Finn Hudson. A simple name could bring so many memories to her. A lot of names could, but his... his was the one that she tried to keep out of her mind for many reasons. It wasn't that she didn't want to remember, she did. But it was wanting to keep the emotions that came with the name at bay.

She could remember the exact moment she received the phone call from Mr Schuester. Not even from Carole or Burt, hell, not even Kurt had told her. The familiar name on the caller ID made her excited to hear from the teacher, wondering what would make him call her up out of the blue. Was it he needed an idea for the New Direction's set-list for the upcoming competition? Or was it to say Ms Pillsbury was finally pregnant? Nothing could have prepared her for what he said.

It was as if the entire world had crashed down around her with a simple sentence. She couldn't have pretended even if she wanted to, a choked out sob escaping her lips at the counter in the diner during her shift. Santana standing next to her, oblivious to how their entire lives had changed in one sentence. She leaned against the solid object, ears ringing as she tried to pay attention to what Will was saying, but she didn't want to. She didn't want to believe it for one second.

"Rachel?" Santana said as Rachel's hand set the phone down very carefully, eyes fixed to one spot on the wall. How could she tell her? She wasn't as strong as Will was, to be able to bring the world crashing down. "Rachel, what's wrong?" she asked again.

"It's-It's Finn," she choked out, breath shaking as she spoke. "We have to go, we have to go back." But they all knew it was too late to make a difference. Even if they could get there that very moment, she knew he was gone. She could feel it.

The drive back to Ohio was silent. Kurt had left long before Rachel had received the phone call. The two women had gone back to the apartment just long enough to pack their overnight bags, still dressed in their uniforms from the diner as they drove back to Lima.

"Did Mr Schue say anything else?" Santana asked. Not even the radio played in the car to drown out their thoughts.

"Just that Finn was in a car accident. He spared me the details." Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat as she stared out the window. Santana had agreed to drive, both of them knowing Rachel was in no state of mind to try and pay attention to the road long enough to get them back safely.

They pulled up to the hospital in Columbus, the building towering over them dauntingly. Rachel wasn't ready to do this. But she had to, they both did.

After the car was parked, the two walked into the building together, solemnly. Neither said a word, the only sound they made were the sound of their feet against the tile as the walked to the ICU waiting room and the sounds of their breath. They didn't know what to expect when they got there, but it wasn't much of a surprise to find their friends, their family, there already. Will and Emma occupied one couch, Artie sitting in a corner, Mike and Puck standing against one of the walls to make room for the girls to sit. Quinn and Brittany leaning against each other both asleep with Tina and Mercedes sitting at their feet. Kurt wasn't there, neither was Burt or Carole or Blaine.

As soon as Rachel and Santana saw the group, Will looked up. "I'll show you guys to his room," he said softly. The man looked like he'd gone to Hell and back, eyes rimmed red. Rachel couldn't remember the last time she saw her mentor cry. But Santana backed away before he could reach them.

"I can't do this," voice breaking as she turned and quickly walked away. Puck went after her just to make sure she was alright. But Rachel knew this was what she had to do. She took Will's hand in hers as he led her back.

What she didn't know was that everyone who was already there had already said their goodbyes. Although it didn't matter. What she didn't know was that he was already gone, the only thing keeping him alive was machines. But Will didn't tell her that, didn't want to ruin her last memory of Finn, of ruining her chance to say goodbye.

Burt and Carole sat in the room, Carole at this point out of energy to even cry. Staring at her son on the hospital bed, tubes and wires and the mechanical whirring of a ventilator taped to him, hanging from him.

"Carole," Burt said softly, hand resting on her back. He'd glanced up to see Rachel and Will standing outside the room. "Carole," he said again softly, pulling her gaze from her son. "Let's take a breather."

Rachel knew Burt, even in his own grief, was the voice of reason for the distraught woman. Carole stood from the chair, hand gently placing Finn's down on the bed, knowing she'd be back soon enough. Rachel compared her to a zombie - almost. Her movements were slow, yet so gentle and precise as if she would break him more than he already was.

The two grieving parents walked out of the room and down the hall. Rachel didn't turn back to see them disappear around the corner.

