A/N: Part-canon from the end of season 2 then goes to Futurefic!Finchel, T for potty-mouth!Finn who's trying to hold his tears in and blink-and-you'll-miss-it naughtiness. Rating changed to be on the safe side.
Disclaimer: Glee aint min y'all.
taste like salty tears and love all over me
She's crying. And he feels like an ass, but he really can't help it. He cares for her but he doesn't love her. His heart is somewhere else. Tethered. And they both know it. He wishes he could stop making her cry, he hates when girls cry, especially if they're crying because he made them cry.
And now he's crying too because there she is. A sad smile on her face as she walks out of the building, dark hair falling across her shoulders as she walks toward Puck's car.
He wants to go to her, comfort her because he loves her. He's tethered to her. And she loves him. She's always loved him. Even though his bullshit and it's taken him this long to realize it.
So he'll fight for her. He'll work to deserve her love, her heart. Because even though he may never do, as long as she's willing to let him try, he's going to.
He wipes the tears from his eyes because men don't cry. They fight. They work hard and they believe.
And he's not about to stop. Not now.
Aww crap, he made her cry. He really doesn't want her to cry.
She shakes her head, wiping the tears from her face as she grips his hand, hard.
"I'm crying because I'm happy. And you're an idiot, and maybe you'll always be an idiot, but I love you anyway."
And now she's smiling, which is what she wanted her to be doing in the first place. He grins at her.
"You love me, huh?"
She snorts, the sound so unladylike but so still Rachel and she doesn't pull away when he reaches out to hug her.
"I'm sorry I was such a dick. About everything. And I'm sorry I cost you your National's trophy. I know how much it meant to you."
She smiles at him again, dropping her gaze to her hands again.
He kisses her ear. "I love you, Rachel. So much. I love you."
So they screwed up at Nationals, and he probably needs to be wearing a cup the next couple of years around Santana and Kurt but it was worth it. Rachel loved him. Now he just has to get through graduation because there is no way in hell she's leaving him here in Lima. He's not a Lima loser, never will be and he already knows wherever Rachel is gonna be he'll be there too.
He's been working hard at football, and Quinn and Artie have been helping Rachel tutor him. He knows he's not dumb, naïve at best, and it's not that hard to learn. And as long as there's music, then it's even better for him.
"So, New York huh?" He whispers to her hair. She nods.
He looks down and she's still playing with the snow globe.
He wraps his hand around her palm, his thumb rubbing at the skin there.
"Think you'd like some company? Besides, Kurt?"
He knows she stopped breathing. She's frozen in his arms and he knows if she doesn't inhale anytime soon she'll be blue and he doesn't remember anything from the CPR lesson in health class and fuck-
"Are you serious?"
It's barely a whisper, but he hears her.
"My grades are already better. Miss Pillsbury showed me a couple schools I could get into, football or even a music scholarship. I can't dance for shit, but I know music."
Because only Rachel would chastise him for cussing when he's asking her if she'd mind if he followed his future to New York. Where she just happened to be going too.
He pulls away from her, titling her chin up so he could look at her properly.
He presses his lips to hers before pulling away again. "I love you. And I really don't want you to like, leave me behind and go take on New York without me."
He likes the smile spreading across her face.
"I'll work as hard as I need to. I want to be with you. And I know it's not going to be easy, it's already hard a fu- hell, hard as hell with all I've messed up. But I know I can do this. And if you're with me, we can both do this. You'll be a star on Broadway and I'll figure out what to do with my college degree. Because I'm going to college too. In New York. And I'd really like some company, besides my brother at least."
She laughs and reaches up to kiss him again, curling her fingers in his shirt. But then she's pulling away, burying her face in his neck as she cries.
What is it with girls and crying?
He walks across stage with a big fucking grin on his face. Because, fuck. College.
They hand him his degree, he smiles for the camera, blinking away the bright flashes and rocks a fist to the chants of Huddy, Huddy, HUDSON! because all those nights of beer pong and study sessions, usually after beer pong, with Rachel, all worked out.
