Finn watched as Puck swept Rachel up into a hug and wondered how on earth he was going to deal with watching them together ever again. They were in Glee together, so avoiding seeing the two of them interact was impossible, and they'd been paired together for songs before only it hadn't hurt to watch then because he'd thought, at most, they were acquaintances. Maybe friends, on a good day.

Now he noticed every place Puck put his hands, every tilt of Rachel's head against his chest, every movement their lips made in relation to each other.

This was insane.

The whole Glee Club—minus Santana (thank God), Quinn and Sam—crowded into the hospital room. The ones who'd stopped by the night before looked awkward, arms crossed over chests and faces set in that expression of torn discomfort. Mr. Schu stood out in the hallway with Ms. Pillsbury, and Finn thought he looked kind of pissed. He kept jabbing his finger in the direction of the room, and had that lecture face he used frequently on the club.

It was like something from a whacked-out dream.

Mercedes and Brittany brought forward a large, colorful bouquet that they set on the bedside table.

"We got your back," Puck spoke up after he'd finally let Rachel go, "Anything you need, got it?"

"Yeah, you know you can count on us for anything," Mercedes added.

"We're so sorry you thought we didn't like you. We do. I mean, we're not here because we feel bad for you, we want to be there for you. Because we are your friends," Tina said. She let her grip on Mike's hand fall in order to wrap Rachel up in another hug.

Rachel was silent, and Finn couldn't be sure if it was because she'd forgiven them or not. Maybe she just wasn't paying that much attention. Her gaze was blank, looking past everyone and everything as if not understanding a word they said. He'd worry except she'd been more normal with him earlier and he couldn't expect her to be her old self right away. If ever.

That potential terrified him.

But he'd do his best. And he'd make sure the rest of the club started treating her right, because she'd had a point: he'd been a coward. It wasn't how a leader should act, letting his girlfriend get made fun of all the time and put down. They were co-captains, partners, now lovers—it was his job to protect her.

If protecting her from Puck happened to fit in with his duty, well, he wasn't going to complain.

He might not be the most emotionally connected guy in the world, but even he could sense the tension mounting in the room as everyone stood around in a lumpy circle, waiting for someone to say something or do something other than just stand there. More than anything, he wanted to know what Rachel was thinking, how she was dealing with all this. Unfortunately, he struggled to understand her at the best of times.

Finally, Rachel obviously couldn't stand it anymore. She bit her lip, then gave in and spoke, "Thanks."

One word was better than nothing, right?

Brittany smiled and answered for them all, "You're welcome."

Awkward silent fell again. Rachel shifted her feet in front of him, and he resisted the urge to put his hands in his pockets because he needed to not look intimidated or uncomfortable. Rachel was relying on him to be there for her and he was going to be the support, the leader, the steady guy she needed right now.

Maybe he should say something. Rachel needed to eat and his stomach was about to start eating him (they hadn't had lunch yet today and breakfast was so rushed he'd barely managed to finish his second bowl of cereal). They should probably get lunch. Except if everyone came, they'd be stuck in more of this awkward shifting of eyes and feet. Seriously, the club hadn't been this bad since the very beginning when Quinn had only joined to keep an eye on him and they were still missing all the guys but him and Artie. And he still had no idea what Mr. Schu was talking with Ms. Pillsbury about, but neither one of them looked happy.

In fact, they looked like they might cry, and he hoped they didn't because he's seriously had enough of tears to last him a lifetime. And somehow watching an adult cry was worse than watching someone his own age cry, because they were always supposed to be in control and composed and, you know, grown up. If even the adults couldn't deal, what did that say about his chances?

Ironically, it was Puck who saved him from having to decide what to do. The other boy stepped forward.

"Look, I gotta get back to Quinn," Puck looked awkward for once in his life, but he continued regardless, "She wanted me to tell you she's sorry. She's pretty upset with this whole thing too. I know it's probably not the most sensitive thing to say, but I just want to ask you not to blame her for this."

"I don't," Rachel answered.

"Good." Puck shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. "Cause I think the two of you could help each other out with this. You know, as friends or something."

Finn wanted to snort but didn't. It sounded logical, but didn't Puck realize who he was talking about? Quinn and Rachel? They'd never gotten along. Ever. He didn't think this was the time to try and bring the two together as friends. Thankfully Puck left quickly, because Finn wanted to bash his face in a few times for giving Rachel a hug, for talking to her like he knew what was best, for that fucking obnoxious smirk on his face as he met Finn's gaze and walked out.

