Shout out to the anon reviewer who told me that they started watching One Tree Hill because of this fic. You're the reason I ended up updating this.
Apparently some people had strong feelings about the last chapter—at which point, I'd like to remind, you, once again, that this is based off of One Tree Hill. Don't watch One Tree Hill if you hate what Finn and Rachel are doing right now. Because trust me, what happened on the show was way worse than the direction I've decided to go with in this story.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The story title comes from the song "Something I Can Never Have" by Nine Inch Nails.
Coming out of a deep sleep, Finn rolled over and reached across the bed for his wife. In the foggy haze of sleep, he was confused—why was the other side of the bed empty? Where was Rachel? She never woke up before him, despite the fact that she was a morning person.
The reason that the space in bed next to him was cold suddenly slammed into him like a freight train. Finn's eyes snapped open, and he stared at the unwrinkled sheets on the other side of the bed. He was the reason that Rachel wasn't in the bed next to him, curled up against his side. He was the reason that half of the closet was empty, that the drawers next to his own were no longer filled.
Finn knew all of this, and yet still, in the back of his mind, he knew that he had done the right thing. That didn't stop it from hurting, though, even if Finn knew he was the cause of his own hurt.
It had been two weeks since he had put Rachel on that train, and she hadn't spoken to him. Not that Finn blamed her, since even he had to admit that the plan he had concocted with Shelby probably hadn't been the best one.
Part of him felt guilty for doing what he did, for going behind Rachel's back and sending her to New York. The other part of him—the part of him that he tried his hardest to push down—was angry that she had hid the Broadway part from him for so long. Hadn't she trusted him? Had it really all been about not wanting to hurt him, not making him choose? All of it nagged at Finn, and it made his heart ache.
His school year was over now, though, and now he was finally getting ready to leave for First Down. In Pennsylvania, there would be no reminder of Rachel, no constant daily reminder of her presence in his life. He could take a break, gain some perspective, and then maybe, when the summer was over… he and Rachel could figure all of this out.
Finn rolled out of bed, refusing to look at the empty side where Rachel once slept. He grabbed a duffle bag, headed over to his drawers, and started throwing clothes into it. It was easier to focus on the present, instead of what might happen three months from now. Or about how he had essentially forced Rachel into choosing New York.
What would have happened if he had waited for her to make the choice on her own? Would she have waited in Lima, working at Anne's Café while he was off at First Down? Or would she have gone to Pennsylvania with him, staying in a hotel they definitely would not have been able to afford while he had been chasing after his own dreams? Or would she have decided to go to New York and take the part in Funny Girl, fully confident in the fact that Finn supported her and her dreams?
Finn knew that he would never have the answer to that question, given that he had basically chosen for her. He couldn't bear the thought of making Rachel choose between her dreams and his, but he also couldn't accept the fact that she would give up those very same dreams for him. There weren't very many seventeen year olds that got offered parts on shows like Funny Girl, even if they were off-Broadway. Rachel needed to take hold of the opportunity as much as she was able.
He wasn't even going to think about the fact that she hadn't told him on her own, either. She didn't give him a chance… and he didn't give her one, either.
Damn, this was such a fucking mess.
A knock at his front door distracted Finn from the fact that he was shoving basically every article of clothing he owned into his bags, as opposed to what he actually needed for the training camp. Shaking his head, Finn left his bags and headed towards the front door, wondering who was knocking at his door so early in the morning.
As soon as the door opened, Puck came bursting into the guest house, with no concern for etiquette. "I hope everyone is dressed!" he yelled towards the bedroom. "Because I really don't give a shit! Berry, where the hell are you at?" Without waiting for a response, Puck put his hands on his hips and spun towards Finn. "I know the two of you are married, and all, but don't you have to come up for air at some point? I haven't been able to get a hold of Berry in like three days. Where the hell have you been keeping her?"
So Rachel hadn't contacted her very best friend yet and told him exactly what he'd done to her. Finn wasn't sure if he was relieved or put off by that little tidbit of information. He gripped the door tightly with white knuckles, breathing deeply in an effort to get control of his emotions. He shut the door slowly and then turned around to face his brother, struggling to keep his face as impassive as possible.
