A/N- Hello readers and fellow Finchelings! Thanks for hanging around and reading reviewing and following my drivel… well, maybe it's not allbad if you keep coming back for more? ;)
I also wanna take a quick moment to say thanks to all of you who've sent me well wishes for my health, it is very appreciated. I figure it's time to just go ahead and explain the situation - because I really don't know how it's gonna affect me in the near future, so maybe you'd wanna understand what's going on if I suddenly go off grid... Just over 3 months ago I found out I had breast cancer. 2 months ago I had a double mastectomy. And this month I'll probably start chemo. So there it all is, the facts and nothing but, and so you can all probably surmise the ebbs and tides of my writing patterns going forward. I'm doing well, I have a great support system, I'm in good spirits (even if I'm still awful sore from the surgery and 100 other lab-rat type things they're doing to me these days)... but I am - at least at this moment - cancer free and a survivor.
So... I had this story inspiration hit me at about the exact same time that I started Never Stop Believin'. I'm trying to decide if these conflicting story types means I'm schizophrenic or just been OD'ing on too many finchel fics. :P I've been reading a whole lot of MickeyWrangle fics and PoliticsAndProse fics among several others lately. Maybe it was reading 'Rachel Rises'- which inevitably had me thinking of Cory and being sad then thinking of losing our Finn and 5x3 and… well. That dark place I guess is what led me to this particular storyline…. If you have not read Rachel Rises I BEG you to do so, but also I caution you; it's got some very dark themes in it. Excellent story though. And as I'm pretty sure all Finchel writers will tell you, they ALWAYS get their happily ever after…
With that in mind, this new story is gonna SEEM really NOT happy or fairytale-like… you're just gonna have to trust me :) But anyway I was feeling like I needed more ANGST & DRAMA in my life (lol) so here it is, spilling out from my keyboard to your screen for your masochistic enjoyment.. Just remember what I said about Finchel writers!
"Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness." – Desmond Tutu
So now, without further ado let the darkness unfold! :D
— KURT'S POV —
Finn is dead. He's really gone.
None of it makes sense. I'm still struggling to believe it myself. Just when I think I found a renewed foothold in reality, the world shifts again and I have to keep reminding myself - he's gone. He's really forever gone. It's like a nightmare I can't wake from. I can't believe I'll never see or hear from my brother again.
Then there's poor Carole. She'll never see her son again, never hug him, see his smile or hear his laugh. I truly can't believe the degree of tangible pain that can be physically felt just by standing in the same room as a mother who's learned her child - her only child - is gone from this earth… I felt my own soul tear just hearing the sounds of her alternating from keening, to lashing out in fits of intense rage, to nearly inhuman guttural noises. I don't want to remember that day. I don't want to feel her pain, but it's too late. I already do. Dad did everything he could think of that day and every day since to console the inconsolable but he knew ultimately it was an exercise in futility; time was going to be the only thing to ease her suffering, if she was lucky. IN the meantime he called her doctor and got her a prescription for Xanax. I don't think it's helping much, but at least she's sleeping.. A little.
And then… dear god, there's our Diva.
If seeing and hearing Carole's reaction was a waking nightmare that tore my soul, Rachel's put the rest of it in a wood chipper. That poor girl. He was unquestionably her soulmate – they were each other's halves. They were FINCHEL, destined for their fairy tale ending. We all waited so long for those two to finally get their acts together and quit making all those stupid mistakes… they all seem so petty and insignificant now. And just when they'd finally hit their stride and he was ready to put the ring on her finger – for real this time, not that silly high school desperate act nonsense – this happened. I think something in her broke that day, maybe forever.
She still hasn't gone to visit his grave; in fact she'd refused to go to the funeral at all. She wouldn't even acknowledge there was a service being held for him. Turns out that was probably for the best after all, since the day after the service she wound up in the hospital for 4 days, sleep deprived, malnourished and dehydrated. I still don't think she's eating enough – and for a vegan, it's a dangerous game she's playing, and it won't take much to send her right back to the ER. But I don't think she cares. Her dads have considered a 5150 involuntary commitment if she doesn't at least take care enough to EAT everyday with any measure of regularity.
