"You had another nightmare again, didn't you?," Rachel asked Finn softly, finding him sitting out on the fire escape of their Bushwick loft, head in his hands.
"Finn?," she continued, slowly lowering herself to sit beside him. "It's alright, if you did," she promised, relieved when he reached out blindly and squeezed her hand.
"It's alright," she repeated, soothingly.
"It's cold," Finn responded, his brown eyes clouding with concern, which at least was an improvement over the hardened look they got when he had a flashback.
"Why are you out here, Rach? It's too cold for you and the baby."
Rachel said nothing, choosing instead to lean closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. Finn was right. It was cold. And he was only clad in sweatpants.
"The baby woke me up," she said in a low tone, not wanting to wake either Kurt nor Santana. "I was hoping you would calm her down, but you weren't in bed," she continued.
"I looked everywhere in the loft for you and finally decided to try out here."
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