A one-shot, because it's a snow day and I'm bored. Lyrics: Mama Who Bore Me from Spring Awakening. Also the show isn't on Broadway anymore even though in this fic it is. :) Thanks and enjoy.

He had no idea what he was doing.

All he knew was that he was not happy.

His wife, Julie, was just driving to the store.

Drunk drivers ruin everything.

"Finn, please!" Quinn had demanded, tears in her eyes, as she gripped onto Noah for support. "Please, I can set up a session for you, I can-"

"Quinnie," he interrupted. "It won't do any good."

But she didn't listen.

So now, here he was, stuck in therapy.

"Mr. Hudson," the therapist says, not even looking him in the eye. "It's been thirty days, your thirty-day session is out. Do you want to continue seeing me regularly?"


"Mr. Hudson, please," she says, making eye contact now. "I think it would be a…wise choice for you to continue with therapy. Please, just…think about it…" Her eyes are big and brown, but he refuses to let those eyes remind him of her eyes. Julie's eyes were blue, he tells himself. There is absolutely no reason that those brown eyes should make you think of anyone. Especially not her. It was high school. That was years ago. Its over now. She's gone. She's gone, and you'll never see her again.

"I'm sorry," he says, looking at the ground. "But a friend signed me up for this. I shouldn't even be here-"

"Answer a question for me, would you Mr. Hudson?" He doesn't want to answer any more questions, but he knows that she's not going to give him a choice. "Are you happy?"

Are you happy?


"When were you happy?"

Before I let her get away.

But he doesn't answer.


He leaves the building,

And never looks back.

When he got home, he turned on the TV…

And there she was.

Damn her success!

And…why is he sitting next to her?

Him of all people?

He sits down, turns up the volume, and asks himself: Why can't I be sitting next her? And why does it have to be him? Him of all people?

"So, Jesse, Rachel," says the interviewer, all plastered-on smiles, makeup and hairspray. "What can you tell me about the show?"

"Well, Spring Awakening is a folk-rock musical, based in Germany in 1891. Nothing like this has ever really hit Broadway before, so it's very exciting for all of us!"

"Yes," he says, nodding as she talks. "It's about these adolescents growing up in Germany, who have never really been taught the things they need to know. The story is really about them discovering themselves."

"And what about your characters?"

"Wendla is a very...innocent girl, and she's kind of out-of-the-loop on some things. That's where this guy comes in!" She pointed her thumb at him as he laughed.

"Melchior's family is much more open-minded then Wendla's, so he knows more about the topics that are kept in the dark to her." He laughs some more. "Plus, he reads a lot!"

"And, I have to ask, are you two together in real life?" The interviewer looks like she really does want to know this answer.

They look at each other, and after a beat, it's her who answers.

"No," she says. "We aren't dating, but we're probably as close as can be. Jesse's like my brother!"

"And it'd be really creepy to be dating my sister," he comments.

"We dated for a little while in high school, but it didn't really work out. Then I had a bad break-up and he was there for me. We've been best friends ever since."

"And now we get to work together!" They both smile when he says this. "Its like a dream come true!"

"It is a dream come true!" She corrects him, smiling still.

"Okay, I think we're out of time, but you can catch Rachel Berry and Jesse St. James in Spring Awakening, open now at the Eugene O'Neill Theater!"

He turns off the TV,

Turns on the computer,

And buys a ticket.

Mama, who bore me

Mama, who gave me

No way to handle things,

Who made me so sad.

Mama, the weeping

Mama, the angels

No sleep in Heaven

Or Bethlehem.

Some pray that one day

Christ will come a'callin'

They light a candle

And hope that it glows.

But some just lye there cryin'

For Him to come and find them.

But when he comes

They don't know

How to go.

Mama, who bore me

Mama, who gave me

No way to handle things,

Who made me so bad.

Mama, the weeping

Mama, the angels.

No sleep in Heaven

Or Bethlehem.

Should I make this a two-shot? Maybe…