A/N - sorry in advance, but you were forewarned... ;) Tissues at the ready? Good, let's proceed.

ACT II

Two years passed. His band was on their first co-headlining US tour with Fallout Boy and she'd landed her first leading Broadway role. Maura in Rent was always on her bucket list, and she nailed it night after night, seven shows per week. After a few months, she gave up an occasional Sunday performance to her understudy so she could fly to wherever Finn was performing that weekend. They made love on his tour bus and in his hotel room and drunk-fucked a couple of times in nightclub bathrooms.

. . . . .

"I want us to start a family, baby. You think you'll be ready soon?"

"I do too, Finn, someday... but you know, I've just landed my first big role. There's a chance for my first Tony if all goes well, and if it happens, I'm positive there's going to be more shows lined up waiting for me. I... babe, you know I want this too, so much, with you... but this isn't the right time. I'm just getting started."

"I know... I know... fuck. I just wish I didn't have to be on the road so much."

"Finn, baby, I miss you when you're gone, more than you know, but we knew this was gonna be hard. And you're living your dream too. I won't take that away from you. I want this for you, and I know you want it too. I'm so proud of you. We'll find the right time, soon."

"Promise?"

"Yeah.. just, right now isn't it. We have plenty of time. We're not even 25 yet."

"Okay. 'Cause, y'know, I can't wait to meet them."

"Meet who?"

"Our little us's. Little girls with your hair and your killer voice and my eyes."

"Our little boys who turn out to be not so little and play drums with wooden spoons on pots and pans and the Tupperware from the cupboard."

He kisses the top of her head and squeezes her tighter as she wraps her leg around his hip in the tangled sheets. "Yeah. I wanna meet them so bad, Rach."

"Me too. And we will, Finn... someday. I love you," she vows and seals with a soft kiss pressed to his lips.

"I love you too baby. Always."

. . . . .

Another couple of years pass. The band's success has only grown, but so has Rachel's. Finn was on the road touring a lot but he was always sure to be at her red carpet affairs – three Tony noms (including two wins), several charity balls including the Met Gala. She attended the Virgin Unite charity function with him and they both support GLAAD and have made many appearances together.

The paparazzi love the darling hot young power couple. The Broadway Baby and her hot Rock Star drummer hubby. These event appearances and charity functions are almost the only 'date nights' they can have any more without being mauled by adoring fans everywhere they go. Finn was always pretty indifferent to the idea of fame or celebrity for himself, but he knew Rachel thrived on it. It was almost an unspoken but well-known side-effect of her lifelong struggles with rejection and feelings of insecurity and inadequacy. He never begrudged her need for the spotlight – after all, her star shined the brightest and she worked the hardest to earn it; she deserved it and he was happy to see her happily basking in it. She told him once that she needed applause to live and he kinda thinks she wasn't joking about that – not then, and not now.

With their constantly conflicting schedules always fully loaded and seemingly opposite of one another, they still did their best to make time to reconnect whenever they could. They managed to steal away a weekend in Cabo here and there and she (not so jokingly) suggested Fiji for their next escape.

Finn's band had been dominating the US Alt Rock charts and had been nominated for three Grammy Awards so far. They'd won best new group or duo their first time out and Rachel couldn't have been more proud. Dangerous had released two full-length albums plus their debut EP so far (which had just been certified double platinum last month) and had two full US and Canada tours so far. There was talk of an international world tour for the third album, but Finn didn't really want to be away from Rachel that long. He was kind of hoping if he did have to go overseas that she could go with him.

Rachel's career had skyrocketed after that first off-off-Broadway show. It had led to Spring Awakening and Les Mis, which then led her to the pinnacle of her career so far – and she brought the house down with her Elphaba.

London's been calling, wanting her to come to West End already with promises of an originating role, but she's declined so far. She was still lapping up the limelight of The Great White Way and felt like she hadn't peaked there yet. There'd been talk of a Funny Girl revival just for HER and it looked like it's getting the green light according to the last round of meetings with investors.

Needless to say, financially they've both done incredibly well and have since upgraded from their small shoebox Bushwick loft to a sleek tri-level Manhattan penthouse. Finn remembers the coziness of their little loft and how right Rachel had been when she'd said how romantic it would be... In retrospect it was cramped and the hot water ran out halfway through a shower and there wasn't nearly enough storage or closet space for anything and it was a sixth-floor walk-up without even a service elevator, but it was their first home together as husband and wife and he grew to love it there.