The others followed, giving excuses or politely offering to stay (and being turned down just as politely). Finn felt like an observer watching a movie, not a participant in a real life scenario. The more the situation sunk in, the more unreal it seemed. They were Glee Club, a team, and Rachel was their bubbly, drama-addicted leader but all of this made any sort of normal almost impossible to reach.

When it was just him and Rachel (and Kurt), it was easy to think of things going back to normal. Life had changed, sure, but not irrevocably, and it would all go back to the way it was once school started back, right?

Wrong. Faced with the rest of the club and the real world intruding into what had been just a world of Finn-and-Rachel, he'd been slapped in the face with the knowledge that nothing, not one thing, would get through this unscathed. From here on out, nothing would ever be the same no matter how hard the tried and no matter how much he wished. He had no power over any of it; things were just changed without him even having a say so.

It was sobering. He'd always thought that if he just tried hard enough, he would have some measure of control. His life was his own, right? And no one could take away something he didn't want to let go of.

Except they could. And they had.

As he led Rachel down to the hospital cafeteria, he took her hand and tried not to imagine a future in which everything was different from the way he'd pictured it. Even if things didn't go back to the way they were before, even if Rachel never recovered from this, he told himself he would be there. He felt like the ground beneath him was warping and tilting and threatening to throw him off, and he wasn't sure he could guarantee something like that even to himself. But he was determined to be that man, be the one who could be relied on, and so he would be. It didn't matter how uncertain he was. He knew who he wanted to be and so that's who he would be, no matter what else life threw his way.

A few weeks ago, hell, a week ago, he'd have thought that the desire to be one way was enough to make him that way. Being a leader was more than just wanting to be one. He was gonna have to make an effort, stand up even when he really didn't want to, and be the one Rachel could turn to no matter what she needed. (Never again would Puck be the only one to speak in her defense.) He was gonna do it. Even if it sucked and it hurt and it was hard, he was gonna be that man. He wasn't exactly sure how, but he consciously made the choice on who he was going to be, and he would stick by it.

His stomach growled, and he really hoped the cafeteria had burgers. All this self-reflection tied his head in knots and made him hungry, but even he recognized it was necessary. He couldn't screw it up with Rachel again. Not now, not anymore.

Mr. Schu approached her once Finn had headed off in search of a bathroom. She wasn't sure if that was deliberate or not. There was the ever-present voice in her head reminding her that Mr. Schu had tried on numerous occasions to unfairly impede her career so clearly he had it out for her.

She didn't want to talk to him. He'd taken what had been an already horrible week and made it worse; he'd taken one more thing that should've been hers and given it to Santana, of all people, who did nothing to deserve it. He yelled about being sick of her attitude, but what about Santana's? Wasn't that attitude even worse? At least when she criticized people it was true. And constructive. She critiqued; Santana terrorized. And bitched and moaned and betrayed them only a year before. Who had been the gracious one to forgive the cheerleaders for their backstabbing? She did, of course. Because the team needed cohesion at Sectionals and she was willing to give the benefit of the doubt. Yeah, she was the least team player in the club. Mr. Schu really needed to start paying more attention to his students and less to his love life.

Not that she would be any better. Of course, she was smart enough to know never become a teacher. The teacher's job revolved around other people; she simply didn't want to do that.

And okay, yes, she was selfish and self-centered. She acknowledged that. At least she didn't try to hide it, or act like she really wasn't when, to be quite perfectly honest, she'd never met someone who wasn't selfish and self-centered.

"Can I help you with something, Mr. Schu?" she asked as he stood in the doorway, hands braced on his hips and eyes lined with red, somehow blank looking.

"Why did you ask Mrs. Howell to not tell me, not tell us, this? You know we'd have come right away, Rachel." She loved how he had this way of sounding so disappointed in her no matter what the words were, even when complimenting her. Why did he seem to think she could handle his honest criticisms and opinions when he was always careful not to hurt others' feelings?

She shrugged. "I wanted privacy. This is personal and I wanted people I trust and who love me to be here. I can't help it if the Glee Club doesn't fit with those criteria."

He tilted his head down at her in disapproval. "That's not fair, Rachel. I know things were a little rough for awhile, but they've settled down now. We're a family. Of course we all love—"

"Don't. Don't even. Okay? You and I both know how few people in Glee give a damn about me, and by few, I pretty much mean Finn. And even him, sometimes I wonder. So don't feed me lies just because you pity me," she glared at him as she enunciated each word. "I don't. Need. Pity."

