warning: spoilers for the finale!

The first time she sees him since the train station is the third of July. She remembers the date because she's wearing the first of her two flag-themed dresses, this one's red with a white belt and blue collar, the other is much prettier, but she likes to get into the spirit of every holiday when she can. Daddy asks her to stop by the grocery store to pick up a vegetable platter for the party at her grandpa's in Cleveland on her way home from an impromptu babysitting job at a family friend's house.

It isn't that she doesn't expect it, because she does. It is, of course, inevitable in a town as small as Lima (there is one grocery store) that she runs into her…Finn. She just doesn't expect it today. And she's glad it isn't a day when she's stopping by after the gym, or after dance, when she's slightly sweaty and wears no makeup.

He doesn't see her, but she sees him, he's choosing between yogurts in the dairy aisle, which she very rarely frequents and – yes, she's followed him here. She just wants to see how he is, and of course, he looks good. Tan, tall as always, leaner than the last time. It makes her heart hurt, seeing him, and she wonders if he can see her, too, or maybe even feel her the way she can always feel him.

And she's being really stealthy, making sure her steps are light, but when he turns and heads right towards her, she moves so quickly she nearly knocks over a table of bread, falls to the ground, and subsequently makes a big ruckus. A baby begins to wail, and for the first time in her life, she doesn't want the attention.

She gets it, of course, with Finn's slightly amused, "Rachel?" as he kneels and helps her to her feet, brushing her off once she's standing.

What is the protocol on this? This whole seeing your kind of ex fiancé at a grocery store in the summer after he enlists in the army and – what was it? – sets you free.

She decides on, "Hi, Finn." He's still got his arms on hers, and she doesn't want him to notice, wants his hands on her always.

Maybe he'll kiss her, she thinks (dreams) but instead he squeezes her shoulders and walks away, leaving her feeling somehow emptier than before. If she were a different girl, she would stay in this grocery store and cry, but she isn't that girl. She chases after him, grabs onto his sleeve and tugs him out, hoping he's got enough tact to leave whatever he's purchasing behind.

She isn't sure what she plans on doing once she's got him outside, and it's humid, already, early July and already oppressively humid and she hopes he's used to that heat when he heads down to Georgia, a dark part of her hopes he chokes from the moisture in her lungs.

Instead of speaking, she pins him against the façade of the grocery store and kisses him hard. Quinn told her she and Puck are back together, figuring it all out a step at a time, and she hates her for it. So she kisses Finn, feels his hands close around her waist, feels his lips soft and sweet and full beneath her own. He sighs into her mouth and pulls away, murmuring her name in this broken whisper and she probably shouldn't have kissed him, but she's still got his ring and she isn't giving it back to him.

"Sorry," she says, still in his grasp. He shakes his head.

"No, s'okay." He blinks, and she thinks maybe there are tears in his eyes and she has to ignore them, or she'll start crying again and that's reserved for when she's curled in her bed, playing her favorite, saddest records and ignoring her parents' pleads for her to listen.

"Okay."

He squints down at her, scrutinizes her, from her hair (she wonders if he notices the highlights she got with Tina and Santana last week) to her shoes, this little smile on his face. "I'm, um, leaving soon. The sixteenth."

"Oh!" Her lips just sort of push out the sound, that little gasp from her shaking lips, and he presses his mouth between her eyebrows, like he knows her mannerisms (he does). "That's, um, lovely, Finn."

"Yeah." He does that thing with his mouth where he purses his lips and pulls it into a sort of half smile and he squeezes her shoulder. "I just…wanted you to know."

And with that, he releases her and walks away, and this time she doesn't follow him because she's chasing him, or because she wants to tackle him to the ground and tell him how stupid he is, but because she still has to buy her daddies their veggies, and she's nothing if not a good daughter.

New York is different than Ohio in the fall. It's colder, with the wind cutting through the skyscrapers and her coat doesn't feel warm enough, sometimes, but she manages. Thrives, even. She isn't so popular when it comes to the girls in her classes, but Santana and Kurt just assure her they're jealous of her star quality when she bemoans yet another rolled eye at her dramatic monologue.

She'd opted out of the dorms when Santana and Kurt proposed a shared apartment ten blocks from NYADA, and she loves it, loves spending time with two of the people who were her biggest opponents in high school. It isn't about that, anymore, and they both don't say anything when Rachel comes home some days and shuts herself in her room because she's happy, she is, but she still misses Finn.

The first letter comes on a Wednesday. Silly of her to remember, but she only has one class on Wednesdays, miraculously, and the mail comes in the stretch of time between her class and her shift at work, and when she sees the letter she pauses and blinks, thinks she's dreaming about him, then opens her eyes. It's still there, his slightly smudged, but perfectly legible handwriting, addressed to Rachel Berry in New York from Finn Hudson in Georgia.