As much as both their professional careers had taken off, it had also taken a bit of a toll on their private lives. Finn's on the road more than he's at home, and the few months he's been back in the city, she's been secluded away from him, practically living in the theatre. They're not getting enough THEM time and they both know it, but she keeps reminding him this is all temporary. The small sacrifices to be made now before they finally find their time to just settle down and be them again.

He's been getting impatient though. As much as he loves recording music and performing, he's kind of already over touring, and he loves Rachel more. And he misses her. And more than ANYTHING, he had always hoped they'd start their family by the time they turned thirty if not before then, but she just still didn't seem to be on the same page as him yet. They're already turning twenty-eight and the uncomfortable rift between them over this topic was beginning to grow. They fight more and more often about WHEN the time would ever be right – and considering how little private time they have alone together in the first place, the fights were really beginning to erode the fringes of their marriage.

. . . . .

When Funny Girl was finally greenlit, he ended up agreeing to the European tour, knowing his wife's time was going to be so fully occupied with the new production that he might as well be filling his days with something useful. It meant nine months away from home overseas, but he needed the distraction right now, because the more time they spent together not being on the same page about starting a family, the more disappointed and resentful he was becoming.

He loves Rachel more than anything, and he wants her to have her time to shine too, just like they always dreamed from the time they first started dating back in sophomore year, but he never thought it would take this long to get to that actual LIVING part for them as a family – with a family. He remembers when she'd mentioned having babies at age 25 and back then he choked on the idea of waiting to have sex til then. (Okay part of him knew she was sort of joking about the sex part, but the kids? Well, it was seeming more and more like she was only joking about that too.)

. . . . .

Funny Girl finally closed after a very successful two-year run. They could have extended a third year, but Rachel had already gotten her Tony for Fanny and felt like it was time for something new. She felt like Fanny was the top of her Everest on Broadway, her moon landing, and wanted to think about other projects. Maybe London, maybe Hollywood. God knows she's got all the options she could possibly want at her fingertips now. The options were coming to HER in droves; she didn't need to beg for anything anymore.

The one option she hasn't had in half a year is her husband. He was there, front row and center for the opening of Funny Girl, of course. And he'd attended the Tony awards with her for her for her ultimate victory lap and huge FUCK YOU to every asshole who ever thought she wouldn't amount to anything. But that night afterward had been one of their worst fights ever.

She wanted to have celebratory sex in the limo and he wanted to have baby-making sex in their bed. They ended up having sex in both places of course, but she'd had her diaphragm in each time and they were up half the night arguing about it.

"Rachel you promised me after Fanny it'd finally be our time. You PROMISED. I only signed on for the Australia and New Zealand dates because you extended your contract another six months. I'm tired of being on the road living out of a fucking suitcase. I wanna live at HOME, with my WIFE. I wanna start living this family life you keep promising we'll have. And baby, I KNOW how awesome it is that you've got all these options and opportunities now, and I'm SO SO fucking proud of you... but you promised we'd start planning our family. When the fuck are you ever gonna choose us, choose ME over your goddamn career?"

"Oh, come on don't throw that at me, Finn! You guys, you won your Grammy, you got your rocket ship to the top too, and you've been riding the wave ever since! Modern Drummer covers and Rolling Stone covers and RIAA certifications galore. I swear Jimmy Iovine is one number higher than me on your damn speed dial, Finn. You LIVE in the fucking studio even when you ever are in here in the city! You love your career just as much as I love mine. Don't guilt me over that when it goes both ways. We both know how fickle fame is, and how quickly it could all be gone."

"Rachel, yeah, okay I love my career, but newsflash hun: it's just my JOB. I love YOU more. The fame part is just bullshit to me, and I'd give it all up willingly to be here with you and settle down again. You said we'd do that at some point. Were you fucking lying to me?"

"Of course not Finn! Of course I wasn't lying! I still want it, too, but I don't wanna have to split my time between motherhood and my career. I wanna be a full-time mom. And I'm just... I'm sorry, but I'm still not there yet. I know you want this so bad, Finn, and I do too, I swear to you I do, but dammit neither of us is ready to be there at the same time yet."

"Bullshit Rach. That's BULLSHIT! You're just scared."

"What? What am I scared of?"

