A/N: 8 chapters later, and it is finally done. Thank you to everyone who has shown their appreciation for this story, and thanks to CSM, without whom, I would have never thought of writing something like this at all.


And I'm shaking then I'm still

When your eyes meet mine I lose simple skills

Like to tell you all I want is now


They're taking things slow. Like, really, really slow. But like Santana said before, at least they're moving, right? He wonders when the day will be where she'd stop looking at him like she's asking for permission before she kisses him or hold his hand, but they're getting there. It's the start of a new relationship after all, and he wants her to have the best version of one that she can possibly have, and if that means pretending for a while that he doesn't know exactly all the ways she likes to be held, then that's what it means.

Besides, there's something about the way she tentatively threads her fingers through his as she looks away with a smile, her cheeks staining pink. Or the way she announces out loud, every time she's about to hug him, like she's afraid she'll scare him off otherwise or something. It's kind of adorable, and he knows it's her way of showing just how important this is to her too.

There's this small smile she perpetually has on her face, and every time she catches him looking, she blushes before she turns away, that smile getting just a little wider. It drives him crazy, and it kind of makes him want to just kiss her all the time, which he does, sometimes just to see the way her eyes light up when he does it. The first time they go grocery shopping together, which was just a week ago, her smile was so wide that he couldn't help himself from leaning down to kiss her every ten minutes or so. He's pretty sure the cashier rolled her eyes at them at least five times while they were waiting in line, but they can't help it.

They're just happy.

The only thing that is moving fast between them is the fact that she's moved into the bedroom for good now, and he's in it too. The initial plan to take things slow had included sleeping in separate beds, but that lasted for about two days, until she had woke him up in the middle of the night, dark circles under her eyes as she sits at the edge of the couch.

"What's wrong?" he had asked, his voice raw from sleep.

Her eyes filled up with tears, and from the way she's hugging herself so tightly around her waist, he had the feeling he knew what it was about.

"I had a nightmare," she whispered as he sits up to pull her close. She took his hand without a word and he followed her as she led him to the bedroom. They spent the night laying side by side, not touching, but facing each other until her eyes fluttered close. It had been an unspoken agreement between them ever since, when the same thing happened the next day.

He loves to watch her when she sleeps, because it feels like the only time she ever really gets to let all her guards down. She's still a little closed off around him when she's awake, and sometimes he gets the feeling that she thinks there are parts of her that he won't love. Her neurotic side is always present, no matter what her last name is. It just shows itself in different ways. She's carefree when she sleeps, knowing that he's beside her, and he loves every little thing about her, from the way her tiny limbs feel like they're everywhere in the middle of the night, when he wakes up to find a leg on his stomach or an arm draped across his forehead, to the way she drools a little and gets really embarrassed about it when she wakes up and hastily wipes it away.

She mumbles in her sleep, incoherent words in soft whispers, and at first he worries that it might be her nightmares, but she giggles once, and she says his name once, and now all he does is grin like an idiot when he hears those indistinct whispers.

They're taking things slow, but things are kind of perfect just the way they are.

Xxx

They talk about her past, about her marriage and about her childhood, and all the things he's ever wanted to know but was too cautious to ask before. He now knows about Ellie, her old stuffed pig, the one she had bashfully pulled out from the bottom of her suitcase, its pink color fading and stuffing leaking out of an open seam.

"She was my bestfriend when I was a kid," she tells him, a little embarrassed. "Actually, she was my bestfriend until I realized that talking to a stuffed animal is the kind of thing that gets you into a straighjacket."

She tells him she loved to sing when she was a child, how she used to stay up at night after her mom had gone to bed, pulling out all her mother's old DVDs and memorizing every single one of Fanny Brice's lines by the time she was eight.

She tells him about her mother, and that's a little harder to fish out. He doesn't push her, but she cries in his arms when she tells him how Shelby had came home drunk when she was fifteen, and freaked out to find her watching The Way We Were, screaming at Rachel that she'll never let her only daughter ruin her future over some silly dream.

"That was the last time I ever sang in front of her," she whispers. "She just- she scared me so much, and I- I know she's right. But I just-"

"She's not."

"What?"

"She's not right," he tells her, pulling away to look her in the eye. "Rachel, you- you're amazing, and you don't even know it."