It's been over two months and to this day she still refuses to accept any of this as the new reality. A world without Finn is not a world she comprehends. None of us do, but we feel his absence and we grieve his loss. We've come to accept the reality; she's just living in her own alternate version with him still in it. I still visit her daily; I've even spent weekends with her, and all she can talk about is what will happen when Finn gets back. She tells me over and over she still feels him, she senses he is not dead. I've never been one much to buy into the paranormal, but maybe just maybe his spirit is haunting her? That's the only reasonable explanation I can come up with - if you can consider the possible need for a Ghost Hunters intervention as reasonable.
I remember talking to Finn after he broke up with Quinn following Jean Sylvester's funeral. He'd explained how his feeling of connection to Rachel was the same as Sue described having with her sister. At the time, his explanation felt very Bronte or Austen, in an overly romantic teen drama after school special sort of way. I have to admit, they sometimes did exhibit real signs of that so-called 'tether'... Rachel would grab her phone, poised to answer it even before the first ring even as Finn was dialing her - this happened A LOT (and sort of went both ways). Or Finn would begin a sentence and she would finish it, even if she wasn't in the room at the time to hear what he was saying to begin with. It was truly creepy sometimes. But that was them. They got each other in a whole different way than any other two people I can think of.
Still, even if they had that kind of connection, it's really hard to believe it extends to what Rachel describes now. I wish it were true, but the circumstances are impossible. The accident happened, and we may never know the actual cause. All they found was some charred remains of his passport inside his rented car which had flipped in a narrow pass and caught fire. He was there, without question.
I curse the day he signed up for that music study program in Austria. It was supposed to be one month as part of his final semester at college, and now the damn Glockner Mountains will forever serve as his final resting place for all of eternity. In the mountain ravine where it happened, even if he somehow was thrown from the car, he couldn't have possibly survived the harsh climate or the injuries he absolutely would've sustained. It's high altitude and in the middle of nowhere. The terrain was just too steep, too rocky, and there's just so much snow that hypothermia alone would have been his worst enemy. The search and rescue teams spent weeks doing aerial fly-bys, as well as sending seasoned mountain rescue teams on foot doing sweeps of the area. There was no trace of his remains found in the car, but also no evidence of Finn anywhere in that narrow mountain pass. They explained the lack of remains with phrases like buried in an avalanche or wildlife interference (and unholy hell I don't like to think about that). Of course it didn't help that a late spring snow storm hit, laying down 18 inches of fresh powder during the search and recovery process. There was literally no hope of locating anything to bury.
It took Carole a solid month after the Austrian authorities called off the search before finally making the decision to have a memorial service. She needed closure. She needed a physical place to visit and grieve and go through whatever a mother needs to go through to keep waking up each day and breathing somehow. The otherwise empty casket contained something personal from everyone who attended his service as well as a set of Finn's drumsticks. I made sure to add photos of him and Rachel and a CD of their recording of 'Faithfully' from sophomore year regionals. I think he'd like that very much. I'm sure she would too, if she were in her right mind.
All the while that Carole made funeral arrangements, Rachel was still calling his cell phone number multiple times a day, if for nothing else than just to hear his voice on the recorded greeting. She was still looking through bridal magazines and planning their wedding and listening to 'Pretending' from our 2011 Nationals on a continuous loop. I really thought we'd lost her entirely at one point, like I honestly thought I'd be visiting her on family days at the Lima Psychiatric Hospital forever.
Of all the people to come to Rachel's rescue during the worst, darkest of times, I would have never guessed it would be Noah Puckerman. He managed somehow to get through to her, to get her to eat, sleep, and even shower occasionally. He did his best to get her to at least try to accept and begin grieving. They've been spending long hours just sitting quietly doing and saying absolutely nothing at all. He never did tell me or anyone else what they've been actually talking about – when they talk at all – but whatever it is, it's been working. At least she's maintaining a healthier weight and hasn't required further medical attention. I can only hope it stays this way, though I do wish she would open up to me. As her best friend I expected it was my role to be her rock, but as his brother, maybe it hits too close to her emotional epicenter, even just seeing me. Never thought I would say these words, but thank Gaga for Noah Puckerman.