His face paused between startled and concerned, and he stood that way silently for several moments. She thought maybe he was seeing for the first time that the family they'd formed in Glee Club was as superficial as any of its members. They were all so fucking superficial. So hollow and meaningless. They stuck together to win, but when things got rough, they were experts at bailing without looking back.

How could they be family when they could barely stand to be in the same room for rehearsal?

Maybe she was being too cynical. What would people think to know that Rachel Berry was being too cynical? It was like—well, she didn't feel like searching for the appropriate Broadway metaphor. Metaphors were all well and good but they wouldn't make her feel better now. And thinking about Broadway only reminded her of sitting in the audience of Phantom of the Opera and Rent with her dads, knowing that one day she'd be up there and having her dads buying her a souvenir from every show.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he finally answered, his entire body falling forward with the force of his sigh. "We are here for you if you need us. It isn't pity, Rachel. We care about you."

He was almost out the door when he paused, half turning back to face her. "We are a family. Sometimes families are the hardest people to get along with. They have the most power to hurt us. I think you'll find that if Glee Club hadn't become the family we are, you wouldn't be so hurt when they say nasty things to you. But the part that makes them worthwhile is that when things go bad, family is there for you no matter what. No matter how dysfunctional, a family rallies together at the worst of times and comes out stronger for it. And we'll be there, Rachel."

"Hey, Mr. Schu," Finn announced his presence on the other side of the doorway, glancing back and forth between his mentor and his girlfriend. Neither one looked happy, which was understandable, but he couldn't seem to figure out why they both suddenly got quiet at his appearance.

"Hey, Finn," the teacher gave a slight smile and patted the younger man's shoulder. "I was just letting Rachel know we're all here for her."

"Oh yeah, of course." Finn smiled over at his girlfriend. She smiled back with only half of her mouth.

The rest of the break passed in a blur of days in the hospital and nights in front of the TV with his family then cuddled up with Rachel in his bed. His mom hadn't been thrilled with the idea at first, but she'd let it fly as long as the door stayed open and (he'd been mortified when she handed them to him) he kept a box of condoms in his bedside drawer. Not that he and Rachel had been up to anything more than the occasional kiss. He wasn't sure if it was because she just wasn't in the mood (which he got, he did. He didn't have that problem, but he understood how she might not feel like fooling around) or if they were working out their issues before jumping back into the physical. And honestly, it didn't bother him very much because she'd actually smiled a few times at his lame jokes, and he'd gotten her to laugh when they'd watched Spaceballs for what had to be the hundredth time (it was one of the only movies he owned, while Rachel's vast collection was still holed up in her room back home where she'd refused to go).

That was progress. He liked progress. He just wished it didn't take so long.

Members of the Glee Club came and went during the days at the hospital, and Brittany had gotten into the habit of bringing over home-cooked meals every night that actually weren't too bad. She claimed recipes confused her and she made up her own, but whatever she was doing was pretty good. Finn wasn't sure he wanted to know what exactly was in the food, though. It tasted good and kept his mom from having to feed all of them every night, so he appreciated the effort.

Whether or not Rachel was softening to the others was beyond him. She'd been mostly quiet around everyone, so it was hard to judge. She'd refrained from any new out-and-out dismissals of them, which he took to be a good sign. She didn't cry anymore though, which worried him more than if she sobbed every day. Still, the only thing he could do was wait and see. And promise to be there when and if she needed him.

Life had almost fallen into a comfortable, if boring, routine. But the start of school would ruin all that, and put them all back into the real world with reputations and school work and high school drama. Not to mention, rumors, jocks, Santana, Coach Sylvester, Santana, football, Regionals, Santana, the Cheerios, Quinn (the two girls had yet to actually meet face to face since the accident—Puck had passed polite messages back and forth between them which he thought was good. Weird, but good), and what he hated most of all, time apart. She'd be in class away from him and if she needed him, he wouldn't know, and worse, wouldn't be able to get there if he did. Teachers tended not to like it when you dropped everything and left their class, even if it was for a good cause like comforting your girlfriend (or going to the bathroom, because man, cafeteria food could do weird things to your stomach).

And he had no clue what the school would do when they found out she was living with him. Could they even do anything? Probably. Seemed to him like somehow the school had a hand in everything. He did know that the paperwork for temporary emancipation was still being processed. Were there rules for where she should be in the meantime?

He didn't care. She wasn't going anywhere as long as he had any say in it.