"Rachel isn't here," Finn finally said.
Puck snorted. "What do you mean, Rachel isn't here? Is that just code for her being naked? I know she isn't as much of a morning person as she pretends to be, so she's probably just lounging in bed. As much as I don't want to talk about yours or Berry's sex life, I have to admit that it's good she's finally getting some."
Finn pressed his lips together and shook his head, ignoring his brother's laughter. "No, Puck. She's not… she's really not here. At all."
Puck stopped laughing abruptly and stared hard at Finn for a long moment. Finally, he brushed past Finn and into his and Rachel's bedroom. He was there for a grand total of thirty seconds, and then he came stalking back out into the living room. He planted his hands on his hips and stared hard at his brother for a long moment. The obvious misery on Finn's face clued Puck in to the fact that his suspicions were correct.
"Dude, where the hell is Berry's stuff? Why is her half of her closet empty? Why do you look like shit?" The questions were rapid-fire, and Puck had a sinking feeling in his stomach that made him anxious. Just kind of stupid shit had Finn and Rachel done now?
Finn didn't say anything. He just sank down on to the couch and put his head in his hands. The fact that he had put Rachel on the train himself just days ago had hit him before, sure. It was really sinking in now, however—Rachel hadn't even told Puck, her very best friend, just what had happened between the two of them. Finn supposed that it was some sort of punishment that she had left that explanation to him.
Well, Finn supposed that he deserved it, after all. He had seen Rachel's face when he had put her on that train. He had made her choose. He couldn't hide from this.
"Three days ago, I put Rachel on a train to New York," Finn began. He tried to continue, tried to explain what his thought process was, but he found that he was unable to make his voice work. He floundered for a few long moments, not sure how he could express just what he had done, or how horrible it had made him feel.
Now Puck pressed his lips into a thin line, and he studied Finn with oddly observant eyes. "Are you going to First Down?" Puck finally asked.
It wasn't the question that Finn had expected. And Puck asked it as if he already knew the answer to the question. The two brothers stared at one another for along moment before Finn's shoulders finally slumped and quietly admitted that he was going to the football camp.
Puck seemed totally relaxed as he nodded his head and accepted his brother's answer. Then, out of nowhere, Puck's fist flew and connected—hard—with Finn's jaw.
Finn went down, clutching the left side of his jaw as he absorbed the hit. He laid on the floor, blinking up at the ceiling as he took in the fact that his brother had hit him. It had been months since had gotten into a fight with Puck—though when it came to Rachel, Finn supposed that he should have expected nothing different. Puck might have been his blood brother, but Puck had appointed himself as Rachel's older brother figure long before. His loyalties lied with is best friend before anyone else.
"What the hell did you do, man?" Puck demanded.
Standing, Finn rubbed his jaw. "I made sure she could go after her dreams."
Puck shook his head sadly. "How are you so sure that her dreams haven't changed? That her dream wasn't you, now?"
Finn didn't have an answer for that. Especially because he knew that Rachel wasn't ever going to give up her dream of Broadway… more than that, he should never expect her to.
There were certain perks to being one of the star football players in a small town such a Lima, and Puck knew that those perks included nearly unlimited access to alcohol at any given time, no matter his age. So there he was at nearly ten o'clock in the morning on Saturday, wanting nothing besides a stiff drink in order to combat the information he had just learned from his brother. Even though he knew he'd be able to get his hands on a six pack if he wanted to, he didn't. He sat on a bench outside the corner store instead, with his head in his hands.
After watching his best friend and his arch nemesis-turned-brother date and fall in love, he had allowed himself to believe in true love. It had been difficult for Puck to accept at first—after all, the examples he had to choose from didn't offer much reassurance, after all.
His own mother hadn't found love with Chris Hudson, and neither had Carole. He himself had feelings for both Santana and Quinn—and while Puck was sure that he was in love with Quinn, he wasn't quite ready to admit to anyone else, let alone himself. Puck had seen love with Rachel's fathers, but he had grown up knowing that they had always loved one another. He hadn't seen it develop, hadn't seen it grow from mutual liking and respect to real and actual love. That hadn't happened until Rachel and Finn.