She reads the letter that night, sitting on the fire escape, staring at the sky, twirling her ring around her finger. Just because they're physically apart doesn't mean they aren't together in every other way, and she's looking at the part of the sky where Finn pointed out his star for her, and she can't see it, really, from the effervescent New York nightlife, but she knows it's there and knows he's there, wherever he is, he's loving her always. Just like she is with him.

Boys in New York like her. Like her in a way that she thought only Finn would ever like her, but she finds herself getting asked on dates all the time, and it doesn't feel right, with Finn off wherever he is, now, writing her letters, following his dreams, and she's still wearing his ring.

Santana always slaps her on the head when she tells her she said no again, but she doesn't want to say yes. Her heart is with Finn, and it isn't fair of her to take other boys' hearts and give nothing in return. In one letter, he tells her he's being deployed, and Hanukkah just doesn't feel as sweet without Finn stopping over to share in the celebration with her and her dads.

He continues with his letters, tells her he understands why she doesn't write back, but that he loves her, he wishes her well, and his mom told him she's in the musical, which is really awesome.

Finn sends her an email, and she replies to it, feeling her heart pound with every key she hits, and so their email correspondence begins.

She and Santana are cleaning and also singing as loud as they're allowed to whatever's on the radio when there's a knock at the door. Kurt more than likely forgot his key, so Rachel shrugs at Santana and pulls open the door without looking in the peephole.

And who is standing there but Finn in his military fatigues, wearing that familiar smile, says, "Hey, Rach," and she can't really be excused for when she tackles him, expects him to crumple to the ground, but he's stronger now, broader and harder, and he catches her and she's been so happy here in New York, she has, but Finn's always made her happy in a completely separate way.

She's crying when he kisses her, his arms locked around her body, and maybe he is, too, and when she pulls away, she puts her hands on his face. "You're – you're here."

He kisses her hand and nods, "I'm here."

Finn about breaks her heart when he leaves again, and he tells her he isn't sure when his next time off will be, but he loves her and he murmurs so softly in her ear she's sure she's made it up, "you don't have to wear my ring anymore." Which is ridiculous, of course she'll wear his ring, forever and –

The ring comes off seemingly on its own accord. She doesn't like to shower with it, doesn't want it to get ruined from soap and water lathered in her hair, and one day she puts it in her jewelry box and it just – it just stays there. Finn keeps emailing her, but it starts to hurt too much to respond, and life goes on and on and on, it does, and when she tells Kurt she feels bad saying yes to the cute boy in her music theory class he nearly punches her in the face.

"You're allowed to live a little," he tells her, "for god's sake, you're a junior in college. Live a little, Ms. Berry. Finn will more than understand."

Rachel's good at ignoring her email, and thereby Finn, but he still emails her, tells her he doesn't really expect a response ever, just wants a way to get out his feelings for the day, for the week, for the year.

When she returns to Lima the month after she graduates, she visits Carole and Burt, because even though she and Finn aren't technically together, she just…fits in this family. And Carole embraces her like a long lost daughter, and she's visited New York, of course, but it's different being here in Lima, in the house where she shared so much with Finn, with this family, and it's nice to sit on the couch beside Burt and ask him about Congress and drink Carole's homemade lemonade.

She dares to ask, "How's Finn?"

Carole's smile nearly breaks her face in two it's so wide. "Rachel, didn't he tell you? He's – he's coming home."

"F-for good?" Carole nods, and Rachel feels her heart do that thrumming jumping singing thing again, her whole body alive with Finn and her lips don't even have to ask when before Carole's telling her two weeks, he'll be here in two weeks.

Rachel's going to be in the city, doing workshop for her show, and she wants to be here when he gets home, make him some mac 'n cheese because he'll always love her vegan version more than the box kind, and she prefers he eat hers, too. That processed powdery cheese isn't good for anyone.

She hopes he'll come see her so they can figure out what they're going to be. She hopes he isn't mad, hopes he doesn't hate her for dating that boy, just for a few months, and she knows he won't be. Hurt, maybe, but angry, mad, hating, no, that's not Finn – at least, not who he used to be, that's not the boy she knows. She can't imagine Finn ever losing his goodness, though, and hopes for the best when she drives back to New York.

Finn is a part of her, in her blood, surging through her veins. Their hearts are always going to be bound together, always, and that's how she knows they're meant to be together (forever).

She's in workshop one day when a girl who works the front desk of the theater interrupts. "Rachel, there's someone here for you – says it's urgent."

A little confused, she follows her out – Carey, her name is – and in the hallway, leaning against the opposing wall, is her Finn. He's wearing a light blue button down she's never seen and these black slacks, and he's older, now, different, wiser, but there's something in his amber eyes and his easy smile that relieves her, and she jumps at him, like all those times before, and he catches her and kisses her.