Kurt had been sent back to Dalton the day before, and his mom had officially moved Rachel's things into his room. (Rachel said it was a hint, but he wasn't sure what the hint would be about.) The first morning back at school, he and Rachel had shown up together and walked through the halls to their lockers, hands held. People looked and pointed, and the Cheerios sneered, but overall, it was exactly as things had been before their break-up. He liked it. It felt normal.

Classes were exhausting, but normal. He curled around his desk in the back of the room and jerked himself awake every few minutes. Rachel poked him in the side with a pencil if he started snoring.

At lunch, he dragged Rachel to his usual table with the football guys that he actually liked. He'd done it before, so thought nothing of it aside from keeping her with him as much as possible. A handful of Cheerios were scattered between the jocks, Brittany, Santana, and Quinn among them. He still didn't think much of it until Santana opened her mouth.

"So man-hands, heard about what happened to your dads. So does this mean you'll finally be moving back to Israel?" the Cheerio blew a kiss at Finn to punctuate her comments.

"Santana!" Quinn snapped, her voice sharp and high. Her glare clearly called for silence.

"Oh come on, Mommy. Don't pretend you give a damn about her just because she's suddenly an orphan. It's not making her any less obnoxious. In fact, if she's going to be all crying, poor-little-me all the time, I'm seriously gonna have to strangle her. It's not like we need her voice anymore, anyway," Santana said, managing a sneer in both Quinn and Rachel's direction. She tossed her head back and forth, ponytail swinging, as she finished, "seeing as I'm the one who got us Sectionals."

"You didn't get us anything," Rachel spoke up, her jaw tense and eyebrows furrowed into deep lines. "We tied at Sectionals in the worst performance we've ever done. If I had been the lead, there would've been no question as to the winner. You have a good voice, Santana, but you don't have much power behind it and it's limited to a specific style. My voice doesn't need a microphone to project, and let's face it, is the most versatile out of all of us. You might have gotten us tied at Sectionals, but I'm going to win us Nationals.

"I might be obnoxious and slightly arrogant, but at least I'm not an insecure bitch filled with so much self-hatred that I have to make everyone else around me miserable in order to feel good about myself. And unlike you, I know that I'm worth more than just my body. I don't need a boob-job to be attractive, and I don't need to sleep with every guy who walks by just to prove to myself that I'm worth something. I'm going to look back on my life and be proud of who I am and what I've done. But you? When you look back what will you see?" Rachel paused, her voice raised with the force of her rant, and her eyes locked resolutely on Santana's. Finn felt her hand clench his in her grip, trembling slightly where they were clasped beneath the table. "Meaningless sex and hate, Santana. That's what you have. You have one friend—the one person in the world you don't seem to have it out for—and you've never even had a real boyfriend. No guy will have you and why should they? They get what they want from you for free. Sadly, the only thing they want is physical. I pity you. I'm the school loser that everyone supposedly hates, who just lost her parents and I pity you. I think that says it all right there."

With that, she did what Rachel did best, no matter what was going on in her life, and stormed out of the cafeteria. She took the time to toss her lunch in the garbage as she passed and even that didn't detract from her ability to stalk dramatically from a room and catch all the attention. Finn felt the grin on his face before he even registered the bubbling in his chest as pride.

That was his girl. She'd just thoroughly put down the biggest bully in school and looked really hot doing it. And she'd done it without being cruel. He might've come to terms with his girlfriend's imperfections—she could be mean, he remembered vividly—but she was never cruel.

Hesitant applause broke out from some of the other tables. Quinn joined in, and Puck followed, laughing his head off. The only reaction from Santana was a crossing of her arms, the haughty expression on her face never changing even as her eyes narrowed in the direction Rachel had gone.

His girlfriend was awesome.

She was sick and tired of Santana Lopez. She was sick and tired of the stupid hierarchy in this school, and she was sick and tired of being nice. Her dads had taught her to be the better person, to not stoop to other's levels and she'd always followed that advice. So what if sometimes she was abrasive, she was only trying to help. Her criticism of others was constructive, not malicious. She'd always made a conscious effort to avoid insulting others but this was too much.

The next time Santana said anything rude or cruel about her, she was filing a harassment suit. The next time someone threw a slushy in her face, she'd go straight to Principal Figgins and if he refused to do anything, she'd go directly to the school board with all the backing of the ACLU of Ohio. She was done being bullied.