The only example he had of true love was Finn and Rachel, and now even that had been shaken. He knew that at seventeen and eighteen, they still had a lot to figure out. Still, there were some things that you just knew. It didn't matter the age, or the level of experience. Feelings were feelings, and fate was fate whether you believed in it or not.
Fate had struck Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry long ago. Finn being in Pennsylvania and Rachel being in New York City, with Ohio between them, was just an obstacle—an obstacle that they could overcome, with love and patience.
Puck truly believed that, even if he was too angry to admit as much to Finn. Yeah, Finn was his brother, but Rachel had been his best friend for long before that. His loyalties would always lie with Rachel, no matter what. From what he understood, Rachel hadn't had much say in the matter.
As an artist, a performer—and as a person in general—Rachel had always felt much more than the average person. He could only imagine that what Finn had done had devastated her, but she hadn't been willing to admit to such a slight, which was why he hadn't heard from her.
Before she had been in love, married… before Finn… she would have told Puck what she had been feeling. She would have told him everything.
But that was before. Before football had become so important to him. Before Quinn, and Santana. Before he had truly become brothers with Finn.
So later on that Saturday, Puck stalked into his mother's café with heartbroken eyes, and a small sliver of hope. "Finn said he put Rachel on a train to New York City. Is it true?"
Anne nodded her head, slowly, sadly. "It is," she confirmed. As sad as she was, she wasn't surprised that her son's best friend hadn't told him where he was headed. This whole situation was messed up, frankly. "She called me two days ago and apologized for leaving me without someone to fill her shifts. Apparently her birth mother was willing to pay compensation for the time that Rachel would be missing."
Puck's brow furrowed as he processed that bit of information. "Her birth mother… you mean Shelby?" At Anne's nod, Puck snorted. "Shelby is involved with this scheme? Well, everything make so much more sense, then."
Anne sighed. "Puck…" Her voice only held the slightest bit of warning, because she couldn't exactly blame her son for the way he was feeling. He had been young when he met Rachel and had invited her into the fold of their small family. While Rachel had just about everything she needed with her two fathers, Anne couldn't help but look at her as a sort of surrogate daughter. She knew that Hiram and Leroy had no problem with it, and she knew that Rachel had appreciated the gesture just as much.
"Shelby is her mother," Anne continued.
"In blood, maybe," Puck conceded. "But we both know that you've been more of a mother to her than Shelby ever has."
"Puck," Anne began again, before she stopped. She knew more of the story than Puck did, apparently. The phone call from Rachel had revealed quite the insight into the young woman's mind. She was lost, she was confused, and she was heartbroken—and simultaneously excited that she got to pursue her dream.
It was thrilling and devastating all at once. Rachel had no idea how to deal with it, and had told Anne as much during her phone call.
The young woman was sobbing as she spoke to the woman she had considered to be a mother figure since was five years old. "I don't know what to do, Anne," she gasped between sobs. "I love Finn, but I can't… this is New York City, it's Broadway, and I can't… but… I just…"
Anne was very well near tears herself as she sighed and gripped her cell phone tightly with her fingers. The heartbreak that Rachel Berry-Hudson was dealing with was too much for any person to deal with, let alone a seventeen year old girl. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know. You don't have to explain."
Anne had faced a similar decision when she was seventeen years old. What was her dream: to go to college and make something of herself with her degree, or was it to become a mother? She had choices, big choices, to make. And she had made them. She couldn't bring herself to abort Puck, nor could she bring herself to give him up for adoption. Besides, college would always be there. It wasn't like she couldn't have both.
So she worked. An elderly couple had owned the café she had claimed as her own before she bought it, and she had started working there as a pregnant seventeen year old. They hadn't cared that she was unwed, or seventeen—they had let her work, had given her time off once she had given birth to her son, and had allowed her to keep her son in a playpen in the back when she had returned to work. Anne had been so grateful that she had named her son after the husband; Cecelia and Noah Williamson had given her so much, and she would never be able to thank them properly for it.
Cecelia and Noah, once they had decided to retire, had sold the café to Anne at a severely discounted rate. They remained financial backers of the café, even as they retired and traveled the world. They were Puck's godparents', and they loved him nearly as much as any grandparents would love Anne's son.
