@ghostofaformerself liked for a starter!
“you’re— you’re actually here.” finn couldn’t even say anything else, closing the distance between them to hug her tightly. he knew they always had a plan in case one of them ended up in prison, but this was a disaster, something none of them could have planned. the whole gang dead or scattered or in hiding, their leader MIA, her right hand thrown in prison (after being abandoned, though no one but finn knew that piece of information). but finn reached out to some contacts after escaping prison, trying to get any information he could, eventually hearing rumors of rayne waiting for him. it took him weeks, but he finally got to the arranged meeting spot and here she was. she was really here.
he pulls back slowly, but doesn’t release her just yet, as if afraid she would suddenly not be real if he let go. he can feel tears forming in his eyes, too overwhelmed with a myriad of emotions and he quickly blinks them away. no, he needed to get it together. now.
and he did, pulling back in his emotions to focus on the moment. “are you okay?”
the first year is the toughest between rarely going out and watching the news that covers finn's trial. seeing her own face plastered across news outlets because she's wanted for being his accomplice—somehow there isn't even a whisper of victoria, let alone a photo—is unsettling. rayne spends it paranoid and with a pit in her stomach while trying to figure out how and where everything went so wrong.
an easing of tension allows room to breathe. her face doesn't grace the news or the papers anymore, but the brunette isn't so full of hubris as to think she's in the clear by any means. rayne settles into a routine that allows her some freedom of movement through carefully disguising her appearance and covering her tracks while seamlessly blending in.
five years. five excruciatingly long years of waiting, of hiding. rayne is a realist. she knows at this point she's on her own, that she needs to move on because she's gotten too comfortable here holding on to this false hope that he's ever going to make it. five years is a long time to wait.
rayne almost misses it, barely paying mind to the news anymore, but it's there. finn's mugshot is broadcast alongside the news that he's broken out of prison. she'll hold out a little while longer.
but days stretch into weeks and nothing comes of it. not a glimpse, a word, nothing. after five years why would he think about their plan? it's silly, bordering on childish, for rayne to think he has anything on his mind other than keeping himself from getting caught. a five year old plan is hardly important on the grand scheme of things.
then he's here. arms around her and squeezing like she's a figment liable to disappear of he doesn't hold on tightly. rayne's own reaction mirrors finn's—a tight, desperate hug housing the inherent fear that it's all a cruel dream. it isn't. not this time.
❝you came.❞ her disbelief is as apparent as his. ❝you're the one who was in prison for half a decade, i should be asking if you're okay.❞ rayne is caught between too many emotions to actually let herself feel them just yet, but relief is the one she can pick out the easiest.