He's not a Lima loser because he fucking graduated from college in New York with second honours. His grin is epic as he strolls through the crowd towards his family. His mother has Rachel on one arm and his brother on the next, gripping their hands tight as fat tears roll down her face. Rachel is sobbing just as loud and Kurt's nose is red so he's pretty sure he was bawling too.
"Congratulations son! Damn proud of you!" Burt sniffles a bit as he crushes him in a hug and he nods into his stepfather's shoulder because he knows. Burt has been there every step of the way with and even though he's not his father by blood, no one can tell him otherwise.
"Thanks Dad. 'S fucking great."
Burt chuckles as his wife pushes him aside and clutches onto her son's graduation robes, her hands tight around his waist and sobbing into his chest. Kurt pats his shoulder on one side and Rachel winks as she beams at him, dabbing her eyes daintily.
His mother is still blubbering in his chest, his girlfriend is silently crying beside him and Kurt and Burt look like they're on the verge too.
Fuck. He's not going to cry. He's gone through and put these people through enough shit in his life, and he's managed to pull himself away from all of that, so he just hugs his mother closer as she cries for both of them. He almost tears up a little when she pulls Rachel into the embrace then both women start howling.
She's awesome. He's always known that, but right now, this very moment, his baby is blowing the whole world away, all 5'3 inches of power and talent and he's grinning like a fucking fool because the people sitting around him are all oohing and ahhing about how fantastic the girl playing Elphaba is on stage.
He's proud. So fucking proud.
Her parents sit to his left, his parents and brother on his right. And all eyes are glued to the stage as she sings about defying gravity and he's reminded of that day in glee when she belted out the song in front of eleven people, all who're now scattered throughout the theatre at Rachel's opening night.
It's not her first play, or first play on Broadway even, but it is the first play she's performing with a rock on her hand.
("Rachel will love it, trust me." His mom had slipped the box into his jacket pocket before they left after Thanksgiving earlier. "It's the ring Chris gave to me when we were engaged and if anyone deserves it, it's your own star."
He hadn't been thinking of proposing to her, sure he knew it was a given and he was going to do it eventually, but with work, and Rachel performing and every other fucking thing that seemed to pull them every which way, it never seemed the right time.
But she called him, just before she went on stage, nervous for the first time, because, fuck. Rachel was made for this. She had no reason to be nervous. She's been singing since she could barely talk and if there's any one person who was made for this, that's Rachel.
So with all her blubbering and tears and worrying about flubbing her lines he'd just grabbed her close and whispered she just had to get through the night, show them how it's done and they'd celebrate until the sun peaked high in the sky.
He'd had her against the wall, ignoring her complaints about them having to redo her make-up, had most of the green gunk on his own face when he just breathed the words into her skin. She stopped breathing for about two minutes, her eyes wide as she stared at him and he was about to backtrack and apologize when she breathed out yes and next thing he knew he was on the floor, Rachel's dress around her waist moaning as her hips pounded down onto his.
She'd kissed him again when he slipped the ring on her finger (he'd taken to carrying it around in his pocket everywhere he went waiting for the right time that never seemed to come around) and it looked like it belonged. Plus, his dad sure had taste. She'd pressed her lips to his again and flounced out of the room, all confidence and poise as she channelled her character.)
Now, sitting there, ignoring Kurt continuously wiping at his jaw with a moist toilette, she was grinning broadly as the crowd hollered for yet another standing ovation, her arms overflowing with flowers. Someone thrust a mic at her and the sound of her laughter was rich as it bubbled over the speakers.
"Thank you. This was amazing, trust me. Everything I've dreamed of and everything I never imagined. My fellow cast and crew, are awesome!" She laughs again and the crowd hoots and hollers. Kurt and his mother are doing the crying thing again and even Burt dabs away at a tear. She makes a speech and thanks a few people and when she looks at him, the whole theatre melts away at her next words.