She shakes her head, but he won't let this go.

"Look, trust me, okay? You made it Rachel. I used to sit in the front row of every performance you gave, and you nailed it, every single time. You made it off-Broadway, and you'll make it to Broadway, I just know it. You just- you just have to believe in yourself."

She turns away from him, extricating herself from his grasp as she frowns.

"I think we've established before that I'm not Rachel Berry."

"That's not-"

"You need to stop trying to turn me into her Finn," she tells him shortly as she stands, stalking towards their room. The door slams behind her and he stares at it, mouth agape.

She doesn't open it for hours, and when it's close to ten, he decides to try his luck. He opens the door slowly to find her on the bed, turned away from him. Cautiously, he makes his way over to her to find her eyes closed, her breathing even. He sighs as he walks to his side of the bed, the mattress dipping to accommodate him as he inches himself closer to her.

"I'm sorry," he whispers when he's right next to her. She doesn't answer and he leans over her to turn off the bedside lamp. He stares up into the darkness for five minutes before he feels her shifting closer to him, her hand finding his in the dark.

"I'm sorry too," she tells him. He breathes a sigh of relief, turning to wrap an arm around her. She burrows herself further into his arms, and it's silent as they lie together.

"I believe in you," he says quietly.

"I know."

Xxx

"I wanna take you somewhere," he says as they walk hand in hand down the stairs of their apartment. He's taking her on a date. A real date, that doesn't involve school dances, Santana's drunken insinuations in a noisy club, or quiet nights holed up in their home.

He's taking her to her first Broadway show. She had been excited all week, randomly calling him up while he was at school to ask him again if it's the right show, or the right time, or the right day, right up until he lets her keep their tickets for safekeeping.

"After Rock of Ages?" she asks, her fingers tightening around him at the mention of the show. He grins, shaking his head.

"Nope. Next weekend."

"Oh. Where are we going?"

"Lima. It's my mom's birthday."

She stops abruptly at the bottom of the stairs, and he turns to find her looking up at him apprehensively.

"You're taking me to see your family?" she asks nervously.

"Yeah. It'll be great."

"I- Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"But- but what if they don't like me?"

"They're going to love you," he tells her affectionately, leaning down to kiss her. It doesn't seem to make her feel better.

"Kurt doesn't," she mumbles. He sighs, pulling against her hand as they continue walking.

"He likes you, he just- he's not used to it yet, you know, this whole thing."

"Well, then what if your mom feels the same way?"

"She doesn't."

"How do you know?" she demands.

"I just do, okay? My mother loves you."

"You mean she loved Rachel Berry," she answers bitterly, trying to pull her hand away from him. He won't let her.

"No," he insists, smiling down at her pouting face. "It's because you make me so irrevocably, ridiculously, stupidly happy."

Her pout turns into a small smile that turns into a beam as she nudges his shoulder.

"Really?"

"Really, really."

She pretends to think about it for a little while longer before she grins.

"Okay. Now let's go. We're going to be late!"

"We're like, two hours ahead of schedule," he answers dryly, allowing her to pull him along.

Xxx

"Are you sure about this?" Rachel asks nervously as she softly strokes Star's fur to keep her composure.

"Relax," he says. "She'll totally do it."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause she may act like she's a total and complete straight up bitch, but underneath all those razor sharp words is a good heart," he answers, shrugging. He turns to knock on the door.

"For the record, I do not condone the act of putting our bestfriend in a tight spot like this," she mutters as Santana opens her door. She takes one look at the cat in Rachel's arms and the carrier in Finn's hand, and she shakes her head.

"Oh, hell no."

"San-"

"No fucking way. What the hell made you two think for one second that I'll do this?"

"Because underneath all that misplaced anger is a good person?" Rachel asks hopefully.

"Fuck you Berry. The last time that thing came here, it fucking left scratches on my marble floor."

"Santana c'mon. You know we can't take her with us."

"So leave her at a freaking pet hotel or something. Why the hell are you bringing her here?"

"Because you love us?" he says with a wide smile.

"Nice try Strectch, but no."

"Fine. We'll pay you. 300 bucks a day," Finn says. Santana eyes him with interest.