"I love Finn," Rachel gasped. "I love him." She paused as sobs seemed to overtake her, and Anne's heart broke. She could only be thankful that this time, a child wasn't involved in yet another Hudson saga. If Rachel had been pregnant, it would have created a much bigger problem.
"I love him so much," Rachel continued. "But Finn…" She cried for a few minutes, sobbing so hard that she could barely catch her breath. "He put me on the train," she finally gasped. "I didn't get to decide. He put me on the train."
Anne remembered the discussion she had with Puck when Finn had known what was going on before Rachel had even told him. "Oh, sweetie. You knew what would happen, didn't you? You knew what you would pick. And you know that Finn would never have let you decide otherwise."
Of course Rachel knew as much. It was probably why she had never fully admitted to Finn what was going on. And it was why she had regretted every second of keeping that secret.
"Rachel might not have known what Finn was planning," Anne finally said. "But she… she has accepted it. She got on the train. She stayed on that train. And she stayed in the city, even after everything Finn put her through. It's only been a week, but… she hasn't come back yet, has she? And we both know that she's not going to go to Pennsylvania, either."
Puck honestly wasn't surprised that his mother knew so much about Rachel's sudden disappearance. Truly, it was the one thing that made the most sense since Puck had discovered that Rachel had gone to New York.
"Finn loves her," Puck stated decisively.
Of that, Anne had no doubt. Finn Hudson was a much better man than his father could ever hope to be, and that fact had only increased when Finn had impulsively decided to marry Rachel Berry. The young man was much more aware of his decisions and how they affected other people—at least he was until it came to his wife and her dreams, it seemed.
There was something so very noble about the fact that Finn wanted nothing more than for Rachel to achieve her goals. This off-Broadway part with Jesse St. James would ensure that success. The fact that Finn thought he needed to let her go in order to achieve those dreams was absolutely heartbreaking, however.
"And she loves him," Anne assured her son.
"Okay." Puck looked adorably confused, and it was like he was five years old all over again. "Then why did she leave?"
"Dreams and love… it's all very difficult, Noah." Anne shrugged her shoulders. "Sometimes you can see through it. Sometimes you can't. It seems like Finn couldn't."
Puck shook his head and let out a curse that Anne would have smacked the back of his head for, had it been any other occasion. "How could Finn not see through it? Rachel loved him. She gave him so much… she gave him everything. Everything, Mom."
"Maybe she did," Anne conceded. "But Finn still put her on that train without telling her, didn't he? And she didn't own up to what was happening. Neither did you."
Puck's eyes narrowed. "Mom…"
"Noah." Anne leveled her son with a narrow-eyed look that she had perfected years ago. "You didn't tell Rachel that you were going to First Down too, did you? And I'm willing to bet that you didn't tell Finn, either."
Puck huffed out an annoyed breath and spun around on his stool at the bar so that he was no longer facing his mother. He hadn't told anyone—besides Anne—about the fact that Beiste had put him up for a position at the camp in Pennsylvania, either. It wasn't very often that two students (let alone brothers) were accepted at the elite football camp. So Puck had kept his nomination and his subsequent acceptance a secret, given everything that his best friend and his brother had been going through.
"You deserve this just as much as Finn," Anne told Puck. "Finn is an amazing quarterback, it's true. But you're also an amazing player, and you can learn just as much as Finn can from this football camp."
Puck bit his lip. He had accepted his position at First Down as soon as he had heard about it from Beiste. With this new development, however, he knew that he had to plead for at least a week of time off due to an emergency family situation, and he had to hope that First Down allowed him that time.
Puck muttered an affirmation, just to appease Anne. In the back of his mind, he was secretly plotting the time off he needed to get to New York City. Finally, he smiled slowly, knowing that he would get the time off from his mother anyway. "Hey, Mom. Do you think I could borrow a hundred bucks for a train ticket?"
When Rachel opened the door to her new loft in New York City, she honestly wasn't surprised to find Puck on the other end.
She had called Anne, after all. The woman had been bound to share Rachel's location with her son, given the fact that they were basically family. After all these years, Rachel had been unable to hide from Anne, nor Puck. No matter what, they would be able to be tell just how she was feeling.