"And to my fiancé, who's loved me through everything, and always tells me, don't stop believing, thank you." She blows a kiss, and he grabs at it, tucking it away in his pocket and she bows again as the curtain finally falls and his mother and brother are screaming and hopping in joy because Rachel said fiancé and holy fuck they're engaged.
He's waiting outside her door with orchids, because she prefers those to daisies or roses and she's still surrounded by her cast mates but then she looks over at him and smiles. He's feels that little prickling behind his eyes as she dances over to him. She gazes up at him with that look and rubs her hand with the ring on her finger against his cheek, rubs her thumb over his lips and whispers "I love you."
Her smile is splitting her face and she tugs him into the dressing room, locking the door behind her.
He's dizzy at the end of the day.
He knows he was there throughout the majority of whatever happened because there's a ring on his finger, an envelope with Mr. & Mrs. Hudson on the table beside him and a glass of champagne in his hand.
He shakes his head again and looks out to the crowd. Santana and Tina are dancing with Rachel, laughing and rolling their hips and she's happy. Her face is glowing and her hair is flowing down her back, rich and thick as the brunette curls brush over the ivory lace of the fucking epic dress Kurt designed for her.
She's his wife.
Rachel Hudson nee Berry promised to love him before God, her rabbi and a bunch of people he really doesn't give a fuck about right now because she's dancing over to him with a ridiculously happy smile on her face.
She drops into his lap and he kisses her, because he can, legally and any time he wants to, and she smiles against his lips, pulling away to rub her hands over his jaw. He can still feel her rings, she refuses to take off the one his dad had bought all those years ago, and really, he doesn't mind.
"Hi." She winks at him. He winks back, leaning in to kiss the dimple in her cheek.
She shrugs. "Yea, there's this guy here I really want to see."
She nods girlishly. "Yea."
"Cool. There's this girl I want to tell something to. Well more like sing. Can you listen and tell me how it sounds? I mean, you're really talented and all. Don't want to make a fool of myself."
She grins at him, her eyes wet before she kisses his jaw and gets up, pulling him up and towards the podium.
Kurt put up him to this. They were working on his vows and he's pretty sure he bombed them when he had actually had to finally say them (out loud, in public) to her, but she was smiling and kept whispering I love you and even before the rabbi said they could kiss, she was in his arms, and if they were anywhere else her legs would be around his waist.
But the look in her eyes right now, brings him back to the first time he kissed her. On a school auditorium stage just before he foolishly ran out on her. His heart is practically pounding against his chest and he's half expecting to see it rolling over the floor, crimson stains all over the white shirt Kurt shoved him into but she's smiling. (Santana mentioned waterproof make-up at his bachelor's party – she was there and Kurt was at Rachel's bachelorette party and he tried not to think how hilariously and fucking epic that was – and he's glad to know she was right.)
You leave me breathless
You're everything good in my life
You leave me breathless
I still can't believe that you're mine
You just walked out of one of my dreams
So beautiful you're leaving me
Rachel is crying, one hand pressing over her mouth, the other pressing against her heart (on the right side) and she's looking like him like he just hung the moon.
As he finishes his song, she glides over to him, and grabs his and, kissing his palm before pressing it against her chest (on the right side) and pushes herself up onto her toes and tells him again, staring into his eyes.
She doesn't kiss him, he doesn't kiss her and he still has the mic in his hand so when he tells her that she literally takes his breath away every time he looks at her, just like the first time he heard her sing, he's completely serious.
He brushes tears from her face and the mic is close to her face so their audience can probably hear what she's saying but Kurt comes over and takes it from him right before Rachel presses her lips to his. Her face is wet and he's almost sure his is too but he doesn't know if it's from her tears or his own.
He's not thinking about that or anything else right now. His wife's hand, with her rings, is still pressing against his face.
Crying wakes him.
He's not entirely sure who's crying, but his head hurts like a bitch as it adjusts to the light in the room. He sits up and looks over at the hospital bed his mother is lying in, still asleep. Rachel sits crying in one chair, Kurt on the next. Burt stands at the door, his face haggard, eyes red as he stares at them. His eyes flick over to his, nodding his head to the hallway behind him.