"You're scared you won't be a good mom. You let your shit with Shelby fuck with your head and now I think you're afraid to tell me you're too scared to do it."

"No that's... that's a crock of shit, Finn. Shelby has nothing to with it."

"Is it? Then tell me why we can't start a family NOW. I just said I'm willing to give up everything and be here, for you, for us, for our kid. Even if you wanna keep working, I can be there for everything. So. Can you say the same? Are you willing to do that for me? You don't even have to quit working if you don't want to."

"I just said I don't want to be a part-time mother, Finn. I just... Finn, I love you but I'm not... I'm just not ready yet! Dammit, why are you pressuring me like this?"

"Because I THOUGHT we had a plan and wanted the same things, but you keep changing the damn timeline, Rachel! Let me know when I ever finally fit into that new timetable, okay? Maybe by then, I'll be back on this continent when it happens."

. . . . .

That was four months ago. She hasn't seen him in person since. He'd flown to Japan for a few dates in the South Pacific then to Berlin immediately after where the band started recording a live album from the tour at Hansa Studios and he hadn't been back to New York yet. They haven't even Skyped. They've barely had weekly calls and a few texts, but she knows there's a growing distance between them that isn't just geographical and she just doesn't know how to close the gap anymore. She wants to be on the same page as him, to be ready to start settling down and start their family, but she's just not.

She realized a month after he'd said it, there was some truth to his accusations. She was scared. Some part of her was sure she'd fail at being a mother. How could she not? She had the world's biggest Ice Queen Bitch of a mother's DNA in her system, the poster woman for negligent parenting, and she was sure it would infect her offspring. So even if by some miracle she wasn't a total fuck up as a mother, she was certain her kid would simply grow up to hate her anyway because of some twisted fate of genetics.

Okay, she knew that was all irrational. Their kids would be half Finn after all, and Finn alone would ensure they'd have a happy, well-balanced, loving home. She knows that. Still, there's a part of her psyche that fears the worst and a part of her ego that just isn't ready to quit conquering the world yet. She still wants London and Hollywood to bow down to her and kiss her ass the way Broadway has. She's paid her dues in this town, got herself a bunch of trophies on her mantle, got her caricature hanging on a wall at Sardi's already, and she's not even 28 yet. That's awesome. But if she's already pulled off this much before 28 years old, how much is left? The sky's the limit, right?

. . . . .

Naturally, there was a huge wrap party following the closing of Funny Girl. Normally, Finn would be with her for these things, and this one especially she'd really wanted him to be there for, but he said they were at a critical part of the mixing stage in the production of the new record and he couldn't get away. Fine.

So she attended alone. And she drank. A lot. Months without her husband had left her in a dark lonely place and more and more she feared for their future. And her melancholia didn't go unnoticed by Troy Lassiter.

Troy had been on a couple of different productions with her in the past and played a supporting role in this show as Fanny's good friend and original supporter, Eddie Ryan. And now this sweet and funny and yeah, admittedly handsome guy, with whom she'd worked so closely for years now and had become almost best friends, this guy was drinking hard liquor with her, and pulling her onto a dancefloor and bumping and grinding with her in time to the beat to make her feel better.

She felt so damn good that she let him pull her off to a dark corner of the private club and kiss her half senseless. She felt so uninhibited that when she stumbled into the hotel room with him, she let him get her naked. But somewhere between all the shots and the champagne and pink drinks and the lack of food and the absence of any form of communication from Finn, she finally recognized these were NOT her husband's hands or lips on her body. She sobered up just enough to try to tell him no, they needed to stop, and she thought she succeeded right before she blacked out.

Until she woke up the next morning with the foreign body of another man laying next to her, his foreign hand resting on her ass. Fuck. Fucking fuck fuck fuck. What did she do?!

Oh no no no... she couldn't have! But it appears with certainty she did. The tears flooded her eyes before full consciousness had even greeted her and she was immediately out of the bed, collecting her clothes and pulling them on, walking out of the hotel room with her blouse half-buttoned, carrying her shoes. The walk of fucking shame, the one red carpet she'd never traveled in her life and had hoped she never would.

How could she let this happen? She thought hard while she was waiting for her driver to get to whereverthehell she was – she didn't even know the name of the hotel until she asked a maid in the elevator on the way down to the lobby.