"And why would I agree to this?"

"'Cause you're fucking broke," he tells her wryly.

"You two really need to stop swearing so much," Rachel mutters from the side.

"You make a good point," Santana says, ignoring her. "Fine. But she stays in that damn cage. And I swear Hudson, if she pees, on anything, I will fucking drown her in my bathtub."

Rachel's eye widen in alarm as he rolls his, her hold on Star tightening as the cat mewls and burrows closer against her.

"Deal," he says.

xxx

They meet Kurt at the airport, and he's a total bitch, barely acknowledging any of Rachel's attempts to be friendly. He sees her deflating with each brush-off, until she excuses herself, kissing his cheek before getting up off her seat.

"Cut it out," he hisses under his breath when Rachel makes her way to the toilet. "You're being an ass."

Kurt turns to look at him with the worst 'surprised' look he has ever seen.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Kurt," he says warningly. "I'm serious. Be nice. She's trying really hard to get you to like her."

Kurt looks at him, their gazes holding for a moment before his brother sighs.

"I just don't trust her. What if she-"

"She won't."

"You don't even know what I'm about to say."

"No, but I know what you're thinking, and she won't okay? She loves me."

"She loved you before," Kurt says pointedly. He sighs, rolling his eyes.

"You know that's different."

"So? What if something like that happens again? I saw what she did to you Finn. She really messed you up. I just-"

"Kurt please," he cuts in, slightly annoyed. "That wasn't exactly her fault. It wasn't her fault at all actually."

Kurt doesn't say a word, but he looks out at the direction Rachel went, turning back to Finn when he sees that she's nowhere in sight.

"Remember what you told me?" he asks quietly, looking down at the glass of champagne in his hand. "When we were sixteen?"

"What does-"

"At our parents wedding?" Kurt stresses, ignoring his response. "You remember what you said?"

He nods, wondering just where in heck Kurt is going with this.

"You told me that we're brothers now, and that you were going to have my back no matter what, 'cause- 'cause I'm family. Remember that?"

"Yeah," he says, his annoyance dissipating just a little. "Yeah I remember."

"Remember what happened a few weeks later?"

Finn shakes his head, grinning slightly.

"I got suspended for beating the crap out of Dave Karofsky when he tried to mess with you."

"You protected me," Kurt tells him solemnly. "Because that's what families do. I just- I never told you before, but you know it goes both ways, right?"

"I know Kurt."

"So I just- I don't want to just stand around and watch you get hurt all over again. I just- I don't trust her."

He says nothing, honestly surprised by how much this is affecting his brother.

"Then trust me," he finally says. Kurt opens his mouth to speak again, but he plows through. "Trust me, and the fact that I know this is right. I love her Kurt."

"I know you do."

"Great. So, you know, try? For me?"

Kurt purses his lips before he sighs.

"Fine. But for the love of God Finn, take the woman to another show. If I have to listen about what a revelation Rock of Ages is one more time, I will seriously glue her mouth shut."

He grins.

"I promise."

xxx

His mom's birthday is on Saturday, and they arrive on Friday night. They find his mom and Burt waiting for them anxiously at the arrivals gallery. Kurt, in his effort to be nicer to Rachel, does the introductions all over again, and as she shyly holds out her hand for a handshake, his mom pulls her into a bear hug. Rachel freezes for a moment as she looks at him a little helplessly and he smiles when she starts to relax and returns the gesture. His mom gives the best hugs ever, as evident by the smile on his girlfriend's face.

His mom loves her.

And like he told Rachel before, of course she does. He knows Rachel is a little taken aback by her enthusiasm, but she doesn't let it show. And his mom's trying really hard not to overwhelm her either, since he's warned her that it might be a bit much for Rachel. But they're both trying really hard to please the other, and it's just another reminder of why he loves them both as much as he does, because they're doing it for him.

"I made my famous tuna casserole," his mom tells them. "You'll love it Rachel. It was always your favorite."

"Mom, Rachel's-"

"It sounds great Carole. I'm sure I will," Rachel cuts in, elbowing his ribs before he could tell his mom that she's a vegan.

He hides a smile when she takes a big bite out of her casserole. He doesn't tell her that she never liked his mom's tuna casserole. She pretended that she did the last time too.

