guarding the heart

Chapter 1: Decision

I just wanna tell you guys now that this is a finchel story but will mostly be drama and not much Romance.

Finn groaned and turned over in his bed, ignoring the alarm that disturbed his sleep. His last exam for the school year had finished at 3:30pm yesterday and all he had wanted to do since then was hole up in his room so he didn't have to walk through Lima pretending he was fine and didn't feel like he had a sucking chest wound; like a fuckin' zombie.

"I'm…I'm sorry Finn. I – I just can't."

The words Rachel had said to him in New York circled through his mind like an annoying thorn that just wouldn't go away and wouldn't stop biting. The hurt was physical, a bullet straight through his heart, aimed and fired just as he thought he had finally figured things out. Fired just as he was taking some step, any step, to correct what he wasn't sure he could; he'd been too much of an ass, too indecisive, too self-centred to see how much his actions had hurt those around him. Now he'd just given her massive heartache at the absolute worsttime of year. He had dumped Quinn right after Sue Sylvester's speech at her sister's funeral. The speech had clued Finn into how attached he still was to Rachel. Kurt had reamed him out for his attempt to set things right with Rachel, and Rachel, after New York, hadn't given him more than cursory and polite greetings of either hello or goodbye. He noted with slight dismay that, other than Puck, no one had even bothered to text him about his absence the night before from the Glee end-of-year party.

After thinking about how he'd acted for the last six months, he couldn't say he was surprised. He'd fucked up this year-royally fucked up. He hadn't thought it was possible to fuck up more than Puck had sophomore year, but he'd definitely proved he could be just as big of a douche, if not a bigger, than Puck was ever capable of.

What were you thinking? His mind asked him as he lay there, squinting at the sunlight pouring through his windows. His immediate answer to his mind was I wasn't! And that was part of the problem, he concluded in a rare moment of early-morning insight. Nothing he did was really thought through. He didn't really think about trying to forgive Rachel for her indiscretion with Puck at Christmas, one that he had partially caused due to his dishonesty. He didn't really think about if getting back together with Quinn would be a good idea given their history; didn't really think about if attacking St. Jackass at prom was worth the consequences, and didn't think or even consider the possibility Rachel would not want to try again with him.

Now he felt isolated, lonely, and just plain stupid.

Maybe everyone is right about me, Finn thought to himself gloomily as he sighed and covered his eyes with his arm. Maybe I am just too fucking dumb to get out of this place. Too fucking dumb for girls – no – STARS like Rachel. Too fucking stupid to do anything worthwhile.

The door to his room opened and his step-father, Burt, walked inside a couple steps, arms hanging loosely by his sides. He already wore his standard dress; jeans, button shirt, vest jacket and ball-cap on his head. "Finn, come on, buddy. Time to get up."

"What for?" Finn responded lackadaisically. "School's out, summer's started. Hooray for summer holidays." His head dropped back on its pillow.

Burt sighed. "Yeah, you're bummed out. I get it. I know you loved her, Finn, but…"

"Not loved- love her. In love with her," Finn corrected quickly.

"…but shit like this happens sometimes. We can't force people to be with us. You have to just respect her wishes, get up and get on with your life."

The quarterback made a derisive raspberry sound. "Pffft. Doesn't feel like there's much point."

He heard Burt walking further into his room, and expected his somewhat gruff step-father to pull the sheets off his bed or something, but instead Burt just went to the blinds and drew them up, allowing the sunlight to flood his room full force. Finn grimaced as the bright rays struck his eyes and he turned over in his bed, more to keep the light out than to ignore Burt. He felt the weight on the bed behind him shift slightly, cluing him into the fact Burt had sat down.