No. She told him NO. She's certain of it. She said she didn't want to go through with it. Okay, all the kissing at the nightclub shit, that was so bad. That was bad enough to ruin things with her and Finn, but this? How would he ever forgive her? She said NO and that asshole Troy kept going anyway! If she really let her mind go there, technically she supposed this was one of those date-rape kind of situations so many college girls find themselves in but really, Rachel knew that's not what this was. This was a mess of her own making. SHE drank to excess. SHE let Troy kiss her. SHE followed him to this hotel, apparently. This was all a result of her own recklessness. And she doesn't even remember it. Not really, not all of it or even most of it. It's too fuzzy, like bits of a fading dream, but there's enough evidence between her legs to know exactly what happened.

The guilt and shame tornado was consuming her already and she didn't know what to do. She wondered for a minute if Finn had ever been in this kind of compromising position yet but she knew better. Finn didn't much care for partying to this kind of excess, he never had. The athlete in him didn't enjoy it, and in the last ten years he'd actually become quite the fitness buff. Exercise was something they enjoyed together – and not just their horizontal cardio workouts.

No. She never questioned his loyalty or commitment to her, and she knew he was responsible enough to avoid these kinds of situations if not for her than the publicity that would surely smear both their names across headlines worldwide. He was always extra cautious and extraordinarily private when it came to matters of the press. He'd never let himself be found in such a scandalous scenario, out of respect for BOTH of them and the sanctity of their marriage. She trusted him implicitly over the years and knew no groupies or really ANY other women would ever catch his attention. They'd always had that deeper connection with one another and even when he was gone for weeks or months at a time, they ALWAYS talked and Skyped every chance they had. They'd worked hard to keep their intimacy even with so many miles between them so often.

But something had changed between them in the last year or two and they'd both stopped trying so hard. The obvious elephant in the room was surely the issue, which was completely ironic; the thing that was driving them apart was the thing that was supposed to be the pinnacle of their togetherness. What a shitty Alanis Morissette song that would end up being... doncha think?

From all the past arguments, she could already feel him pulling away from her. All because of a baby that he wanted and, well, so does she, but...

But.

But now she's just ruined everything.

Oh god.

There were really only a very few things in the world that have ever shaken Rachel to her very core in her entire life. Shelby's rejection was at the top of that list, to be certain, and choking at her first NYADA audition was up there, too. But the rest of that list? It was Finn. Finn being told he was going to be saddled with Quinn Fabray's baby at age 16 and her feeling like her chances of ever being his died on the vine. Finn breaking up with her to go find his inner rockstar in the aftermath of babygate. Finn's face when she told him about her revenge kissing scheme with Noah Puckerman junior year high school. Finn's face again in a Christmas tree lot a few weeks after that.

Finn's pain was the thing that shook her to her core worse than anything else ever could, especially when SHE was the cause of it.

She knew unquestionably what the fallout of her treachery would be. She lived through it before what felt like a lifetime ago now – while they were still KIDS and it was only a KISS and they were only dating. And it was her own doing back then, too. He may have played a small role, but she owns the fact that what she did to him in retaliation truly was incredibly, deplorably, despicably worse than what he'd done to her. And she'd SWORN to never, ever do it again.

And now here she was.

This would be the end of them. The destruction of their temple.

It was a mistake.

A stupid, stupid, reckless, careless, drunken, one-time mistake.

She'd pay the ultimate price for this without question. No. No. He could never know. She decided she couldn't tell him. She couldn't lose him, couldn't HURT him like this.

She knows she wouldn't have ever survived NYADA or New York or Broadway without him. Yes, she was selfish, that's true, but it was more than just what he does for her driving this impulse to hide it; it's in the way she feels him. There is a deep, bonded connection with him, that, even when they are not together – as history has already proved, repeatedly – whereby they still feel one another. When you're that tethered to someone, you can't just be apart from them for good. He is the other half of her heart and soul and everything that makes her HER and no... NO. She cannot lose him.

She decided this was a massive wake-up call, too. She needed to plan whatever her next career move would be around him. He's right. She needs to be willing to put him and THEM first. Yes, she wants to keep working, but not if means losing Finn.

Before her driver even pulled up to their building, she was already booking the next flight out to Germany. When she arrived at his hotel the next morning, she made love to him for ten hours straight and promised him they would start working on a family by next year. She just needed to map out a plan, schedule time off and see what project options she might consider doing even while pregnant, but she would make it work and would make time for them.