Rachel had once thought that Finn was among those people. Since he had put her on a train to New York City however… well, she had her doubts.
"I don't want to hear it, Puck," Rachel said by way of greeting.
Puck snorted, in that way that he always did when he thought that someone was assuming something. "How dare you assume I'm here to bring you back to Lima?" Puck demanded. "I'm not. I'm here to see you in Funny Girl, actually."
Rachel arched an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest. Shelby was being amazing now that Rachel was doing what she wanted—she was paying for the loft that Rachel was staying in. Her fathers were giving her money for all her furniture and her utilities. Rachel had to admit that it was quite a nice arrangement, and she was incredibly lucky to be receiving such an opportunity.
"Shouldn't you be getting ready to go to First Down?" Rachel sniped with an attitude. It had been over a week since she had arrived in New York City, and she had convinced herself that for the foreseeable future, no one besides her fathers would see her in the city.
Puck shrugged his shoulders. He supposed in that conversation that Rachel had with Anne, his mother had told her about the invitation he had received to First Down, as well. He wasn't surprised. "I convinced them that I needed a week off because my baby sister was going through something." At that, a gleam appeared in Puck's eyes. "I wasn't that far off, was I?"
Rachel finally allowed Puck to step all the way into her apartment. Puck let out a low whistle. "Shit, Berry. These are some nice digs."
Now it was Rachel's turn to shrug her shoulders, and she twisted her wedding band around her left ring finger. "I'm not paying for them," she admitted softly, unable to hide anything from her best friend. "My fathers are footing most of the bill. So is Shelby. You know, anything to get me a part on a show. Even if it's off-Broadway."
"Hey." Puck had been afraid before, it was true; he hadn't been sure that the Rachel he would find in New York City would be the same as the Rachel that had left Lima, Ohio. Looking into Rachel's eyes, he could see that his fears were unfounded. So being in a show—even an off-Broadway one—would change anyone. Still, Rachel Berry-Hudson was still the same girl Puck had met at five years old.
Rachel Berry wanted that fairytale—but she didn't want some basic prince. She wanted a knight that would fight for her honor. She wanted someone that would give her everything without thinking twice; what was more, she had found that person in Finn Hudson. Finn challenged her, but gave her absolutely everything she needed without question all at the same time.
Puck knew true love when he saw it; and he had seen it with Rachel and Finn.
"Come on, Berry-Hudson." Puck said Rachel's full name, because he knew it would get to her. He watched as she winced and gripped at the edge of her kitchen counters. She sucked in a deep breath and then looked up at Puck with eyes she had perfected in the seventh-grade dramatic play.
To any other person, it looked like she was completely fine. To Puck, however… well, he knew things were very different.
"You're angry," Puck murmured. Rachel was busy pulling cartons of Chinese food out of plastic bags (Jesse and the rest of the cast was supposed to be coming over to run lines. She supposed that she would have to order more for Puck). She didn't bother to pause—over the past week she had spent in New York City, she had quickly learned what Jesse and his friends liked to order. Typically, it involved a lot of steamed veggies, along with lo mein.
"I am not," Rachel denied immediately. Puck knew that she was heartbroken. She knew that Puck knew that she was heartbroken. Still, they tried to pretend things were different… just for the sake of pretending.
"Bullshit," Puck declared. He didn't even try to pretend that he was in the city for any other reason.
"No," Rachel shot back.
"No?" Puck was watching her with an arched eyebrow and knowing eyes. It was a look that Rachel had seen many times before over the course of their friendship. Puck was one of the people in her life that knew her best. While that was normally comforting, right now, it just annoyed her more than anything else.
"Damn it Noah, stop looking at me like that." Crossing her arms over her chest, Rachel resolutely looked away. She wasn't in the mood to hear it, frankly.
Puck sighed and dragged his hands through his hair. With everything that had been going on, he had let grow out, and was no longer wearing the Mohawk. In the end, he didn't have time for his admittedly ridiculous haircut. "Come on, Berry. It's okay to be mad. This is… this is fucked up."