"I don't think I can do this, Mr Shue," Rachel said in a reserved tone. One hand came up to the necklace around her neck. The same necklace that spelled his name so he'd be close to her heart.

"You don't have to," Will assured her softly. "But you'll regret it if you don't."

"Will you stay with me for now?" she asked, knowing she couldn't do this alone. For being so independent, this was the one thing that she could not face alone. Not yet.

"Of course."

Rachel walked from the doorway hesitantly into the room. The sounds of the ventilator and EKG becoming more prominent the farther into the room she got. He was so pale, her hand reaching down to touch his. Of course he was cold too.

"He needs another blanket," she mumbled softly. "He hates being cold." She didn't know that Will had heard that same phrase spoken by Carole when he'd walked into the room the first time seemingly forever ago.

"I'll go get him one."

Rachel knew she was now there alone, and she felt truly alone for the first time in her life. Their conversation echoing in her head.

"That's weird. Traditionally only single girls line up to catch the bouquet," Finn told her with his signature smirk as she walked out of the bathroom, bouquet in hand. She turned to look at him as he pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning on, walking over to her. He really did look handsome in that suit. Still with that signature smirk. She cocked her head before smiling as he held up a daisy, pulling off one petal.

"She loves me," he stated, letting the petal fall to the floor. What was he doing?

"I am single," she told him confidently as he walked to the railing she was already standing by.

"You live with a guy." He looked back at her matter of-factly. "She loves me not." Another petal pulled and dropped. His demeanor was so calm as he did it, fingers soft with the petals as he plucked them.

"Have you been drinking?" I leaned on the railing, bouquet still in hand. He walked a little further away before turning back.

"You were the one who told me to stop moping around and stop being such a sad sack." It was obvious he had been drinking as he emphasized his words with the movement of his hand. Looking down at the flower again, repeating his actions. "She loves me."

"A-And it got me thinking about Will and Emma. About how relationships are a lot like flowers." He looked away from her momentarily before looking back. The look on her face entranced, a little sad. He closed the gap between them. "If you find the right seed. And you put it in good soil. Give it water and sunlight. Bam! Perfect bud."

They were so close, Rachel looking up at him with nothing but adoration. She could feel his breath on her face. "She loves me not." Another petal falling as Rachel looks between him and the flower.

"And then comes winter and the flower dies. But if you tend that garden." There he went talking with his hand again, emphasizing each word again. "Spring will come along and that flower will bloom again." She really couldn't help but look into his eyes as he spoke, getting lost in them. "She loves me." She took a breath before speaking.

"Are you telling me you want to be a gardener?" she asks with a smirk of her own.

"I'm asking how you can live with a guy and still be single," he said with a look of contemplation. "She loves me not."

"Come on, it's New York. Haven't you ever seen Sex in the City." That's when the look of contemplation turns to confusion. "We had a very mature conversation. Brody and I, we decided we weren't, you know, going to put any labels on anything. Or worry about what we are." He cuts her off.

"She loves me." And there's that cocky smirk again. "So do you really believe all that stuff you tell yourself about no labels, mature conversations, Sex in the City?" he asked with an eyebrow raise. "Really? She loves me not."

"You think I'm lying to you?" she asked, partly hurt, not understanding where he was going with this.

"I think you're lying to yourself." And there it is. The blunt side of Finn. "She loves me." The look she gives him is of sadness and longing. "And I think the real reason you can't commit to Brody is because you're still in love with someone else." She knew he meant him. "She loves me not."

"You?"

"You and I both know how this thing ends. I-I don't know how or when. I-I don't care where you're living or what dope you're shacked up with. You are my girlfriend. We," he motioned again to the both of them, "are endgame. I know that. And you know that."

She inhaled as he began to lean in. God, she wanted to kiss him right then and there. "We've got to go sing our duet. So..." She gave him a smile.

"Yeah." He looked down at the one flower petal left, thinking that the petal represented that she loves him. After turning to walk downstairs, she turns back, plucking the last petal, leaving him with a smirk again.