She wakes him bright and early the next day, too early for him in fact, and tells him that she wants to see everything there is to see.

"There's really not much to see," he tells her, still half asleep as he takes her in. it's six in the morning and she's already dressed and ready to go as she grins at him, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Regardless," she tells him. "I've never in my life been anywhere outside of New York before."

So he shows her Lima, or as she calls it, his Lima. He shows her the places of his childhood, the same places he's shown her once before.

"So this is where you win all your football games," she teases as they walk through the field of William McKinley High. He snorts, draping his arms casually around her shoulders.

"We were like, the worst football team in history. I think we won like, a handful of games. Granted, I was the Quarterback in all of them," he boasts. She laughs.

"So I guess you were the school hero."

"Not exactly. I mean, yeah I won them a few games, but it didn't change the fact that I was a 'musical fairy'."

"What's that?"

"That's what they used to call the kids in the glee club," he answers, shrugging. "But whatever, you just get used to it after a while."

"Is that how you became a music teacher?" she asks. He nods his head enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I had this awesome teacher, Mr. Schue. He was the one who got me into the club in the first place. I was just a little punk before I met him."

"I have trouble picturing you as little at any given age," she teases.

"Okay fine. Not so little. We never won anything. Well, we actually made it to Regionals once in senior year, but I loved every minute of it."

"We had a glee club at my school. I always wished I could be a part of it," she says wistfully. He smiles, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"If you were around to join us, we would have won everything for sure," he tells her confidently.

"You believe in me too much," she murmurs, blushing.

"You don't believe in yourself enough."

Xxx

He goes upstairs to change when he gets home, and as he walks down the stairs, he vaguely hears Rachel and Kurt talking.

Silently creeping up to the doorway of the kitchen, he tries not to make too much noise, which is actually really hard considering his size, as he listens in.

"I know you don't like me," she tells his brother quietly. He frowns. "I just- can you just please tell me why?"

"I don't have any problems with you."

"You're lying."

"Look, Rachel, you're a nice girl, and Finn loves you, and I guess that's good enough for me, so-"

"Well it's not good enough for me, okay? I want you to like me Kurt. I just- I don't want anyone Finn loves to hate me."

"I don't hate you Rachel," Kurt says in surprised.

"Well you could have fooled me," she mutters. He holds his breath through the few seconds of silence, before Kurt starts speaking again.

"He loves you."

"I know. I love him too."

"It seriously messed with him, you know? When you forgot who he was. He just- I've never seen him that torn up about anything. And it's- I know it's not your fault Rachel, okay? But I can't help it. I just- what If it happens again? What if you forget him, or- or fall out of love with him, if you hurt him again. I just don't want to see my brother go through the same thing he did. If it happens again, it'll kill him."

His brows furrow, both in frustration and anger at Kurt's words, and he's about to step out and speak up on her behalf, when Rachel finally breaks the silence.

"I know," she tells him quietly. He stays where he is. "I- I feel the same way, in the beginning. I tried. I tired to stay away from him, because I thought that I would only hurt him, but I couldn't. I just- I realized something through everything that has happened. I realized that it doesn't matter. Even if by some crazy stroke of bad luck, I forget everything again, Finn, he'll- he'll make me remember. It doesn't matter who I am Kurt, it doesn't matter where I am, because- because we're meant to be together. It feels like, like even if I hadn't been Rachel Berry, even if I had been myself all this time, our paths would have still crossed, you know? It was only a matter of time. I know that."

She lets out a short laugh, and he pictures her rueful smile, the self-deprecating turn of her lips.

"That's about the only thing I know, really. No matter where I am, not matter who I am, he'll always be the one for me."

The deafening silence of the house could only be matched by the loud thumping of his heart, beating more and more erratically with every word she says, as he leans against the wall, bowled over and once again having his breath taken away by the tiny woman standing in his kitchen.

"That was beautiful," Kurt whispers, and he smiles, because it is.

It really, really is.

Xxx

He's quiet all throughout his mom's birthday dinner as they sit side by side, their fingers interlocked under the dinner table. He watches as she laughs along to a joke Burt just made. She fits in with his parents, and after her heart to heart with Kurt, she fits in with his brother too.