He gets up, moving slowly and kisses his mother on the cheek, does the same for his wife and brother, squeezing Rachel's hand before he pulls away to go talk to his stepfather.
"How you doing son?"
He nods achingly, his hand reaching up to tap at the bandage on his head. "Hurts when I move."
"Go home, lie down, get off your feet." The older man huffs, walking over to the coffee machine. He punches in the code for black coffee, drops some coins in and hands him a cup, looking sparingly at the one in his hand.
"Are you going home?"
Burt stares at him.
"Is Kurt going home?"
The other man's face falls.
"Is Rachel going home?"
Burt's shoulders shake as he drops his head in his hand, not ashamed of the tears falling onto the floor below him. He squeezes the man's shoulder, offering what little comfort he can with a sprained wrist and aching ribs.
His mother is lying unconscious in a hospital bed and he's not leaving, not for anything. Not to go check on the car which he's sure is all fucked up, not to make sure Puck didn't do more than arrest the son of a bitch drunk enough to T-bone his car and not even thinking about his students. What does work matter when your mother won't wake up?
He looks up to see Puck standing beside him, a duffel over his shoulder and a bag of food in his hand.
"What's up man?"
"Refreshments. Clothes." He indicates each bag, dropping beside Burt on the bench. He claps the man's shoulder and squeezes. "Carole's a fighter, Burt. You and I both know that. She'll be up and chastising me about putting a ring on Quinn's finger any time now. Just watch."
His stepfather chuckles lightly, using his fist to brush the wetness from his cheeks and nods. "I just want her to wake up."
"She will," he says. And it's true. His mother is the strongest person he knows. Right in front of Rachel and Quinn. "She will. Besides, Sam's a magician."
It feels good, his face stretching in a smile. He hasn't done much of anything lately. He figures he'll be able to breathe as soon as he sees his mother open her eyes.
Burt's hand reaches up and squeezes the hand he has on his shoulder, his eyes shining with unshed tears. The three men met sit there in silence, drinking bad coffee and staring at a crappy painting on the opposite wall.
He needs to go check on Rachel. Make sure she and Kurt eat something, and take his medication. He gets up, takes the bag of food from Puck and walk quickly back to the room. They'd been in there almost two days now, any longer and they'll start paying rent.
They're sleeping when he slips in. His mother's eyes are still closed, and she looks like she's just taking a nap, despite the tape over her eye and the machines beeping behind her. He touches his lips to her forehead and drops the food onto the table.
Puck brought something for everyone, and he grabs a couple napkins and forks before he steps over to Rachel, she needs to eat. Pregnant and distraught isn't a good thing for her and the doctors are already concerned because she's already so tiny.
The container of food tumbles from his hands when he turns around to see his mother's eyes staring at him. Amber eyes much like his own fills with tears as her hands rests lightly on her stepson and daughter-in-law's arms.
He refuses to cry, because his mother needs him to be brave and he doesn't feel too selfish when he strides over and envelops her into a crushing hug, mindful of the wires and her injuries. He rouses the others, hollering for Burt.
He stands aside with Rachel crying softly into his chest as Kurt almost squeezes the life out of his fingers. Puck wipes a hand across his face as he watches Burt and his mother on the bed, looking over to him and giving him a curt nod as he turns back to the woman who practically raised him.
He'll stay strong for his family, because someone needs to videotape the blubbering mess of the Broadway superstar and New York's finest fashion designer.
He chokes back the emotions as his wife grips his soaked shirt tighter as his stepfather murmurs into his wife's hair. "You're OK. You're gonna be alright. We're good."
His mother is sobbing.
Rachel is bawling.
And he's pretty sure Kurt, LeRoy and Tina are doing the same thing in the hospital lobby. He's very much aware that he was here those few months ago, albeit for different reasons, but he will never feel comfortable being here.
And especially when Rachel is in pain. And has been for the past 16 hours.