Another long beat of silence passed, and Puck was able to see that Rachel's normally expressive eyes had gone flat. "I don't want to be angry," she whispered. Her eyes were trained on the floor, and even though her expression was emotionless, her voice held the last bit of pain she would display. "I don't want to be anything right now, Noah."
Before Puck could respond, she was saved by a knock at her front door. Letting out a quick sigh of relief, Rachel brushed past her best friend and headed through the loft to answer it. Jesse was there, along with some other members of the cast. When Jesse caught sight of Puck—who had followed Rachel to the door and was now standing protectively behind her—he simply shook his head.
"I should have known that one of you would have showed up eventually," Jesse stated. "I gotta say, I'm not surprised that it's you, Puckerman." He gaze grew interested as he looked behind Rachel and Puck, further into the loft. "Did you bring anyone else with you?"
"Why do you care?" Puck demanded. "Finn isn't here, if that's what your worried about. Though I'll happily kick your ass for him."
Rachel rolled her eyes and nudged Puck's ribs with her elbow—hard. There was no need to threaten Jesse, since he was pretty much harmless. The guy just wanted to make his mark on Broadway, and he didn't care how he got there, as long as he did. And in the end, he wasn't a bad mentor. As a bonus, he didn't talk about Finn, or about how she had gotten to New York.
"I'm not talking about Finn," Jesse said with a snort. "I was actually wondering about Santana. She's hot."
The look on Puck's face at Jesse's comment made Rachel choke out a laugh. She nudged Puck aside, then, and gestured for the rest of the cast to walk in. Jesse was followed by some of the friends she had made over the past week and a half: Mercedes Jones, Sam Evans, Marley Rose, and Sebastian Smythe. Mercedes was a bit of a diva, Sam was a goody two shoes, Marley was almost too sweet, and Sebastian was kind of a jerk, but they had welcomed Rachel, and had accepted her easily. She was thankful for that, especially given the tumultuous place she was at in her life.
"Oh shit, you guys brought alcohol," Puck noted. "Thank god." He loved Rachel, and he had sat through many of her shows over the years. He hadn't really been sure how he was going to handle a whole night with theater-types, though.
Sam had a case of beer, Mercedes had a box of wine, and Jesse had a bottle of Fireball. Puck snatched the bottle away from Jesse and opened it, taking a long swig from it. Jesse shook his head as he headed into the kitchen in search of his food.
"Help yourself then, Puckerman," Jesse muttered under his breath. "But don't think you're getting your hands on my lo mein."
Two and a half hours later, they were all on their way to drunk. Rachel, as tiny as she was, was already there. Puck had only ever seen Rachel drunk twice before (once during the previous summer, when they had broken into Matt Rutherford's parents liquor cabinet during a River Park gathering, and again when Santana and Quinn had taken her out for her bachelorette party), and he had thought it was funny as hell, then. It still was now, even when Rachel insisted on belting out Broadways' greatest hits.
Even though the rest of Rachel's theater friends insisted on joining her, leaving Puck as the only one who wasn't singing, he didn't mind that much. Those Broadway types sure knew how to party, it seemed.
Plus, they were all singing in perfect harmony, so at least it sounded good. Puck was beginning to wonder if he could convince them to sing some classic rock. He settled for hooking his phone up to a Bluetooth speaker instead, setting his own soundtrack for their little impromptu party.
Puck lifted his beer bottle to his lips and grunted when he realized it was empty. He sighed and stood up, ambling into the kitchen to get another one. They would really have to start in on the handle of Fireball soon, given how quickly they made their way through the beer and the wine.
Jesse was in the kitchen, getting another beer for himself. Puck pulled one from the fridge and stood in the doorway, effectively blocking Jesse's way out—it was time to have a chat with the guy, and it was one that was probably long overdue.
"Listen, St. James," Puck began without any preamble. "I'm not going to have to worry about you going after Rachel, will I? Because it won't end well for you if you try anything."
Jesse snorted derisively and shook his head as he took a swig from his bottle. "No, Puckerman. You don't have to worry about me going after Rachel. It's not like that with us."
"You sure about that? You tried awfully hard to get her to come here, after all. You even got her birth mother involved. If you knew anything about Rachel, you would have known what a shit idea that was."