She just fits with every single part of him. He knew this before, and he knows it now. It's just like she said, they're meant to be. It's been almost a year since he lost her and found her again, and he figures it won't be long until he sees the ring on her finger again, where it belongs.

"She's wonderful," his mom whispers as they clear the table together. She leans up to kiss his cheek, her eyes shining as she smiles. "I'm so happy for you Finn."

"Thanks mom," he says, grinning. "Happy Birthday, by the way. I know we all sang it to you, but I figured you'd like to hear it."

"Thanks honey. It is, it's a very happy birthday, because you're happy, and that's all I've ever wanted. You are happy, aren't you Finn?"

"Yeah," he answers, smiling ruefully as he leaves the dirty plates on the table to give her a hug. "Yeah I am."

Xxx

He trudges up the stairs to his room, the smile he's had since earlier in the day still held in place.

It's been a pretty perfect day.

Pushing his door open, he hears her gasp before he sees her, standing in the middle of the room in her underwear, with her shirt hanging off her neck.

"Finn!" she cries, her voice strangled. "Close the door!"

"Oh! Sorry!" he apologizes hastily, quickly closing the door behind him. She had turned on his bedside lamp, so it's not all that bright. But even from this light, he can see every single inch of her skin reddening as she tries to pull her shirt down as quickly as she can. But his eye catches the long gash along the left side of her abdomen before she could cover it up. He walks over to her without thinking, holding out one hand to stop her movements.

"Is that from the accident?" he asks quietly, pulling her shirt up to trace one finger over her long scar. "I've never seen this before."

Her skin is on fire as his finger moves from the space just below her ribs to wear the scar stops, slightly above the waistband of her panties. The light from his bedside lamp casts shadows against her skin, and he narrows his eyes for a clearer view.

"Yeah," she whispers quietly, her voice trembling.

"Did it hurt?" he asks, his fingers spanning across her hipbone to hold her. "I just- I've always wanted to ask you, but well, there was a lot going on."

"I barely noticed the pain through everything else," she answers honestly, inching herself closer to him. Her movement startles him, and that's when he realizes their positions. She's looking up at him through her lashes, and his mouth turns a little dry. He hasn't seen her this way since before the accident. Her face is burning up and he realizes that to her knowledge, she hasn't been around him this way ever.

"I-"

"Are there any others?" he asks, his voice coming off huskier than usual. His fingers trail up to her navel of their own accord as he feels her stomach caving in slightly from his touch. "From the accident?"

She stares up at him curiously, her eyes darkening as she holds her breath.

"There's- there's another one, right here," she says quietly, pulling away from him to pull her shirt over his head. She stands in front of him, in her bra and panties, as she points to a discolored space under her left arm. He smiles when he sees it.

"That's not from the accident," he tells her.

"It's not?"

"No, that was-" He laughs as he remembers. "That was when you and Santana were convinced that she was strong enough to do that Dirty Dancing move with you, you know, the one where the guy holds the girl up in the air? Only, she totally wasn't, and I got a call at school from the doctor. You had to get four stitches for that."

She looks at him, dumbfounded.

"I- What else about my body don't I know?" she asks incredulously.

"Well," he says, reaching over to her to turn her around. She shivers slightly as he runs his finger slowly from the top of her right shoulder to stop under her shoulder blade. "Did you know you have a small scar? Right here."

"No," she answers, appalled as she turns her head around to get a look. He grins, shaking his head.

"You need a mirror to see this one."

"I was really clumsy when I was Rachel Berry, huh?" she asks in a quiet voice, looking up at him. His finger still rests on her back, and he slowly moves it to her arm, wrapping his hand around it to turn her back around.

"That was kind of my fault," he admits sheepishly, his breath a little caught in his throat when she places her palms flat against his chest. "I might have bowled you over one day in the music room, and you might have fallen back against the drums."

She grins as he wraps his arms around her, his thumb brushing soothingly against the small scar at her back.

"Might have?"

"By that I mean totally did."

She throws back her head as she laughs.

"You're a dangerous man Finn Hudson," she whispers in a soft voice as she stands up on her tiptoes, waiting expectantly for him lean down and kiss her.

There's a beat of a second where he could practically the blood rushing through his ears when he looks down at her.