He doesn't know what to do, but Rachel is gripping onto his hand, that's gone numb, and she keeps whimpering his name so he'll just keep doing that.
Rachel needs him to be strong, and even though he really wants to collapse in tears right now, he has to power through this. His mom is brushing Rachel's hair away from her forehead as she tries to get her to relax and the nurses are looking at him with something like pity in their eyes. He doesn't want their fucking pity. His wife is in pain and someone needs to do something the fuck about it because he can't move more than two feet away before she starts bawling again.
He thinks back to those months ago when she literally flew into the kitchen and waved a positive pregnancy test in front of him. He was shocked, staring at it and not listening to what she was going on about until he just had to kiss her. Really it was to shut her up, but he was happy, really happy and besides telling her, he just pulled her up to his chest, buried his face in her hair and took her to the bedroom.
They weren't trying, not really. But after she'd been sick for too long and she refused to go to the doctor's Kurt and Tina came over to try and cheer her up.
Her telling them they were pregnant was a surprise but he was ecstatic about it. Finding out they were having twins, fucking surreal and his face hurt from how much he smiled.
His parents, and her parents took them shopping, Kurt, Tina and Santana went bananas over baby stuff and Rachel fawning over Tina and Mike's son drove home the fact that they were pregnant with two babies.
He read all the books (because Rachel told him to) and helped her decorate what was previously his office into a nursery, two of everything, gender neutral because Rachel, even though she hated surprises wanted to be surprised. Really? It was Rachel. He didn't ask.
Rachel waking up a month before she was actually due? He was pretty sure his heart stopped. Bleeding on the sheets and doubling over in pain as her fingers dig into the skin of his arm. Reflex. Years of football and changing plays on the fly. Grabbing her in his arms with enough presence of mind to grab his keys and wallet, to his truck, then running with her in his arms to the emergency room, all on autopilot because he had no fucking clue what to do.
Brittany, the absolute angel she was, was the head nurse on duty and called his brother who called their parents and well, everyone else.
So Rachel screaming in the hospital bed and the words placental abruption they're screaming from between her legs fly over his head. His mom's a nurse, so he knows she understands what's going on when her face freezes as her eyes fly to his.
He bends down and cradles his wife's face, holding her tearful gaze.
"Sweetie, everything's going to be fine. I promise you. We're gonna have these babies and then you're gonna scream at me and teach me how to properly change diapers and I may mess up their bottles or something, but I won't drop them. I haven't dropped Luke yet have I? And you know Mike wouldn't hesitate to kick my ass. It'll be OK."
She laughs through her tears which is what he wants. His mom looks at him and nods over Rachel's head, her fingertips still brushing her wet hair away from her face.
"Rachel. You're going to feel some pressure. When I tell you to push, give me your best shot. OK? You can do this superstar."
He's really glad Rachel chose one of her classmates from college to be her doctor. The woman put up with her for four years, she's used to her drama and diva fits, so when she looks up at Rachel and tells her to put on the performance of a lifetime, he has one little less thing to worry about.
Rachel screams a lot, and he ignores the pain in his hands because he really never wants to put her though this ever again if he can avoid it but then there are more screams and one doctor is holding up a squirming baby, their son, to Rachel's arms. More pushing, more screaming and the other doctor is pushing a little girl onto his wife's stomach.
They stare in awe for a little before they're whisked away and Rachel pushes Carole after them before the one of the doctors go back between Rachel's legs. He needs to move like right the fuck now before he punches him, what else is he looking for?
When his son and daughter are laying on Rachel's chest, and she's looking at them with a dreamy look on her face, she doesn't even look at him the way she's looking at them, but he can't be bothered to worry because his babies are here.
He's a father. And he's scared as fuck.
"Finn." His eyes dart to hers. She's crying, she's been crying since she woke up almost a day ago in pain.
"Christopher Hiram and Ava Carole." She murmurs. She smiles, kissing them in turn and he does the same, then kisses her softly, tasting the saltiness of her tears.