Somehow, she'd always believed that the people who'd been awful to her would get what was coming to them. Karma or something like that, where good people were rewarded and bad people were punished. Now she knew better. Bad things happened to good people, and bad people just kept doing whatever they wanted with no consequences. Santana was one of the most popular girls in school despite being cruel to everyone, and guys all wanted to sleep with her no matter how badly she treated them. Karofsky was still at school while Kurt had been forced to transfer, and the jock had not lost anything, not even his spot on any of the sports teams. Her dads had been the best people she'd ever known, kind and open minded and willing to compromise, able to smile and be polite no matter how rude people were to them. And they'd been killed.

Her dad was still alive, but it was hard to think of him as such when he was just gone. All the time. Not talking to him, not seeing him around, not listening to his awful singing in the shower—they might as well both be dead. The longer the coma lasted, the less hope she had of ever having a parent again. She tried to cling to hope, tried to be optimistic. But it was hard. It was so hard and it was everyday a struggle.

She'd stalked out of the cafeteria and into the auditorium, seating herself on the edge of the stage and looking out over the empty seats. Empty seats. That had to be some kind of metaphor. An audience of empty seats. She was pretty sure the audience would always be empty without her dads there. No one else really mattered. It'd never really occurred to her before. After all, she adored the attention of the stage. It didn't matter who gave it, attention was like a drug. Admiration even more so. Being applauded at the center of attention had been her goal from the day of her birth, and yet now, now she couldn't imagine caring. Because her dads weren't there.

Was it selfish to want that feeling back? The one where she knew if she just stood under the spotlights and sang her heart out, everything would be better. She wanted to stand on the stage and look out over the enthralled audience and feel—exhilarated. At home. Needed. Loved.

She missed her dads so much. Two weeks and she still couldn't seem to accept that she was on her own. It helped that Finn was there, of course, but this feeling in her chest—it hurt so bad. Sometimes she feared it might kill her, this ache in her chest that threatened her ability to breathe. Would it ever go away? Get better? She couldn't imagine it. There was a big gaping hole inside of her and wounds like that never heal, do they? Not really.

She was so sick of being sad. How selfish. Only two weeks and already she thought she had the right to feel better?

But it wasn't about the right. It was about how much she could stand. And to go through life, day after day, so exhausted by the pain festering inside of her, it seemed impossible to continue. One day at a time worked great as a philosophy, but it was hard in practice. There were times when the world around her was so quiet no amount of distraction on her part could prevent her mind from seeing the endless stretch of days—sad, hurting, longing days that would never, ever be the way she wanted them to be. It made it hard to care about other people's comments, when there were such bigger problems than whether or not Santana Lopez had it out for her. A month ago, being so dressed-down and demeaned in full view of the entire school—and Finn—would've sent her away in tears.

Now, though, her tears were for a different reason. A better reason.

Tears welled in her eyes, occasionally spilling over her cheek or getting stuck in her lashes. Rachel Berry reduced to tears in the auditorium. Nothing new about that.

Except everything was new. Because she wasn't that Rachel Berry anymore.

Whew. Sorry about the wait on this one. It's been a hectic month. I also struggled to get through this chapter, as you might be able to tell. It doesn't seem to flow as well as the others, but for some reason, my Glee Muse was napping for most of the month.

This story is finishing up! One chapter left, maybe an epilogue depending on how I feel it needs to end. We'll see how the next bit of writing goes. I don't want to drag the story on longer because I know my track record with long stories is poor and I want to finish this. You guys have been so great with your reviews and comments, and I appreciate every one of them. So I don't want to have to leave you hanging. Therefore, I'm wrapping it up as neatly as I can. I honestly feel like the story I wanted to tell has found its way to a closing point, and I'm cool with that.

Bah, I'm rambling. Anyway, next chapter should be up soon. Before the new Glee episodes start back, hopefully.

Also, I know it seems like I'm bashing Santana, but I honestly feel like this is how her character would react. I have seen not a single instance of her being a kind, compassionate human being in the show. Not one. No matter what was going on. So I really don't see her suddenly changing. If you're a fan of the girl, sorry, but I genuinely feel like she's an awful character. I know I would hate her in real life, and I'm willing to bet most people would. She's fun to hate, but I'd appreciate a little character development on the show. Too much to ask for? Yeah, I thought so too.

It's also difficult because while Rachel is one of my favorite characters, I find myself disliking Lea Michele more and more. The more I hear about her as a person, the more I dislike. Conundrum, huh? And I don't like Mr. Schu but I want to like him because I liked him last season.

Ah, well. Thanks for reading, and remember to review, please! (Please? Even though I don't deserve it for taking so long?)