Jesse let out a sigh at that. Yeah, he had realized after Shelby had shown up in Lima what a bad idea it had been to contact her. The only thing Rachel and Shelby had in common was their drive to succeed.
"Look, I didn't mean to cause any problems by calling Shelby. And Rachel is talented. I needed her to get my own part. This'll put me on the map, Puckerman. Rachel needed to take the part too, or they wouldn't have picked me."
Staring hard at Jesse, Puck finally nodded his head. He believed him. Still, there was one thing that he needed to make clear. "Rachel loves Finn, you know. And he loves her. They're married, man. You can't do anything to fuck that up."
"I wasn't the one who put her on that train, was I?" Jesse shot back. "Finn made his choice. Rachel did, too, when she didn't tell him about my offer. Don't put this on me, man."
Puck glared at Jesse, but he did feel the slightest bit of guilt. It really wasn't all Jesse's fault, in the end. They had all played a part in this, even if they hadn't been quite ready to admit it.
"Berry is my best friend," Puck finally said. He didn't feel the need to apologize, and Jesse seemed to know that he was never going to get one. "She's hurting right now. I just need to make sure that she's okay while she's here. As okay as she can be, anyway."
"I can respect that," Jesse said. He held his beer out, and Puck clinked his bottle against Jesse's.
"Hey." Santana sat down across from Quinn at their usual table at Anne's Café. She pushed a latte towards her, and Quinn nodded her head in thanks. "What a weird fucking weekend."
"Seriously," Quinn agreed. "Can you believe that everyone just… left?"
They were all gone. Finn had put Rachel on that train to New York City, and then he had gone to First Down. Puck had taken off after Rachel, but he was going to First Down, as well. That left Quinn and Santana in Lima. At least Kurt was there, too, but even he was going to visit Rachel soon.
"The shit was bound to hit the fan eventually," Santana said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I just didn't expect it to happen all at once. And I… I really didn't think Puck would go with them."
"Puck," Quinn muttered. "Right." She toyed with her coffee mug for a moment, staring down at the foam leaf on the top. Trying to buy herself another moment, she lifted the cup to her lips and took a long sip. Santana was staring at her though, seeming to know that Quinn had something to say. "Santana… I have something to tell you."
"I figured as much," Santana told her in an even voice. "You might as well just get it over with."
"I was hanging out with Puck," Quinn blurted. "Before he left, obviously. But we were doing things a lot. Watching movies, eating together. That sort of thing." Seeing that Santana's facial expression hadn't changed in the slightest, Quinn was quick to add, "Nothing physical happened, though. I just… you should know that."
Santana let out a quiet sigh and dragged her hands through her hair. Yeah, she and Puck had a casual, friends-with-benefits thing going on. But Santana had been dating other people, and, frankly, her heart wasn't in any of it. Not with any of the other guys she had been seeing, and not with Puck, either. While part of her wanted to be angry about the fact that Quinn had been sneaking around with Puck yet again, she couldn't really muster the feeling.
"You love him, don't you?" Santana asked quietly.
"I…" Quinn looked completely taken aback by that question, and she stared at her best friend with wide eyes. "I… uh… I don't…" She struggled to find the words and couldn't seem to grasp just what she wanted to say.
Santana gave her a wry smile. "I guess that answers my question then, doesn't it?" Quinn had probably loved Puck from the very beginning, back when they had started their odd little flirtation when Puck had first joined the football team. Santana had been fascinated with Puck, and while she loved him in her own way, she didn't love him the way that Quinn did.
Santana loved Puck. And she loved Quinn. She wanted them both to be happy. If that meant them being happy with each other, then Santana was more than willing to step aside.
Reaching across the table, Quinn grasped both of Santana's hands in her own. "I swear, I never meant for this to happen, S. I just… I don't know… He's so…"
Santana squeezed Quinn's hands. "I guess I always sort of knew that the two of you would end up back together. It's probably why I wasn't willing to be exclusive with him again. The sex was good, though, so…" She trailed off at the look on Quinn's face. "But you probably don't want to hear about that," she finished with a wince.