"You know you're stuck with me forever now, right?" He tells her.
The look on her face creeps up from his fingers and curls around his heart, and she blinks slowly at him, more tears spilling from her eyes.
"Yea, well, you're stuck with me, and them, too."
She smiles and he kisses her again, resting his forehead on hers.
His son and daughter are home from the hospital. The longest three fucking weeks of his life.
Puck, Kurt, Santana, Mike, Tina and Mercedes were the ones who came to the house, bringing a change of clothes for everybody, changing the sheets in the bedroom, setting up the nursery, cleaning the apartment and taking the dog for a walk. There was no way in hell he was leaving his wife's side. The babies were in the NICU for a while, just as a precaution the doctor's said.
Chris had breathing problems and Ava was small, like father and mother. But they were better. And he didn't drop them when Rachel gave him a bottle and tell him to pick a baby. He sucks at diapers, they're usually red in the face before he gets it right and then his wife sweeps in like a frickin superstar and they're quiet again.
He's learning, okay.
Rachel's been a pro at this, but she's tired, he knows as much so his parents stay in New York a lot longer than they'd planned to while Rachel tries to get some rest. Tina and Kurt are pros at the whole baby stuff and they show him a thing or two.
But right now, it's the first time he's been really alone with his children, his Mom is staying at Kurt's, Rachel's buried under the covers and the babies are fast asleep.
They're beautiful. Chris has lungs like his mother and Ava is quiet, never making a peep even when her brother is screaming. He's so much in love with them, his heart squeezes every time he looks at them.
So he's just staring at his children sleeping with no care in the world and his legs give out as he collapses, burying his face in his hands as he just bawls.
He's held so much in for so long and to practically walk to the edge of everything and almost have his world ripped away from him he's not ashamed to cry over how completely fucking scared he was. And on some level, still is.
"Fuck." He's kinda hoping his wife isn't listening because she'll chastise him for cursing, and in the babies' room at that. But he's still bent over on the floor, his palms digging into his eyes as hot tears soak his shirt.
He was terrified when he saw the blood, when the doctors told him there was something wrong. He was scared as fuck when he woke up from the accident and his mother was sitting beside him in a wrecked car bleeding. Afraid she'd never wake up, afraid he'd lost the woman who'd stood by him since he was nothing but a picture on a sonogram. He was scared as hell while he waited for her to walk down the aisle with her fathers, afraid that she'd change her mind and run away. Walking out of his last exams, across the stage to collect his degree, he'd done one thing on his list and he now he was utterly scared of the future.
He was always afraid Rachel would say no when he'd asked her to marry him. She didn't have to want to be with him. She never had to hold his hand and tell him that she'd always love him and maybe always will.
She never had to love him. And he'd always thought he never deserved her.
But for every tear that fell he remembers the good things that pushed those fears away and he was glad he never stopped trying. Rachel baking I'm Sorry cookies. Playing Monopoly with his mother when she had the flu. His parents screaming at the top of their lungs when the three of them graduated high school. Mr. & Mr. Berry telling him he had their blessing whenever he planned on asking their daughter to marry him, making him promise to take care of her in New York. Her face when she said yes at the wedding. The look on Burt and Puck's faces as they held the babies. So, shit went wrong. He had more happiness to combat his worries. Fighting through the fears, because he was still here, in spite of everything, and Rachel was here, with two beautiful babies she'd blessed them with.
He was afraid but he didn't have to fear the future now, not when he'd made it so far.
Then Rachel's was there, sliding down to the floor as she wraps her arms around him, cradling him to her chest as he cries. See what he means about his wife being a fucking trooper? She just pushed two kids out of her and she's sitting on the floor comforting him while he blubbers like a fool.
But Rachel doesn't judge him. She just tells him it's OK to cry and rubs his back, strokes his hair and he's never been so in love with this woman when she starts singing the same song he sang to her at their wedding.
"I love you," he chokes out. Just because you know, she may have forgotten.
"I love you, Finn," she whispers above him. Because she always will.
