rachel running in here every week, different colours of slushie's running down her body makes him want to punch the stupid Puck guy in the face a lot more than he realized.

She hesitates beside him. "You can say I kind of . . . started the slushie trend," she tells him, not saying anything else. She runs her fingers along his scalp, scrubbing the substance out as Finn continues to stare at her, his eyes urging her to continue.

Rachel sighs, and he knows it's a sign of her caving in. "Believe it or not, Puck and I used to date," she laughs humorlessly, "and I actually used to have friends. I was best friends with Quinn Fabray a year ago, in grade eleven." Finn stalls at the name, a picture of the touchy blonde popping his mind. He shakes his head; this is not the time to be thinking of Quinn when Rachel is right beside him.

"I told her every detail, and I trusted her with everything. At the time, she was the friend who would hold you through all the drama, comfort you through all the pain," she pauses, "I can't believe I didn't see through her act."

She turns the tap off, ruffling his hair dry in an extra towel she brought. He sits up in the stool as she begins to press the damp cloth against the slushie attached to other parts of his body. "At the end of grade eleven, when Puck and I were getting serious and I was thinking of . . . giving myself to him, he started to act really distant. I asked Quinn if she knew of anything that was going on and she told me not to worry." Rachel takes a deep breath, her breath hot against his skin. "I saw them making out behind the Ferris Wheel at the summer fair."

Finn's eyes soften at her words, reaching out to wipe away the single tear that treads down her cheek. His fingers linger on her skin, and he can't help but turn red at the soft texture. "So there I was, standing there with my red slushie in hand and I . . . well I threw it on the two of them. Everyone saw and started laughing and they got so embarrassed and mad at me, like I was the one who was doing something wrong. When I asked him why he cheated on me, he told me it was because I was a total prude, and that he 'banged' Quinn after only one night.

"He told everyone to stay away from me because I stunk of celibacy, and started throwing slushie's at me every week to 'pay back for that one time.' Quinn turned her back on me, didn't apologize because she said I was 'bringing down her rep anyways'." The damp cloth she's using presses much harder on his face, and pulls her hand back slightly at the harsh pressure. She stares up at him through her swollen eyes, and God, those eyes are like kryptonite they're so beautiful. It'll never make sense to him why anyone would torture someone so . . . angelic.

Finn knows he should say something comforting, but he feels its better to stay silent, let her take her anger and frustration out. He rubs the pad of his thumb gently across her cheek; actions are better than words right? She leans into his hand, wiping the rest of the substance from his face.

"It's funny, my mom used to tell Quinn and I that we could pass as sisters, with how close we were growing up," she mumbles, throwing away the cloth when all the syrup was clear from his face and hair. His shirt was still kind of gross but he couldn't do anything about that.

"And what does your mom say now?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Her eyelids flutter and she looks down.

"My mom, she . . . she left a long time ago."

Finn runs into the kitchen, the sweat mixing with the blood dripping from his forehead. He spots his mom sitting on a chair in the dining room, her face masked in horror at the state her son was in.

"Finn!" she exclaims, rushing to his side. She places his hands on his face, desperately trying to the wipe the tears streaming from his swollen eyes. She touches his cut slightly, and he winces at the contact. "What happened baby?"

"They know, mom, they found out. They t-tried to kill m-me and – "

Carole brings his face into the centre of her chest as he begins to sob harshly, his voice muffled by his cries. He holds her tightly against him, needing the comfort of his mother's touch to calm him.

"Sh, sh baby it's okay, I'm not going anywhere. I'll never leave you."

His hand tightens around her face at the memory, staring up at those beautiful brown eyes to find a familiar look in her glare. "I'm so sorry," he tells her sincerely. It's the only thing you can say in situations like these.

"It hurts," she whimpers, "knowing that I lost her but she's still out there you know. She's living her life perfectly fine without me." A few more tears escape, and she bits on her bottom lip. "I guess I wasn't much to loose."

Finn temporarily freezes at her statement. Was this girl insane? He leans forward, pulling her into his lap in a tight hug. Her arms wound around his neck as his lock around her waist. She's insecure; and people are giving her a reason to be. They're forcing her to feel this way, to feel unwanted and unaccepted.

It's disgusting.

"You're so much better than all of them," he whispers into the crook of her neck, "don't let them get to you." She pulls away from him, and he really looks at the girl in front of him, the girl who spilt water on him the first day of school, the girl who is always concerned about him, the girl who lets him copy her work when he doesn't get it, the girl who helps a person she barely knows in situations that have nothing to do with her. The girl who is better than anyone but; doesn't even realize it.

"I know we haven't known each other for a while," he murmurs, pulling back a loose strand of hair from the frame of her face, "but it would really suck if I lost you."

A small smile graces her features as the school bell for second period rings above them.

"It would really suck if I lost my only friend too."

How adorable are these two? Really got some romantic tension going on eh? Also, this story will be reaching its suspense soon, so don't give up just yet! Here are some spoilers for next chapter -

- Finn looses his control

- Flashbacks!

Hehe hope you guys are excited! Okay love you and HAPPY SUPER BOWL SUNDAY WOO! R&R BYE!:D