Rachel sat quietly alone at the open window in her spacious New York loft, staring idly at the blinking lights of a passing garbage truck below. It was cold, far colder than it should be on an early November morning, and she had been trying to remember what day it was for an hour. She had been trying to remember for a week, losing track of time, of when he left, of when she'd last seen his face. But all she could remember were the memories – the tiny flashes where they had belonged to each other and not to fleeting time.

I walked through the door with you, the air was cold,
But something 'bout it felt like home somehow.
And I left my scarf there at your sister's house,
And you still got it in your drawer even now.

He asked her to marry him seven years after they graduated from high school just a few weeks after she had won her first Tony and he'd signed an extension on an already impressive record deal. They had been home in Lima for her father's birthday. It was snowing when they landed in Columbus, which had turned into a decent downfall by the time they hit Puck's old street. His sister lived there now with her husband of a year and their new baby.

The brisk air was left behind as Noah led her into the cozy living room. There was a fire burning in the small corner fireplace and a Browns game playing silently on the TV. It was much smaller than their place in Manhattan but it felt like home. Puck moved around the house with a relaxed familiarity Rachel barely recognized. Rachel watched him hug Sarah and fawn over the baby while she hooked her navy peacoat over a hook in the foyer and unwound her plaid scarf from around her neck.

It was the first time she had seen him hold a baby since Beth. He hadn't been able to do it when Mike and Tina had their first daughter last year. He'd only stood next to Rachel and peered down at the tiny bundle of almond skin and black hair with a quiet sense of wonder. She knew that he missed his daughter but he never talked about it. They never talked about Shelby either. But as she came up next to him to see his niece, Noah wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed the top of her hair and Rachel just knew that this would be them someday.

Those had been the best days of their relationship, before she did fall pregnant and then lost the baby. However, it wasn't the beginning of the good times. No, those belonged to when they had first reunited after so many years of not knowing each other. Finn had married Quinn two months before, and they were old enough that the past didn't seem to matter anymore. She was a new graduate of NYADA and he had ended up in New York on a whim. When he had called her up to tell her he was standing outside her apartment with a waiting cab, she had known that it was the start of something good.

Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze.
We're singing in the car, getting lost Upstate.
Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place,
And I can picture it after all these days.

And I know it's long gone,
And that magic's not here no more,
And I might be okay,
But I'm not fine at all.

'Cause there we are again on that little town street.
You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking over me.
Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well.

Rachel watched him as he silently drove the rental car on the dark highway, the passing headlights only momentarily illuminating his handsome face. They had been on the road for a couple hours, and she was more than certain that they were lost. He hadn't said anything yet but she had seen the way he had cursed under his breath when he had missed the turn off miles back. But he was too stubborn to admit that he should have let her navigate and she was too in love to really care.

"I haven't heard this song in years," he announced out of nowhere before reaching down to turn the radio up high. James Taylor poured from the speakers behind her. "My mom used to play this album a lot after my dad left. It was always one of her faves."

"Daddy had it too, on vinyl, I think. He'd play it on rainy days when he was sad," Rachel told him as she turned slightly in her seat to watch him. The window was cool against the back of her neck and a brown leaf was stuck in the windshield. 'I've Got a Friend' was one of the first songs I learned to play on the piano. Dad insisted after I made them watch 'Toy Story' for the fifteenth time."

He reached across the seat and grabbed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. He smirked over at her when he felt her shiver. His simple touch had that kind of magic over her, and it was a feeling he loved to chase. Rachel made him happy, something he hadn't ever really been if he was honest. Puck just wanted to hold onto that for as long as she would let him.

"Noah!" he heard her scream.

He turned quickly to look back to the road, noticing as the stoplight turned from yellow to red. Puck didn't say anything as she pulled her hand away.

Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red.
You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-size bed
And your mother's telling stories about you on the tee ball team
You tell me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me.

And I know it's long gone
And there was nothing else I could do
And I forget about you long enough
To forget why I needed to...

Flash forward to three years later and they had been married for seven months. She was already four months into the pregnancy, happy to be past the perpetually sick part and just starting to show. His mother was visiting for the weekend and much to his chagrin, she'd brought all of his old photo albums. Rachel was particularly fixated on one of his baseball team from first grade.

"How did I not know you wore glasses when we were kids?" she asked as she looked at her husband. "I mean, I know you wear contacts but I never remember seeing you in glasses."

"Never worked with sports," he shrugged as he glanced down at the snapshot. His arm was thrown over Finn's shoulder happily, back before the growth spurt when they'd both been the same height. "Besides, guys in glasses never got the girl back then."

"Well, it's a good thing that times have changed," she teased as she tapped the bridge of his glasses playfully. They were black and stylish and allowed him to actually read the sheet music. He still wasn't a fan but Rachel was and he was a fan of anything that made her smile at him like she was now. "Otherwise, I'm not sure you could have landed a girl like me."

Puck thought about throwing off some easy line that illustrated what a stud he was or bragged about his self-professed badassness. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly. He was damn lucky to have a wife that loved him like Rachel, one that was going to be having his baby.

That had been the last really good week of her pregnancy before she got cramps the next week. Puck had been flying in from a show in St. Louis when he got the call, and their little girl was gone by the time he reached Roosevelt. Rachel's eyes had been so empty when he had come into her room. The baby was gone and there was nothing that they could do. No matter how much he insisted it wasn't her fault, no matter how much she tried to forgive herself, Rachel could never believe.

'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night.
We dance around the kitchen in the refrigerator light
Down the stairs, I was there, I remember it all too well, yeah.