So he sits there and cries until she disentangles herself from him, standing up and holding her hand out to him. He lets her pull him up and lead him to the bedroom. She slides onto the bed, pats the space beside her as he crawls in, cradling his head in her arms as she sings him to sleep.
And he isn't even ashamed that he's crying in his wife's arms. The woman loves him, even with all his bullshit, and her heart is bigger than his whole body.
So he cries, and Rachel lets him cry.
Who gives a fuck that he's crying? He couldn't help it. His baby was kicking ass!
Chris shouts and whistles as his sister lands yet another kick to the other girl's chest, knocking the wind from her and her out of the ring.
Rachel screams and does a little jig as Ava looks over at them grinning as her instructor holds her hand up as the winner. The two little girls bow respectively and clasp hands, giggling as they run back to the mat to sit down.
He sits back down, brushing a hand across his face, surprised at the wetness on his cheek.
"Babe? You good?"
He looks over at his wife's frown and Rachel raises an eyebrow. "Why are you crying?"
Chris snickers and he reaches a hand out to punch his son. He just falls over on the bench yakking at his father.
Rachel's eyes are questioning, and she reaches up and wipes his face dry, he catches her hand, feeling her rings pressing against his jaw.
"I'm happy. And kinda scared. I know Puck talked you into this, but did you really have to bring Ava with you to class that day?"
She smirks. "Are you still mad that Ava kicked you in the nuts? Relax Finn, you'll get over it."
"Just don't tell Puck, he'd have my ass for that," he mumbles, all too aware of how powerful his daughter can really get.
"Finn!" She chastises. He peeks down at Chris who's staring at them knowingly.
"Besides, who do you think she practiced on? Noah runs away whenever he sees her in that uniform."
He chuckles and bends over, stealing a kiss over Chris' head as the precocious six year old squeals in horror. "Ew! Mom! Dad! People can see you! Stop!"
Finn chuckles as he pulls his son onto his lap, brushing his messy hair away from his forehead, peering into Rachel's chocolate eyes that the twins inherited. His freckles, his nose and clearly his hair since it was as uncontrollable as his own is all that he can claim, not that he's complaining. The twins are already tall, so there's that.
"Hush. If you wanted a kiss, just ask for one Chris." He bends his head and kisses his son's mop of hair, the little boy squirming in his arms.
Rachel laughs at them.
"You're just jealous because Ava's kicking butt and you're not," she teases.
Chris frowns. "Nah, I sing better than her. She sounds like frogs dancing on glass." His grin is wide and mischievous and he taps his first place medal from the talent show two days ago that he refuses to take off.
"Yes?" His eyes are wide and angelic as he stares up at his mother, the epitome of innocence.
He chuckles; he's had his fair share of those eyes, all his life and he's almost a pro at resisting the three pairs he sees every day.
But as Rachel tickles their son on the bench beside them with tears springing to his eyes, he looks over at his daughter, she's laughing at her brother as she watches them. He blows her a kiss and she catches it, tucking it into her dobok then waves at him. He waves back, very much aware that he's crying again.
He remembers that day so long ago when a green-eyed beauty walked away from him with tears in her eyes, heartbroken because his heart was tethered to a brown-eyed angel somewhere else. He'd made too many people cry over him, and he had no real idea why. Not much has changed, except he's tethered to three people now, and he's willing to cry over scabbed knees, heads torn off dolls, bruises from taekwondo and teasing from the playground.
He loves his children, he's adores his wife, falling in love with her every day and he's more than willing to struggle to keep them this happy. And when, in another 6 months when his wife is crying in pain again (don't expect him to keep that one promise when Rachel wears strings to bed when his kids are at a sleepover elsewhere) he's willing to shed those tears with her, he promised her that the first time she told him she loved him, and she's still here, so he's not about to break it anytime soon.
"Dad. Can you please stop crying? My friends are gonna start thinking I'm a wuss."
A/N: It sure takes a real man to cry.. and best believe I'd comfort Finn any day he needs me to. Reviews?