A/N: Yes, I know. I'm in the middle of three other stories and why am I writing another oneshot? But I can't help it. I'll have the next chapters of one or more of those stories up by friday.

Until then, enjoy this. And let me know if you do. Also, I've got to get to class so I didn't proofread very thoroughly; sorry if there are any typos, etc.

Disclaimer: All I own is the computer I'm writing this with.


"I love you." He says it, yeah, because it's true, but also because, this time around, he's got nothing to lose. Not like before.


She says she doesn't get it and why did he bring her here? But she waits because he asks her to; asks her to hear Sean out. So she does.

Finn knows this story, of course he knows it. So he only half-listens. Because the other half is listening to Rachel, her reactions, her breathing, and even just the sounds of her twisting her hair in her fingers. He sees her focus all her attention on the teller of the story, the way she does. He realizes it really is just the way she does things. She puts all her effort and attention into the task at hand, no matter what she's charged with. And he really admires that. He never thought about it before because, well, before he was someone he didn't like. Before. Before Rachel. Because that's kind of how his life is now. He sorts everything into before Rachel and Rachel columns. People say it should be before Rachel and after Rachel; it's more correct that way. But he doesn't want an after Rachel. Just because she's not really his, not in the way he wants at least, it doesn't mean he's going to let her go any time soon.

So he watches. He watches as her small hands fist in the hem on her skirt, trying to tame the raging emotions he knows are swirling around inside of her. That's another thing about before. He never paid much attention to all the feelings he had, or other people had. Not because he didn't care, he just didn't get the big deal. But then there's Rachel and she lives to feel. And music is feeling and she'd opened that up inside him. So now he's more in tuned to others, especially her. He likes to watch her. Not just because she's pretty (and she is) or wears short skirts (which she does), but because he can learn from her and about her. He didn't know that before either. He didn't know you could learn so much about a person just by watching, observing. But it's proved useful so far.

And he feels. He feels the way Rachel is crying at a plight that's not her own. It's one of the things he loves most about her; despite being bossy and abrasive, she's full of compassion, and she doesn't discriminate with it. Everyone could be on the receiving end of her compassion, even if they had no reason to deserve it. Like him. He'd had more than enough chances to prove himself to her, but he didn't. And she still didn't give up on him. And yeah, she'd totally given him the "we're just friends" spiel, but like always, he watched. And there'd been something in her eyes, a future? Well anyway, he'd noticed, so he's not giving up hope. And now seeing her looking at his friend with such utter empathy and understanding, he realizes another thing.

He's been thinking a lot lately and there are all these things he loves about Rachel. But they're not just pieces of her, not just little assembled parts, they are Rachel. So he sees her honest tears, and her faith in being optimistic and the epiphany hits him like a ton of bricks (or a ton of anvils). He loves her. He loves Rachel. All of her. Her beauty, her short skirts, her tears, her emotions, her compassion, her hopes and dreams. Her way of making him better at watching, listening, knowing. It's strange. It feels familiar, but foreign at the same time. He's sure it's because his subconscious has known this for a long time, but he's always been a little slower on the uptake. But he knows now. Because before he would have laughed, would have said high school is about the expeditions you can get and into whose pants (or skirts). But he's still in his Rachel period (and God, does he want to stay there) so he knows now. There are more important things. There are little brunette girls with animal sweaters and giant brown eyes and the voice of angel.

There's love. And he follows her out of Sean's house, itching to tell her. But he can't. So he doesn't. Before he would have blurted out whatever thought was in his head, without regard for any consequences. But then again, before, his thoughts weren't worth very much. Now they are. It's a shame, really, that now his thoughts finally mean something and he can't say them. Because he can't take the risk of messing up any small chance he might have to tell her in the future. So he drives her back to her house and smiles when she thanks him. He watches her go into the house, thinking of when he can tell her. Because he will some day; he's smarter now, he knows it's all about timing. But what's important is that he does know. Because before, he would have let her slip away. Not this time.


He watches as she's back at Jesse's side, talking about her hopes and dreams. He's feeling bitter, and more than a little discouraged. She'd been so broken when Bryan Ryan shot down her dreams, shot down all of their dreams. And Christ, he never even had a dream, before. So he thought he would tell her then, but she looked like the last thing she wanted was consolation. And now he can't tell her because Jesse is back, and like always, he steals the stage—literally and figuratively.

But he just can't give up. Because if he does, he'll revert back to the way he was before. And that's the last thing he wants. So, as has become his habit, he watches her. He sees the way she kind of melts into Jesse, but kind of distances herself at the same time. And for whatever reason, that kind of makes his heart skip a beat because he thinks maybe he's still got a chance. But she's so wrapped up in what her dreams are, and the way Jesse is pushing them on her, that she never notices that he's silently pleading with her. And Finn knows he's not psychic (not like Rachel says she is), but he really wants it to work because he really wants them to work.

He can hear her describing all these things she's hoping, wishing, waiting for, and he's hoping, wishing, waiting for her to say any of those things are him. But she doesn't. She can never tell that he's listening, like he listens to his heartbeat at night, longing to hear hers right next to his, in tandem. Or maybe she can tell, but doesn't acknowledge it. He doesn't expect her to, either way. It's just another reason he loves her and not just individual things about her. Her ability to affect him without even trying. Because she doesn't know, but he does. And he's going to tell her someday. It's the only promise he's made to himself that he knows he'll be able to keep.


He smiles when she says she's tired of people calling them freaks. He's reaching out to her, not sure if she gets it or not. But there's a little hint of a smile on her face, too, so maybe she does. But then maybe it's because he's wearing a shower curtain. And even though he's walking back with Kurt, and they're kind of making up, his mind is still focused on Rachel. He likes her new Lady Gaga outfit, even though he wishes more than anything it hadn't caused her so much pain to get it.