The first time he got her to smile after they lost the baby was on her birthday. He had surprised her at the theater with a dozen roses, a designer gown and a reservation at her favorite French fusion place. They had talked about going out dancing afterward, but he had vegan ice cream cake waiting at him in the freezer. Instead, he had turned on "Sweet Baby James" and left the freezer door open as he led her around their tiled kitchen in a clumsy waltz with her in her gown and bare feet.

Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much,
And maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up.
Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well.

Hey, you call me up again just to break me like a promise.
So casually cruel in the name of being honest.
I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here
'Cause I remember it all, all, all... too well.

The last time she remembered smiling before she told him she wanted a divorce was the night that he left the loft for good. They had been growing apart for months, him throwing himself into touring because she was only pushing him away. She wished he would just cheat on her because it would make it easier. But he was so loyal, so in love with her, that it physically hurt to be around him. The only way to end it was to do it herself.

"I just can't do this, Noah."

"Do what?" he asked as he pulled the carton of leftover Chinese from the fridge. He told her later that he should have seen it coming but he never did. He had honestly thought they were going to have a quiet night of leftovers and movies at home. "Hey, do you want the rice or the noodles? I guess I could heat up both."

Rachel watched him pop the two containers into the microwave. "Noah, we need to talk."

He turned to her then, the most serious look evident in his hazel eyes. "Don't do this," he implored as he forgot about the food. He crossed the kitchen and took her hands in his. "Please, Rach, whatever you're going to say, you don't have to say it. If you say it, you won't be able to take it back. Just please, don't say it."

She smiled at him sadly, shaking her head. If only it was that easy. "Noah, we can't go on this way," she whispered as she drew her hands away. "You're gone all the time and even when you're here, it feels like we're miles apart."

"And whose fault is that?" he shot back angrily. She knew it was her fault, hers and hers alone. He had fought for them but she couldn't see through her own grief. He had tried to get her help, had sought out therapy of his own to deal with losing the baby. When all of that had failed to get through to her, he had worked harder than he ever had before because he had to have something to keep him going. "You're the one who is giving up on us, throwing out our marriage like yesterday's trash. Don't you dare say that 'we' can't do this because I can do this. You just don't want to anymore."

It was harsh to hear him being so blunt with her. Everyone had tiptoed around her for months, but she needed to hear this kind of honesty. "You're right, Noah, I don't want this anymore," she lied. It was easier than telling the truth herself. "I don't want this marriage; I don't want to be with you."

It was the first time she had ever lied to Noah, but she knew that it was enough to do the intended damage. He had packed his bag and was gone ten minutes later. His mother called to let her know that he was back in Lima the next day. Noah wouldn't talk to her when Rachel asked. He wouldn't talk to her again for three weeks.

That brought her back to the present, with a lap full of divorce papers that she had signed and he had sent back. It had come in the same box as a picture of them at their wedding, sheet music from the first song he wrote for her and the oversized plaid shirt of his that she always liked to sleep in. The only thing missing was his signature and him. Rachel had never felt more alone.

"I'm not signing them," he had told her when he'd received them. He was still in Lima six months later, and she just wanted this whole thing to end. "I told you before you sent them and I'm telling you again. I am not going to get a divorce, Berry."

"It's Puckerman, Noah," she reminded him. She had insisted on taking his name, even professionally, after they were married. "We both need to move on. We can't do that until you sign the damn papers."

"Even if I sign those papers, you're not moving on from anything," he told her knowingly. "You aren't just going to turn back into the person you were before, Rach, and you know it. We're not the people we were before; we couldn't be."

She snorted humorlessly into his ear. "Well, that was the person you loved, and she's gone. If your hypothesis is true, it should be easier for you to let go of me."

"Even if you're not the same, you're still my Rachel," he replied softly. "I still see you so clearly. I still see the girl in the black skirt who helped me wash my hair sophomore year. I still see the girl in the red dress bringing down the house with Celine at Nationals. I still see the girl in the plaid scarf in my sister's house. I still see the girl in the white lace gown walking down the aisle toward me. I still see the girl who's at home in our living room crying right now because doesn't want to let go either. I still see you, baby."

Rachel had hung up shortly after that because the argument was just going around in circles. The papers had been shipped overnight the day before, which is how Rachel ended up there staring out the window while the air crept in through the open window in New York City.

'Cause there we are again, when I loved you so
Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known
It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

Wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all
Down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all

If he had looked at the papers, really looked at them, he would have saw that she hadn't signed all of then either. She hadn't even noticed it at the time. But the last page, the one that required three sets of initials and two signatures was blatantly missing her name. Call it intuition, call it a twist of fate, but Rachel knew there was a reason she hadn't signed it. Noah had been right. She wasn't ready to let go any more than he was.

It had only been twenty-four hours since she had begged him to sign the papers. She had gone so long without seeing him. She missed him all the time but she never allowed herself to feel it. There was no stopping it now. The papers slipped from her lap and she jumped up to dash toward the phone. She needed to fight for her marriage. She needed to go to Lima to bring her husband back home to her.

Rachel heard something just as she managed to get the flight schedule pulled up on her laptop. It sounded like a guitar. She crossed the living room with her phone pressed to her ear. She was running down the stairs thirty seconds later.

The wind caught her dark locks as she rushed out into the frigid air in nothing more than that oversized plaid shirt and bare feet. He swung his guitar around to his back just in time to catch her in his arms. Rachel's tears soaked his cotton tee as they clung tightly to each other.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and then, "don't leave."

"I'm here," he murmured into her hair. "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well.

FIN.

Author's note: Lyrics credit to Taylor Swift's "All Too Well." This is a one shot, no additional chapters or sequels will follow.