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Drabble: The past is gone but something might be found

Holygoof101 wrote:

Sam should NOT have let him walk home from the bar. Of course it’s not like he gave him much of an option. He was drunk and tired and he was leaving one way or another. Taking his keys was probably a good idea. He’ll have to thank Sam for that another time. He also really hopes that Sam’s going to open up the tire shop in the morning because he’s totally not going to be in any condition to do that. And there’s this big fence in front of him and… How the hell did he end up here?

It’s all familiar territory. The sidewalk, the driveway, the front door, and the five hundred and fifty foot fence that protects the backyard. The fence he’s trying to figure out a way to climb. Except it’s been raining and it’s slippery and totally not as easy to scale as he remembers it being. He also wasn’t drunk any other time he tried to climb that fence but that’s totally beside the point. The point is that this fence and him they are having a disagreement. He wants in the backyard and it seems to want to keep him out. And that’s just… Well it’s just not cool. He and this fence are not getting along and if he were in the right frame of mind he’d walk away. He’d walk back to the sidewalk and keep walking until he got to his place. Which even drunk he knows is in the complete opposite direction of where he is right now. And he’s already put forth too much effort, so he’s going to try and conquer this fence one more time. Or maybe two. Or even three if that’s what it takes. Because right now the fence is still winning.

"Finn? Finn? What are you doing?"

The fence is winning and that sucks because he’s pretty sure that the front porch light just came on and he knows that’s Rachel’s voice and she’s watch him as his feet lose their grip and he lands on his ass in the wet grass beneath him. “I was just ahhh…” There is no good explanation for this, even if there was he wouldn’t be able to come up with it sober let alone as drunk as he is. “I was just climbing your fence.” He says with a shrug and points, “But it wouldn’t let me. Because it, like the rest of the world is just bound to keep us apart.”

"Climbing my fence?" She lets out this exasperated half laugh. Like she wants to be angry but just can’t and before he really has time to process it all she’s taking his hand to lead him inside the house. "I think the front door would have been a more proper option. Though at two am I don’t believe there is such thing as a proper option."

"It’s two am; your window seemed like my best bet." He gives her a goofy grin and an apologetic shrug. She’s not mad. He knows she’s not mad because he still knows her and if she were mad she would have stormed back into her house. Instead she’s pulling him from the wet grass and leading him into her house and down to her basement.

"Stay here." She tells him as she pushes him onto the couch in her basement and disappears into the darkness.

He doesn’t want her to go. He wants to look for her once she’s left his immediate line of vision. But she’s pushed him onto the couch and after his war with the fence and the hours of drinking with Sam, his body kind of feels like it weighs twice his weight. So moving to find her really isn’t an option. Plus the couch in her basement was always so comfy. He’s forgotten how comfy it was and he’s almost halfway asleep when she shows back up pushing Advil towards his lips and handing him a bottle of water. He’s pretty sure this qualifies him as the needy drunk.

"Thank you," he mumbles as he takes the water. Her fingers are sliding through his hair and she’s looking down at him with this look. Like she hasn’t even really questioned why he’s here. Sure she asked him what he was doing during his epic battle with the fence but outside of that she’s not really questioning him. It’s like she just knows, or maybe she expected him to show up. He’s going to go with expected him to show up because she’s looking down at him with those eyes and her fingers and gliding over his neck now and if he weren’t so drunk he’d say to hell with it and kiss but he’s drunk. And kissing her requires movement and that’s effort so instead he’s going to talk now.

"Why did we let everyone talk us out of it?" Her eyes widen at the question. Like she’s trying to pretend she doesn’t know what he means but really she does. She’s Rachel and she’s always known him, even now. So she knows what he means.

He knows he’s drunk and he should probably just keep his mouth shut but she’s here. And she’s bring him water and running her fingers through his hair and it’s just… It’s like he can’t not talk. “Like why didn’t we do it? Why didn’t we just get married?”

"You think about that?" Her fingers stop mid stroke through his hair as her voice comes out in a whisper.

His shoulders shrug, even if he wanted to lie this is just something he wouldn’t be able to lie about. “Sure. I mean I know it was years ago but I still think about it. I think about it all the time. How thing would be different.”

"Different how?"

She’s still whispering. And he knows that’s not because she’s afraid someone will hear them. Maybe it’s because she wants him to keep his voice down. He can’t quite tell the difference between whispering and yelling right now but he doesn’t think that’s the reason. Maybe she’s afraid of his answer. Maybe she’s afraid of what he’s going to say because it’s completely different from what she thinks now. Or maybe and there’s a small surge of hope at the thought, but maybe she’s afraid because she feels the same way he does about the whole thing.

"Different like different. All I wanted to do was love you. And you were going to let me do that but then it’s like all these other voices get in the way. All these other opinions and all they saw was the bad stuff. All they saw was negative and the bad that could happen. But you and me, we never thought about that. We never saw the bad stuff until it was pointed out. And I don’t know just… Maybe not seeing the bad stuff was a good thing. Maybe if we hadn’t listened to all those opinions about the bad stuff that could happen it never would have happened. And I’d still be with you… We’d still be together and happy." He lets his shoulders shrug a bit as he finishes because he doesn’t really have anything else to say. That’s what he was scaling a fence to tell her. That they shouldn’t have listened because it was all just stuff that could have happened.

"And maybe I would have just ended up back here running a tire shop but who the hell knows because any shot I had at having a different future… One with you got blown to hell years ago because we listened to what could have happened. So yeah I still think about it."

He can’t clearly make out her face in the darkness but it’s almost like he can see a spark in her eyes followed by her expression softening. “Do you ever think it still could happen? Us. A future together. Do you ever wonder if that still could happen?”

She does think about it the same way he does. She does still think about it. He knew it before he got there tonight because he’s pretty sure there’s no number of years that will ever make him not know how she thinks. But in this moment knowing she still thinks about it, it’s all he wants to know about her. His head nods in a yes motion as she moves down and molds her body to his on the couch.

"I think you need to stay tonight. We can’t change the past Finn but if you remember this conversation in the morning we’ll go from there."

A half smile crosses his face and he drapes his arm over her. He wants to make sure she doesn’t go anywhere. Not tonight and not ever because he is going to remember this conversation in the morning. And they can go from there. Without all the other opinions. And without all the bad stuff.