"You can kiss me," she whispers, amusement lacing her voice at his pause, but he hears the nerves too. "You know, if you want to."

He does, leaning down to crush his lips against hers, pulling her up towards him.

Her skin burns up under his touch, and God, he's touching her everywhere, his hands roaming across her bare back to rest on the slight dip just above her hips. She moans against him when he pulls her closer, her hands making their way under his shirt. He sucks in his breath when he feels the cool brush of her tiny fingers against his heated skin.

They're going further than they've ever been, and as much as his brain is telling him to stop and asks her if she's sure, the rest of him is saying that this is it, the right moment.

She tastes sweet, like the strawberries they had for dessert, with the slightest bitter taste of coffee present, and when he pulls away, a small pout makes its way onto her face, until he trails his lips to the curve of her jaw. She moans his name, her hands gripping the back of his head as he pulls her up completely, her legs locking around his waist. He runs his tongue from the soft skin of her neck to the top of her clavicle, nipping it gently, his heart racing.

"Finn," she gasps, pulling him back up to look at her. Her eyes are wild as she looks at him, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. His knees hit the edge of the bed, and he looks down in confusion for a split second. He didn't realize they were even moving in the first place. All coherent thought flies out the window however, when he hears her shallow breath against his ear, her tongue against his skin.

"I want you," he whispers urgently against her lips. "God, Rachel. I want you so much."

The air between them mingles together, short, stunted gasps of breaths filling the room. His eyes flutter shut as her teeth graze against his swollen lips.

"You have me," she whispers back, her hold on him tightening as he slowly lowers her down on the mattress.

"Are you- are you sure?" he asks quietly as he pulls away. Her fingers are nimbly unbuttoning his dress shirt, and she trembles as one of his hands cups around the soft flesh of her chest, still covered in her bra. Her hair is wild, fanning out against the blue and white stripes of his pillows, and she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, her flushed cheeks and her swollen lips and her glazed eyes sending a sharp spike of desire straight through his entire body.

"Yes," she whispers forcefully. "Please- please don't stop."

He smiles down at her, fingers trembling as they slide under her back to find the clasp of her bra.

"I won't," he promises, leaning down to kiss her again.

Xxx

"You have another one right here," he whispers against the inside of her thigh, his lips moving over a small scar. "I always wondered where this was from."

"Third grade," she whispers breathlessly. "I had an accident with a pair of scissors- Oh. God. Don't stop."

Xxx

"Rachel," he breathes out against her skin as she reaches out to touch him, guiding him towards her.

He could tell her he knows every inch of her like the back of his hands, but he doesn't.

She's guiding him home.

"I love you," she whispers, her words strangled in her throat as he fills her. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he grunts, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"I love you too."

Xxx

His head is on her chest as he listens to her heartbeats, slowly coming down from their initial high. The sweat on her skin is starting to dry up, and as she runs her fingers softly through his hair, he hears her humming a melody.

He smiles against her skin, pulling his head up to look at her.

"I love that song," he tells her quietly.

"I know," she says, smiling down at him. "I heard it in your truck today."

They share a quiet look between them, and it feels like a promise.

Like the start of forever.

He slides up against her, rolling his body to rest playfully over her as she giggles.

"If I just happen to ask you to marry me," he whispers against her lips, his hands roaming her sides. "How much would that freak you out?"

There's a moment where her eyes grow large in surprise, before her face stretches out into a large beam.

"Why prolong the inevitable?" she whispers.

He leans down to press a hard kiss on her lips, grinning wide.

He wonders if anyone could literally burst from happiness.

"Yeah?" he asks, excited. She laughs.

"Yeah. It's like that song says," she tells him playfully, wrapping her arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair. "I'm forever yours."

"Faithfully?" he teases. She nods with a giggle, leaning up to kiss him.

"Faithfully."

"Sing it for me," he tells her, turning on his back, pulling her with him.

And she does.


You sing and I'm killed

I'm just not the same

As I was a year ago

And each minute since then


A/N: Yes I know. I should never attempt a love scene ever again. That was just bad... and awkward, and i should probably remove it. I might just do that another time, when I'm not half-asleep.

Lyrics to Set Down Your Glass by Snow Patrol