Thankfully, Quinn didn't let go of Santana's hands. Her comment had been uncomfortable, but it hadn't angered her that much. "Whatever happened between Puck and me, you have to know that we didn't have sex," Quinn said lowly. "We still haven't."
Santana shook her head. "We don't have to talk about it, Q. And now… well, we have all summer now, don't we? Puck isn't here. It'll be the summer of Q and S, just like it always has been."
Quinn let out a slow sigh of relief. Yeah, they weren't best friends the way they used to be… they were better, now. Things has changed when Rachel and Puck had come into their lives, and they were all better people for it. Now they had the summer to figure things out, to become better people. Then they would start their senior year fresh, and would look forward to all the things the future had to bring them.
"Yeah," Quinn agreed. "Just like it has been."
Rachel's friends from the show had either taken a Lyft home, or had passed out in her living room. Puck was fast asleep and snoring on the floor of her bedroom. Rachel though, was wide awake and still feeling a pretty pleasant buzz as she sat out on the fire escape.
Her phone was clutched tightly in her hand, and she had been torturing herself by looking at pictures of her and Finn during their wedding, and at the party that Santana had thrown for them. They looked so happy, so in love… and even though they had gotten married as teenagers and were still in high school, things had been infinitely easier all those months ago.
The urge to hear his voice was almost suffocating. It was too much, battered at her aching heart and made her want to cry at the unfairness of it all. She had shed her tears, though, those first few nights she had been in New York. She was done crying, and it was time to accomplish what she had set out to do. Finn might have been the one to put her on the train, but Rachel knew that she would have chosen the part in the end.
She would have told Finn to go to First Down, and she would have spent the summer in New York. They would have spent their free weekends with one another, and they would have figured all of this out… together. She should have told him about the part in Funny Girl from the very beginning, because Rachel knew that if she had, she would have been having that amazing summer. A long distance relationship might have been difficult, but Rachel knew in her heart that they could have handled it. She and Finn would have figured it out, if only they had given one another a chance.
She couldn't hold back, anymore. Fueled by the confidence given to her by the alcohol still in her system and her never-ending heartbreak, Rachel unlocked her phone and selected Finn's number. It barely rang once before he answered—this was the first time she had chosen to reach out to him, after all.
"Rachel," Finn breathed. "Oh, baby. I miss—"
"Don't, Finn," Rachel interrupted in a choked voice. "Please, just… just don't." She knew that Finn missed her, just as much as she missed him. She didn't need to hear him say it, though. Not after he had put her on that train.
"Okay," Finn murmured, his voice soothing. "Okay. I'm sorry, I just—"
"I don't want to hear that you're sorry, either," Rachel added. "I just… God, Finn. You hurt me. You hurt me so much."
"I know." His response was immediate and heartfelt, his pain apparent immediately.
Rachel bit her lip and sucked in a hard, long breath through her nose in an effort to keep her tears at bay. They spilled over anyway. "You broke my heart," she admitted. Her voice was filled with tear and her own pain, but it was steady and clear.
"I know."
Rachel could hear Finn's own tears in his voice. They were separated by hundreds of miles, but Rachel knew exactly what Finn was feeling. She could read him, just as he could read her. No matter what happened, Rachel knew that that fact would never change.
"I love you, Finn," Rachel said then. "God, I love you so much. And I hope… I hope that you're okay. I hope you find what you're looking for at First Down. And I hope that when all of this is over… I hope that we can find each other again."
"Me too, baby," Finn whispered. Again, there was no hesitation in his response. Finn had very obviously broken both of their hearts by putting her on that train, but he still wanted her, just as much as she wanted him. In the end, they would always love each other, no matter where their paths took them. It was up to them to make the choice to stay together, and both Finn and Rachel knew in their hearts that they would make the same choice.
"I love you, Rachel Berry-Hudson," Finn told her.
Rachel let out a gasping sob. "I know," she whispered. And then she hung up.
I have a bit of free time right now, given everything that's going on. I still don't know how long this story will be, but I have every intention of finishing it. Let's just promise to be nice to one another, to be supportive and kind in this stressful time.
Writing is helping me through all of this, and I hope that you all are finding something to help you, as well. Thank you for reading, and please, stay safe!