He was elated, and she saw the hope in his eyes, but it only served to intensify the sickening feeling of guilt twisting her insides into a pretzel.

. . . . .

They flew back to NYC together a few days later and things were finally good again. He was hopeful and excited for what the future held for them. Truth be told, she was too. He was never going to give her an ultimatum over this subject, and he told her would support whatever career choices she made, as long as they included a path forward for them and a family together. And if god forbid there was some crazy medical reason why that couldn't happen, he told her they could adopt or maybe even try a sperm donor or surrogate, and she readily agreed. Anything at this point to make him happy, to keep him happy, to keep him...

. . . . .

His manager notified him a week later that their label wanted them to do a three-week promo tour for the new album release. Twelve shows in the US, smaller venues and high profile large capacity clubs. They planned to record a few of the shows for a possible live fan club release at a later date. He agreed as long as the final show was at The Bowery Ballroom in NYC. He wanted the tour to bring him directly back to where he started: Rachel. Home.

. . . . .

As her fame and celebrity had grown, she was no longer able to simply dash out and complete 'normal people' daily ritual tasks, like popping out to the corner store for necessities. She had a personal assistant to handle most of her clothing and groceries and household needs, but there were some things she simply refused to task anyone else with, and her and Finn's personal hygiene and beauty care products were at the top of that list. Fortunately in this age of age technology, she never needed to leave her house to accomplish these chores.

So she was doing some online shopping for their personal care products which she briefly thought included more spermicidal jelly, except no, she wouldn't be needing that now... and then she had a sudden terrible realization: that night with Troy, she hadn't used her diaphragm – obviously – but she couldn't remember if he used a condom either. And it's not like she was about to call him up and ask.

The worst of this epiphany was the realization that maybe this slight stomach bug she thought she was battling wasn't just a bug after all.

Amenorrhea was a common condition for Rachel. Being a very healthy, active actress and dancer, her fitness routine usually led to scanty and often missed periods altogether. That was nothing new (and honestly, kind of a perk), but it also meant it was one less warning sign to trigger any red flags.

She had wanted to go with Finn on the promo tour, at least for part of it, but she'd come down with a bit of a sour stomach. She initially chalked it up to bad takeout from the new vegan place they'd tried. She was vomiting a lot and extremely fatigued. Once the fatigue set in, she decided it was a physical manifestation of her guilt and Finn almost canceled their promo tour to stay home with her, but she'd assured him it was likely nothing serious, she'd see her doctor for a checkup and she'd join him when she felt better if she could. Otherwise, she promised to call him home if there was something to worry about. Which she was positive it wasn't.

Until exactly this moment.

She slipped into her 'disguise' of a baseball cap and dark sunglasses, a red curly-haired wig, some yoga pants and an old faded gray McKinley athletics shirt, along with Finn's (and her) favorite navy blue hoodie, and took the subway to New Jersey to the first mom-and-pop pharmacy she could find, where she purchased several pregnancy tests.

By the time she got back home to their penthouse, she already knew she was screwed. There was no way that test was going to be negative.

And it wasn't.

Not the first one or any of the five that followed.

She felt like the worst human being on the planet. Not only could she not tell Finn about her massive relationship-ending fuck-up of accidental infidelity, but now this.

THIS.

The one thing he wanted more than anything, maybe even more than her (or okay, at least as much as her). And it wasn't HIS to have.

Even if he could forgive her someday for her treachery, THIS was certain doom and the fatal blow to their still fragile rekindled relationship.

He wouldn't understand.

He couldn't understand.

He'd NEVER forgive this.

And she wouldn't blame him if he didn't, if he cast her off to the depths of hell forever for betraying him like this. That's where she belonged now, after all.

No.

There couldn't be another man's child growing inside her.

She couldn't do it.

She wouldn't do that to Finn.

If there was any hope in saving her marriage and her future and the future us's that Finn was so desperate to meet, she had to move forward, do what was required to keep the secret. Bury it. Do what needed to be done and never speak of it or think about it again. And pray to whatever gods or devils it took to keep it hidden from him at all costs, forever.

. . . . .

He called to check on her that night and she told him she was feeling a little better, but not quite up to traveling yet. She lied and said the doctor told her it was just a random stomach bug and over-exertion. Stress. International travel. He offered to come home now anyway and she insisted he finish the tour. It was only another couple of weeks and they could certainly handle that separation; god knows they've survived much longer even while they were in much worse places emotionally.