Sure it wasn't the last conversation she'd had with him, but it was the last conversation she had with him in person. If you didn't count whatever they'd said in bed that night. She sat in the chair Carole had previously occupied, holding his cold hand in hers as she let herself cry, truly cry, for the first time in the past twelve hours. Her choked sobs echoing around the sound of the machines as she squeezed his hand.

"You can't leave me yet," she managed to say in a whisper through her tears, through the sounds ripping through her throat, through the pain in her chest. There was a part of her that hoped for a miracle. Hoping he'd squeeze her hand or open his eyes.

"You're not allowed to leave me yet, Finn!" She pulled his hand up to her face, kissing his knuckles like she'd do when they cuddled, comparing how small her hand was to his. Instead of him holding his hand up to hers, it was limp, unmoving as she pressed their palms together.

There was so much she needed to tell him, so much they needed to say and do. She'd promised him seats to her first show. He had to be there. He'd said it himself. They were endgame. And the last moments of his life...she didn't know if he'd known that she really did love him. That this wasn't some game to her. That she had it all planned out.

She was going to make it famous on Broadway, win a couple of Tony's. He was going to be a teacher somewhere. Probably McKinley, helping coach a new group of New Directions to their National Championship title. And she was going to walk in and tell him she was home. And they were going to live happily ever after. That's how it was supposed to go. That's how their story was supposed to end.

The reality that happy endings really didn't exist was soul crushing. Knowing she wouldn't have her happy ending with Finn was absolutely, devastatingly, soul crushing. She'd lived the past five years with Finn truly in her life, as a friend, as a lover, as her endgame. That was how it was supposed to be, dammit!

"Rachel," Will said softly from the doorway, blanket in hand. She turned to look at him, not caring that her makeup was running and smudged and that she probably looked like a raccoon at that point.

"Thank you. I...I just need some more time with him," she managed to choke out. All he could was acknowledge her with a nod as he handed her the blanket.

She didn't want to let go of his hand, but she did momentarily to take the blanket so Will could leave. Luckily, he was kind enough to shut the door behind him.

"I know how much you hate being cold," she told him softly, spreading the blanket out and covering him up, careful not to pull on any wires or tubes. She figured this was the time to truly say it all. She sat back down, picking up his hand again.

"We were supposed to be endgame, Finn. That's what you'd told me, that what you'd promised me," she managed to say through even more tears. How was it she had more tears left to cry? She didn't understand.

She didn't understand why God could be so cruel to take him away from them. He was so young, only nineteen. He had his whole life ahead of him, a life full of memories and adventure and love. And she could not understand for the life of her why God, the God that she so truly believed in, could rip him away long before his time was up on Earth. Those more devout or those who didn't know him might tell her that it was his time, that this was God's plan for him, to only be on the Earth for such a limited amount of time. That his soul was too great for his earthly body. And she would have told them they were wrong. She had so many reasons why that wasn't true. Some of them were selfish, yes, but not all of them.

She wasn't ready to grieve him. She was far from ready to mourn him. So she sat there, holding his hand, holding it close to her chest as she memorized every inch of his flawless face for the millionth time. Or at least she saw it as flawless still. The car accident had left cuts and bruises across his cheek bones, his forehead. His lip was busted open still, and had a black eye.

For a brief moment she could pretend that he was sleeping, that his eyes would flutter open and he'd give her that cocky, crooked smile that she loved so much. Until she heard the hiss of the ventilator.

She didn't know how long she'd sat there, holding his hand, talking about everything that came to mind except the one thing she didn't want to say. She was not ready to say goodbye.

"Rachel," Burt said from the doorway, voice soft.

"Please tell me this a dream, Mr Hummel," she requested, needing to hear that it was just some nightmare that she'd wake up from.

"It's not, honey." He walked over, hand resting on her shoulder. "I wish I could tell you that it was." She knew he meant it, sighing. She was pretty sure she had no more tears left.

"What happened exactly?" Rachel knew it was better to ask Burt than anyone else. He was the strongest, the one who seemed to compartmentalize his pain the best. She heard him take a deep breath, waiting for the answer, whatever it was.

"He borrowed my truck to see you," Burt said softly. "You had just called him to tell him that you got Fanny in that play. He was so...proud of you, Rachel. So proud." She cut him off.