"What do you say?" He murmurs when they part, and they're picking up right where they left off, not from that time he visited her on leave or that day outside the grocery store, or even in his car before the train station, no, they're picking up today from that last night she thought was the first of all of them, from the day they won nationals and he told her they'd have it all, from every other instance before all the way back to that library, when he'd leaned in close and asked her if she had any plans 'till graduation, and he kisses her cheeks before he continues, "Got any leads on a shoebox apartment for two?"

He proposes to her again.

It's movie night, his choice (which really means can he guess which movie she wants to watch), and they're eating her choice of dinner (which is really her guessing what he wants and getting the vegetarian version). She's given up on being a vegan, though she tries to eat as little dairy product as possible, and when she does, she ensures it's the best quality and that the animals were treated humanely.

And sure, it's expensive, but they can afford nicer things, what with her Off-Broadway lead and his savings from the army, as well as his job as a firefighter, which at first made her want to kill him, but he tells her he loves it, loves helping people and saving them.

They're comfortable. By no means rich, but they aren't struggling, and it's nice. They have a nicer apartment, too, and she loves living with him. She loves waking up on rainy Saturdays to find him home, making breakfast, and loves falling asleep on his lap in the living room and waking in bed beside him. They cuddle, sometimes – Finn's a snuggler – but more often than not, she gets so warm when she sleeps that she kicks off all the blankets, as well as Finn's arms.

But winter's different, winter is when she curls against him in the middle of the night, wraps herself around him, and she knows he loves when she initiates the snuggling.

Living together is, as Finn says, totally awesome. They don't really elaborate on just what they are, as far as labels go, but they have sex and they're in love, and when he introduces her to his station buddies, he says, "Guys, this is my Rachel," and that's enough. They're soul mates, it's been proven, and she's just glad she finally gets to have him.

He understands her in this completely separate level than anyone else, respects that she wanted to live her life separate for a little, so she took off her ring, and he tells her he understands, because he wrote her and emailed her when he could, but she wasn't always at the front of his mind. They've done it before, grown up without each other and then grown together, and she knows this time was the last time and any growing they do is going to be together, and she can't help but look forward to the rest of her life with him.

But they're just watching some new musical Rachel isn't so sure she even likes when Finn leans over and kisses her, his fingers grasping hers. There's nothing new about this, nothing different about the way Finn's mouth moves against hers, but what is new is the way he slips a velvet box into her hands.

"Finn?"

He covers her hands with his and opens the box, and it's a new ring from the one she wears, the one he gave her almost seven years ago, different, bigger, and she loves it just as much. "Rachel, I – you know how much I love you."

And she does, she does, she does, isn't that the whole point of the binder of letters and printed emails from his time away from her, isn't it all proof that he loves her more than she can even imagine? And she wonders if he knows how she loves him. "Finn, I – "

He interrupts, pressing his finger against her lips and slipping onto the floor on one knee, "Rachel, we're – we're something special. Something that – that not everyone has in their life, and I love you completely and unconditionally, and – I know I've hurt you, I know I broke your heart when I left and we've hurt each other, you know? But we're better from it, and I just – marry me. Will you?"

She leaps at him, hugs him tight and kisses him, whispers yes when his mouth opens against hers, and she swears when she cries, he does, too, and she knows this is right, this time, this engagement, there's no stigma against them, just Finn and Rachel – forever.

He takes ballroom dance classes as a surprise on their wedding night and she cries into his tux coat as they dance, their bodies pressed close together, and when the song comes to an end – 'Faithfully', their song – he kisses her just below the ear, and she tells him how much she loves him (so, so, so much) but he doesn't let her get past the first so and covers her mouth with his instead.

She dances with everyone, her dads, Burt, Carole, Kurt, Santana, Quinn, even Shelby's come with Beth to celebrate, but she ends the night with the most important person, her Finn, who stands much taller and more confident than he did when they were eighteen, whose shoulders span out somehow broader beneath her hands as they dance their last dance, and he hums and sings along as he twirls her, his brown-eyed girl.

Finn kisses her as the song ends, everyone cheers, and she loves him so, she tells him, and it becomes their thing as they assume married life, moving into a slightly bigger apartment and exchanging kisses as they put her Tony Award on the mantle beside his honorable discharge papers, framed, of course, and their wedding picture in the center. As the years pass, other photos join: Rachel and Finn with Mr. Schuester when he visits them in New York during another national competition placed in New York; their very first picture of their baby girl, a little hard to distinguish everything on the sonogram, but it's her; Lily's first Christmas, and on and on and on.

It's satisfying, she thinks, settling into bed beside Finn. He curls against her, fingers dancing along her abdomen, his smile curved against her cheek as he kisses her goodnight. She never imagined this, having it all, but now that she's got it – Broadway, her friends, Finn, her family – she can't imagine not having it all, and she thinks above anyone else, she's got Finn to thank.

He's fast asleep, though, and she decides on thanking him tomorrow. After all, they've got the rest of their lives.

i listened to joni mitchell's blue album on repeat while i wrote this.

as always, glee is not mine, review, and dedicated to rachel!