The following day she made the appointment at the clinic. They made her take a urine test as confirmation of her ill-fated circumstance and then wait 72 hours before she could come back for the actual procedure. It was hard enough deciding to do this at all. To know there was a life growing inside her, that could be a real baby in her arms in less than a year... But it wouldn't be Finn's.

And it wouldn't be right.

And it would end them.

She had to do this.

She cried around the clock for those next 72 hours. What's worse, she was REQUIRED to have a ride home from the clinic, and the only person she felt she could trust implicitly was George, her driver. He was, after all, sworn to secrecy in all her personal affairs and doubled as her personal security, so it was a no-brainer that his discretion was implicit.

She wrote in her 'secret' diary daily – the one Finn knows nothing about – just to have a place to vent, because for fucks sake, she couldn't ever breathe a word about any of this to another living soul. Not even George. She was sure he'd piece together WHY she was heading to a Planned Parenthood clinic on her own without Finn but knew he'd never speak a word or ask a question about it (aside from his legally bound NDA and confidentiality contract, George was just that kind of great guy; a steel trap).

But dammit, if ever there was a time she needed a mother or someone, ANYONE she could talk to, this was that time... yet, there was nobody she could ever confide in and trust the spoken words wouldn't somehow come back to haunt her. This would be the most shameful thing she ever did in her life and a burden she'd carry to her grave. So she relieved her guilt as much as possible, pouring it out in loopy cursive handwriting in a private journal and did her best to cope and accept that her suffering was a just punishment she'd simply have to endure until the pain one day (hopefully, eventually) dulled.

She thought about coming clean and telling Finn everything. What if there were complications with the procedure? What if she was spotted and publicly outed in the tabloids for being at that clinic? But after all the turmoil they'd been through the past few years, she just knew their marriage wouldn't recover, probably not ever. Yes, he loves her with more passion and conviction than maybe any man has ever loved any woman, but every man has his limits. And she knew this was a line too far crossed.

The night before the appointment, she filled her diary with all her sorrow and regret. With her uncertainty about not telling Finn the truth. The sickening sorrow that might just consume her from the inside out for the life she was about to extinguish and the pain she knew it would cause him if he ever found out what she'd done. She vowed after the Noah thing in high school she NEVER wanted to see that look on his face again, the fury and the storm in his beautiful broken eyes. She would never put him through that kind of pain again. No, this was just as necessary for the sake of protecting Finn's heart as much as her own. This wouldn't just destroy THEM it would destroy HIM.

She wrote about the loss of this tiny innocent life and all the possibilities he or she could have had in the world. Might this little life have been the one to cure cancer? To be the next Beethoven or Van Gogh? First woman president? She felt like she was destined to burn in hell no matter what she did now, but it was necessary. Finn's heart was too precious to her. FINN was too important.

Women do this every day, right?

She could do this.

She HAD to do this.

For herself. For Finn.

For them.

As she left the penthouse and climbed into the back of her black town car with the tinted windows, she still hated herself anyway. She would be a different Rachel Berry Hudson when she returned, one Finn would never know.

. . . . .

He'd worried himself sick to the point of screwing up two of the new songs at their last two shows. It wasn't like him to be so distracted, but given everything that had happened between him and Rachel in the last few years and the more recent reunion and her pledge to fight for them and start their family, he knew something had to be so wrong with her right now. She had to be much more ill than she was letting on.

She was hardly ever sick and there was usually nothing that would keep her away from him in a situation like this. She was done with her last show and had nothing lined up yet, so she had nothing but time on her hands, yet she was unwell enough to stay home. Maybe it's true, it was just stress and exhaustion and possibly some bad take-out contributing to her absence right now, but he had a twisting, nagging feeling in his gut telling him otherwise. He knows his girl way too well; something was wrong.

When he checked his calendar and realized their next stop was in Pittsburgh, everything in the universe seemed to click into place. This weekend was the anniversary of their first kiss back in that auditorium. They usually spent the day naked in bed when their schedules permitted. Pittsburgh was a short flight to JFK and they didn't have another show scheduled for 3 days afterward. If she couldn't come to him, then he had to go to her. He'd surprise her, bring her favorite Gerber daisies and vegan ice cream, and spend the next couple of days nursing her back to health – physical or mental. Maybe they'd even be able to get started on that let's make a baby plan. And at this point, he was so distracted that his bandmates had insisted he go see his wife and get his head screwed back on straight. He'd catch up with them at their next venue in a few days, maybe even with Rachel by his side.