"So...this is my fault," she stated. It was not a question, it was a fact.

"God. No, Rachel, this is in no way, shape, or form your fault. He decided to go. You didn't ask 'em to. And you weren't the semi that ran a light," he assured her. "You know what he said to me right before he left?" She shook her head, because obviously she didn't know. She didn't like rhetorical questions especially in this situation. "He told me how proud he was of ya, that you're dreams were coming true. He couldn't wait to be at that first show, Rachel. We all knew it, but the way that he said it. He told me that he was tired of the 'will ya' won't ya' of it all. That he was going to New York to make you his again. That's what he said, with the brightest smile on his face. That's the memory I have of him, the one that I will always have of him. The last moments of his life, he was gonna get his girl. And he was gonna be the proud and loyal boyfriend, fiance, husband, whatever you'd let him be. The last moments of his life, Rach. Those were filled with nothing but love. You can't doubt that he loved you more than life itself. He isn't coming back, as much as we all want him to. I know it's hard to say goodbye, but it's time." She just nodded, knowing he was right, the sound of his boots walking away.

"Finny," she sighed, standing up, still holding onto his hand. "I don't want to say goodbye. It's not fair. It's not right. But...Burt's right, Finny. We were endgame for you. You knew we were together, you knew we loved each other, even when I didn't. I don't know what." She sniffled as more tears came. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you. You're my person, the one that I turn to when I'm sad or when I just need someone to be there. I told you this once. I'd always choose you. When it came to you, I was always going to be that moon eyed girl who freaked you out at our first Glee rehearsal. You were the first boy who made me feel loved. And sexy. And visible. You are my first love. And I wanted more than anything for you to be my last. But...I'm glad I was your last, Finn. I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, to ever be able to love you. But I did, I always will, with all my heart, Finn."

The water works didn't end, and she didn't know if they ever would. Leaning down, she kissed his forehead, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. It was the closest she was ever going to be to him in what she knew were his last moments. Re-positioning, she rested her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat for the last time. She'd always loved resting her head on his chest when they'd lay together, his arms wrapped around her with nothing but love. He was her own security blanket, making her forget about everything else in the world.

She took a few deep breaths before standing up, laying his hand gently on the bed again. He really did look peaceful, as peaceful as he could be. She knew he didn't feel anything, that he wasn't in pain.

When she joined the group back in the ICU waiting room, they all looked so solemn. Puck had managed to bring Santana back to the group, his arm wrapped around her. Kurt and Blaine had showed up, holding onto each other. Everybody had tear stained faces. They didn't have to say anything to know how they all felt.

"Carole and I have talked to the doctors," Burt told them all softly. "We'd..." Rachel saw tears well in Burt's eyes for the first time that day, even though she knew it wasn't at all the first time that day.

"We'd like you all to be there," Carole managed to say. "You were...you were all his family too. As well as ours. He loved you all." Her voice was shaking as she cried, trying to remain composed.

Nobody opposed, the group of fifteen making their way to the room, a silent death march as they packed the room. Rachel stood to his left, holding his hand, trying not to image what it would have looked like with their wedding band wrapped around his ring finger. Carole was on the other side, Burt standing behind her. The others filled in the gaps as the doctor walked in.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked. Everyone knew the papers had been signed, and Burt had explained the situation to the group when they had gotten to the hospital after it had happened. There wasn't anything left of Finn besides a body, his brain having no activity after the accident.

"Before we do, I want to give him a proper send off," Rachel said softly. The doctor nodded, taking his place next to the machines, but waiting for the girl.

"I wanna leave my footprints on the sands of time. Know there was something that meant something that I left behind. When I leave this world, I'll leave no regrets. Leave something to remember, so they won't forget," she began singing, the rest of the glee club joining in for the chorus, leaving Rachel for the verses. The doctor knew the song, knowing when the end was near. As she finished, he turned the machines off. The steady beeping of the heart monitor slowing down before flatlining with the last note of the song.

For some reason, Rachel felt nothing but peace with the sound, sniffling again. She could hear his voice in her head.

"I love you."

"I love you more." The distinct laugh echoing in her head.

"If you say so."