Author's Note: This might end up longer than this prelude, but I can't help but want to explain some things. First, I completely understand if this (the entire thing, not just the note) goes unread by everyone. Not really writing for the reviews, but more just because I couldn't stop the idea.

Second, to that point, I want to forewarn everyone that this idea is NOT what I want to happen in the coming season. I stopped watching Glee sometime in the middle of season 3 (outside of watching some YouTube things here and there), but I still hold a flame for all that was great about the characters (before they were ruined - more than once). Those who know me know that I mainly write Puckleberry, but I was actually a Finchel fan for the show. I loved Cory and I'll definitely miss his face. So this idea popped into my head based on conversations with friends and my husband, actually, and became more of a challenge than anything. Could I do it even though I so adamantly hoped they would find a way to save Finn when the same couldn't be done for Cory?

Third, just a disclaimer that I don't anticipate any of these to be entirely long (I haven't finished writing it, but I wanted to start and post it to sort of light the fire because I definitely wanted it to be done and completely uploaded before the new season does start). That is not meant to reflect how hard I would imagine this journey to be. Rather, I just had these specifics snippets in my mind and am hoping you as the reader will fill in the gaps of time with whatever you can imagine the rollercoaster of emotions would be at any given point during the 5 stages.

Finally, thank you. For ... anything and everything. :)

Rachel bounced through the apartment building, an extra hop in her step as she climbed the staircase to the loft she shared with Kurt and Santana. It had been a long year, full of interesting twists and turns - some good, some bad - and now it was over. She was officially a sophomore in college; technically she hadn't received her grades from the last semester yet, but she could have flunked every single one of her finals and still at least passed. So, yes. She was no longer the new kid in school. More importantly, though, she was no longer in school.

It was her first full summer in New York. Last year she'd been put on a train to the city, told to never look back and to follow her dreams. Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly how things worked. Her fathers had met her at Grand Central Station, and from there they'd visited NYADA. They'd received a full tour, got her signed up for all her classes and then enjoyed a lovely dinner followed by a spectacular show in the theater district. After a weekend, they'd gone back to Lima and Rachel had spent the rest of her summer packing and preparing for the actual move, which hadn't happened until early August.

"Well maybe I don't want to get herpes on my summer break!" Kurt shouted, his voice penetrating Rachel's ear drums even before she'd completely opened the door. She almost considered slowly backing away and taking a walk around the park just to avoid whatever chaos was waiting inside the loft, but it was too late. Besides, it seemed the topic of conversation was centered on plans for vacation and Rachel very much wanted to be a part of that discussion.

"Get the stick out of your ass, Grandpa Hummel. It's just the beach."

"It's a dirty beach," he argued, his head turned and eyes acknowledging Rachel but then quickly reverting back to the Latina in front of him. "And I'm not saying we stay home the entire time. I just …"

"You want to go home? To Lima?" Rachel asked, a mix of panic and confusion in her voice. "When we last spoke, you seemed excited about staying in New York."

"I am," he all but shouted, clearly feeling suffocated between Rachel and Santana badgering him about the same thing. "Not everything is here, though."

"You mean not everyone," Santana practically snarled before almost-whining, "It's summer break! We're 19. Let's be 19."

"In the city that never sleeps!" Rachel piled on, absently wondering when she'd started agreeing with Santana. "We can visit all the classic tourist spots we haven't been able to see yet and …"

She sighed when Kurt walked away, toward a faint buzzing sound that ended up being his cell phone ringing. It was on the coffee table in the living room, but Santana had thrown her pillow-mate on top of it after she'd woken from her nap, apparently. The girls rolled their eyes at each when he answered with a heavy clip in his voice, clearly exasperated with his roommates. Rachel was just about to mock him openly about being so wishy-washy because of a guy when Kurt's face suddenly drained of all color and the phone fell to the ground. In the time it took her gaze to follow the near-fatal descent of the mobile device and back up, Kurt had sprung from his spot to sprint to the bathroom.

Rachel and Santana shared a look that neither knew they'd perfected in the brief time they'd become roommates, but nonetheless had Rachel running after Kurt while Santana retrieved his phone. Rachel had every intention of following Kurt inside the small restroom, but the sound of his retching kept her outside the thin wooden door, looking back at Santana in concern. Only then did she see the same ghostly expression cross the Latina's face, an audibly shaky inhale the only sound released before she hung up.

"What's going on? Is it his dad?" Rachel whispered, though it made absolutely no sense. Santana was not the robot they'd always pegged her as, but she wouldn't have been so obviously distraught over Burt. In fact, even when faced with what others would consider some extremely heavy emotional baggage, Santana had always managed to at least appear completely composed. She'd looked just the opposite then, though, her eyes wide and hollow when they finally lifted from the phone to look back at Rachel.

"Finn's dead."

It was such a short sentence, and yet the weight of the words hit her like a ton of bricks. And Rachel wasn't sure if they were the only words Santana had said, but they were the first and last two she'd heard before fainting.