. . . . .

Needless to say, he was pretty shocked to walk into their penthouse to find it empty at 10 AM. He assumed maybe she was at the doctor's, but surely she would've told him she had an appointment at least, right?

He searched around the bulletin board she kept in the kitchen with their schedules and didn't find any answers there. But then he turned toward the breakfast nook and found it littered with crumpled used tissues, an unfamiliar leather-bound book, and a business card. And appointment card.

"Planned Parenthood of Trenton, NJ. What the fuck?"

He picked up the book and immediately recognized it to be a journal. The book opened itself to where the satin bookmark strap held the place of her last entry.

As much as he and Rachel never kept secrets from one another, they both respected their private diaries, but if the other ever really wanted to read it, he was sure they'd both allow it. Still, somehow he felt like reading this now was a huge invasion of her privacy and he was unsettled about the prospect, but clearly something was wrong, and even more clearly, she was keeping it from him. If she was much sicker than she'd let on, he needed to know. And why the HELL was there an appointment card for a Planned Parenthood clinic in fucking New Jersey sitting here in their fucking kitchen?

He wasn't always the smartest guy on earth, but looking at this situation objectively, it didn't take a rocket scientist to piece together what was going on.

But he had to be wrong.

Rachel wouldn't do this.

She couldn't even possibly BE pregnant, right? Christ, they'd only just reconnected in the past week, and he knew she was still using that goddamn diaphragm – hell, he'd helped her put the damn thing in himself.

Maybe it wasn't for her. Maybe it was for Marcy...? Rachel had been really close with her personal assistant he knew if Marcy was ever in any trouble, Rachel would jump through hoops to help the girl in any way she could.

That damned book was just looking up at him like a glowing beacon flashing a neon sign that said 'answers found here' and he just couldn't help himself. He started reading the entry dated that morning.

No.

Fuck.

No. fucking. way.

No.

He felt the room begin to tilt and whirl around him. The words on the page were beginning to blur through his water-lodged eyes and his heart felt like it might leap out of his chest and shoot straight out the nearest window, splattering down all over Park Avenue.

No.

He could deny it all he wanted, but it was right there, in her own handwriting. Finn can never know... Can't lose him... so sorry little baby... never meant for this to happen... hate myself for what I have to do... hate myself for lying to Finn...

No.

"Finn?"

Fuck.

He was so lost in shock he never even heard her come in.

He turned slowly with the open book trembling in his hand and tears streaming down his face. He took in the sight of her. It was pretty clear she was in pain and looked pretty miserably sickly. But what struck him the most was the bag clutched in her left hand bearing the clinic's emblem.

"How could you?"

The blood drained from her face and her knees threatened to buckle out from under her as she realized what was happening. As if she hadn't colossally fucked up her life enough yet, she'd been in such a state of disarray that she'd forgotten to put her journal away.

And now he'd read it.

No.

"Finn... I—"

"NO. Don't."

"But Finn please, let me–"

"You're okay? I mean, y-you don't need medical assistance right now?"

"I'm... no, I don't, but, Finn I can expl—"

"Stop."

That was the last word he spoke as he headed into their bedroom, grabbed a duffle bag and proceeded to scoop up extra clothes and a few personal items. One was a watch he retrieved from his jewelry box – the watch that had belonged to his father's father, and the other was the framed photo of him and his dad that dutifully sat on his nightstand by their bed.

She watched in silent horror from the doorway of their bedroom as he stuffed the items into the bag and then walked passed her toward the front door. Before he opened the door, he dropped something on the side table, then in an instant, walked out that door without ever looking back at her. She knew from the plinking sound in the bowl that it was his keys.

She walked numbly back into their bedroom, and her breath caught in her throat when her eye caught the one other thing he left behind. On his bedside table, the perfect gold circle he always vowed to never be without, that he'd have to lose a hand to not wear, the symbol of them and everything they represented.

She stood frozen, trembling, the excruciating pain that had been setting into her lower abdomen a forgotten afterthought now, overshadowed by the splintering agony in her chest as her heart shattered into a million pieces.

Her knees had finally had enough and the room spun then faded to black.

. . . . .

tbc...