But she's determined to take this in stride, just like everything else, and it's just something else for him to add the list of little things that make up Rachel as a whole. He wants to tell her maybe people think she's a freak, but they're wrong. She's Rachel. And before, being described as a name, well he would have thought that was stupid. Obviously people are their names. But he doesn't live in before anymore, so that's not how he thinks. Because he can think of plenty of adjectives to describe Rachel (smart, pretty, enthusiastic, unique, strong-willed, stubborn, hardworking, talented, compassionate as well as passionate, giving, and on and on and on), but it's easier (and more accurate) just to say she's Rachel. Because she is Rachel and, ultimately, that's why he loves her.

And he's kind of chafing from his costume, but in a weird way it makes him think of love—specifically his love for Rachel. Because it's mildly uncomfortable but just part of nature and you get used to it. Like Rachel. Because it was painful to be in love with her—not just because she isn't all his—but he loves her so much it just makes his heart hurt sometimes, but not necessarily in a bad way. But it happens. People fall in love all the time—it's part of being human. And after a while, the ache in his chest just seems like it's supposed to be there, and since he's sure it is, he just keeps going.

But she's too far down the hallway now, so he's left with another chance he doesn't get to tell her, though now he's fretting what she'll say. What if she doesn't believe him? He thinks that might crush him. So once again, he keeps his love to himself.


Now he can't tell her because he's just too fucking pissed. He knew that St. James was no good. But she's crying and broken, so he's broken because he loves her so much it's like he can feel everything she can feel. And he's getting ready to pound that asshole's head to the ground, and he kind of wants to pound Mr. Schue's head to the ground when he tells them to sit down. Before it wouldn't have mattered. He and his stupid before friends would have laughed, and then thrown another egg at her. But there's a reason he doesn't live in before anymore. And that reason is sitting in this room, sadness and betrayal seeping out of her every pore and he can't take it.

But then he's listening to Mr. Schue talk and he guesses it makes sense, even though it barely quells his rage. When he does (almost) calm down, he just wants to go to Rachel and hold her and whisper into her hair that he loves her and just because she smells like eggs doesn't mean anything. It just means Jesse is a jerk and he told her that and she could have listened, but that would make him sound like a self-righteous douchebag. So he doesn't do that, because it would be like being who he was before and at that point he didn't love Rachel, so there isn't a point in it anyway, because it just hurts too much. For both of them.

But she just says she needs to go home and clear her head. And telling a girl you love her when she's already conflicted and heartbroken won't give her room to clear her mind; it'll just make things worse. And that's absolutely not what he wants. So he lets her go (for now), reminding himself that everything has to be just the way it is sometimes.

Like when she's up on stage, dancing and singing and they're all showing off their funky side for those Vocal Adrenaline dickheads, and he really only sees her. And he's having a good time gloating, but he's having an even better time seeing Rachel start to feel better, and that's what matters. She's what matters. People call him stupid, and yeah he doesn't know the square root of 246 or how many King Loiuses there were, but he knows stuff. He knows how when Rachel's eyes get like that, all big and shiny and proud, that's she really into the song. He knows because he watches her and listens when she sings, like now, with her voice floating all in the auditorium and he misses when she would sing directly to him. But he doesn't say anything after the performance because they're all still riding the high of showing those VA scum how the fuck it's done. And he can't take that away from her because what she needs now more than him is the feeling that she's better than them. And he knows she is, because he knows her, but he knows how it feels to be lost and broken, so he lets her have her glory. Because he's not like he was before, he puts her first now.


But then he's confronting her because as sad as she is, this is more important; their group, everything they've worked for. And he really, really doesn't want to piss her off because even he knows that's the worst way to show a girl you love her. So to say he's surprised at her reaction is an understatement, but he isn't complaining. No way. Because she's kissing him, and it's really soft, but it's real. And it's pure and sweet and he knows she means it, because he knows how to read her now, after all the watching and listening. So even though she's not technically saying anything, she's kind of saying everything. And now he knows he's got a shot and his heart soars and flies and all that other stuff. But he's not going to think about all this stuff right now because all he wants is to focus on kissing Rachel.

And he's sure his face is dopey (like that's unusual), but the smile that blossoms on her face has to be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen because that's real too. She's real and he's real and they can be real. And it's not like before when he'd shy away and take what's easier. Because he's in for the long haul now and he wouldn't have it any other way. So as she takes his hand and they're walking, he resolves to tell her soon. Because now he knows he can.


He feels so good after he says it. Like all the weights been lifted from his shoulders. And he knows people say sixteen is too young to know what love is, but they're wrong. Because he's sixteen and he knows. He's just sure. It's easy to know because he's not a decisive guy; he's not sure of a lot of things. And before he'd been even less sure. What do you want from life Finn? What do you want to be? Who do you want to be? Before, he would have given his signature confused face, but he knows the answers to those questions now. He wants Rachel Berry. He wants to be her everything. He wants to be someone who she'll love and appreciate. Respectively. Do you know what love is? Before, he would have said who cares? But he's not who he was before, so he cares. And yes, he does know what love is.

And she's smiling radiantly and he knows they can go out there and kick some ass. And even though she doesn't say anything, he doesn't need her to. Because he said something, and that's all he really wanted. And she didn't run away or cry or slap him. She just looked at him, smiling so wide he's sure it hurts her. And he thinks he can see some of the love he feels for her reflected in her eyes.

And that's a good enough start for now.


Sometimes my ideas don't go away, so I just get them all down.
Let me know what you thought of this one.
Reviews = love.

Take care.
Ciao,
x.