Author's Note: This is the third oneshot in a connected series about Finn's death that I've been writing called "To Have Loved and Lost". Each oneshot can be read on its own, and you should be able to understand everything fine if you only want to read the oneshot and not the whole seires, but I'd highly recommend you give the previous two installments in my series a chance. The first one had Finn still alive… the second one dealt with Puck and Quinn, and a little Burt and Carole. This one picks up where that one left off. It's a few hours later in a different character's point of view.

"Pain is important: how we evade it, how we succumb to it, how we deal with it, how we transcend it."

- Audre Lorde

He Was My Brother

Kurt's POV:

Kurt was making scrambled eggs for himself, humming a pleasant tune he'd gotten stuck in his head the day before. He was in a good mood that Saturday morning, and Rachel and Santana were still fast asleep. His phone was set to vibrate so as to not disturb the girls, but he still heard the faint buzz and glanced over to the kitchen table where he saw it lit up as it silently "rung". It slowly began to crawl across the table on its own and Kurt let it be, because he didn't want to walk away from the stove just then and risk burning his breakfast.

I bet it's my fiancé, he thought with a grin, still quite excited to be able to call Blaine that, even just in his own thoughts. It had only been a few weeks singe they'd gotten engaged.

As soon as his eggs were done and had been scooped onto a plate, Kurt headed over to the table. He reached his hand out and pulled the phone toward his face, his brow furrowing when he read the caller ID. Why would my dad be calling me? He always waits for me to call him. We have a designated Saturday afternoon appointment for catching up on each other's lives…

Kurt returned the missed call as he put a forkful of eggs into his mouth. When his dad answered, he swallowed the bite he'd currently been chewing, then replied.

"Hey, Dad. What's up? You called?"

"Yeah," Burt said slowly, seriously. "I… There's really no good way for me to tell you this… son, your brother..." Burt hesitated.

Kurt waited patiently.

"Finn died last night."

Kurt didn't register it at first. "He… he what?"

"He passed away, son. Um… it was alcohol poisoning… drank too much at a frat party… by the time Puck called an ambulance it was too late. No one could wake him up. Your stepmom and I got the call to come down to the hospital at three thirty last night."

Kurt felt numb. This… this couldn't be really happening. Suddenly, Kurt remembered.

"But, Dad, it was his birthday yesterday." Kurt said it as though it being his birthday meant he couldn't be dead.

"Yeah, Puck said he was out celebrating it…" Burt said heavily, sighing as he trailed off.

There was a long, silent pause as they listened to each other's breathing on the line, thoughts of Finn… and the fact that he was now dead…. overwhelming their thoughts. Kurt realized he was still holding his fork in his other hand, his eggs getting cold. But of all the things in the world, that really didn't matter at all right now, not when Finn would… would never get to even eat eggs again, not ever… Kurt's thoughts were interrupted when his dad spoke once again.

"Kurt… there's one more thing, and I hate to ask you to do this, but Carole kind of insisted…and I think she's right, if it's not too much to ask of you, I mean…"

"What, Dad?" Kurt asked breathlessly, trying to hold it together, to refrain from really starting to cry until they had at least hung up. "Anything, of course I'll do whatever you guys need me to do, just… tell me." Kurt couldn't believe this. Carole and Burt… and Puck were so far away, back in Lima, dealing with this. How could this be happening?

"We think it'd be best if you're the person to tell Rachel," Burt finally explained.

That hit Kurt like a rock. His eyes shot up toward Rachel's curtain, behind which she was still sleeping peacefully.

"Carole could call her if you can't do it, but we think it'd be… better if she found out from you, her best friend, someone who's there with her in person."

Kurt nodded as he finally replied. "Yeah… I understand," he replied, his voice breaking. He steadied himself and then added, "I'll do it."

"Are you sure, Kurt?" his father asked with concern. "We know this is already gonna… be really hard for you. We don't want to make this even harder-"

"It's fine," Kurt said, cutting him off. "I… I need to do this. I get it. I just… are you okay? I mean, I can't imagine what Carole is going through…"

"She's hanging in there. We all are."

"Right. Well… um… tell her I'm… I'm…" Kurt wasn't sure what to say.

"I will," his dad replied nonetheless. "I love you," Burt said as a parting line.

"I love you too," Kurt replied, and with that he couldn't help but finally start to cry. Tearfully he said, "Goodbye."

Burt remained strong. "Goodbye, son. Call me back later if you… if you need to."

"I will. Bye."

Kurt hung up the phone and started to really cry. Silent tears cascaded down his cheeks in a never-ending flow. He let them fall, not bothering to wipe them away, and stood up, grabbing his plate. He was no longer hungry, not after that news. He threw the stupid cold eggs in the garbage and then turned on the water. He might as well clean the plate now, like he always did right after eating. They had to wash everything by hand in that loft of theirs. He put on the protective gloves that were always draped over the edge of the sink, added some extra soap to the sponge, and then started scrubbing his plate far more ferociously than was necessary. Damn it, Finn. I thought your naivety was endearing. But it just got you killed, didn't it?

Kurt placed the clean plate and also now clean fork in the dish drain and proceeded to grab the pan from the stovetop and clean it too. Damn it, Finn. Damn it. The silent tears turned into harder sobs. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He stopped washing the pan and turned off the water, needing a break. He stood there at the sink trying to keep his sobbing silent, because he didn't want to wake up his roommates with hysterics. Not when he'd have to be the one to tell both of them this news.

Santana woke up anyway, on her own, and emerged from behind her curtain to see Kurt standing at the sink, his back to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked mockingly. "You know, you actually need to turn on the water if you want to use the sink."

Kurt quickly tried to compose himself, and he kept his back turned away from Santana's line of sight as he quickly pulled the gloves off of his hands and then tried to wipe away his tears hastily. He failed at hiding the fact that he'd been crying though, as Santana had by then walked up to him and was now right beside him, taking in his puffy eyes and all of it.

"Kurt," she said seriously, with genuine concern. "What's wrong?"

Those words were enough to send Kurt back to the crying.

"Hey, hey… it's okay," Santana said, trying to comfort him.

"No it's not," Kurt tried to explain. He took a few deep breaths to ground himself. "Finn's dead. My dad just called me to let me know."

Okay, there. That wasn't too hard to say, Kurt thought with relief, not caring in the slightest how thick with tears his voice had been as he said it.

"What the hell happened?" Santana asked in shock. "Did Hudson get in a horrific car crash or something? I mean people our age don't just die," she said, sounding like she didn't really believe he could have died.

"Apparently… it was alcohol poisoning," Kurt said quietly.

"Damn."

"I know," Kurt replied somberly.

"Let me finish washing that pan for you," Santana then said, and Kurt felt a bit taken aback.

"What?"

"It's literally the least I can do. It's almost clean anyway," she said with a shrug, glancing into the sink.

"But…"

"Kurt, your brother just died," she nonchalantly commented, trying to drive home why she was offering to be nice and finish his chore for him. She didn't seem fazed by Finn's death at all. But then Kurt let what she said sink in.

"My brother…"

Santana looked at him with pity as he realized how much Finn really did mean to him.

Kurt looked toward his cell phone, which was still resting on the kitchen table.

"I think I need to call Blaine," Kurt told Santana. She nodded understandingly.

Kurt grabbed his phone, then started walking toward the loft's entrance. He wanted to go outside into the hallway or onto the stairs or something. He didn't want either of his roommates overhearing his call. He hesitated right before reaching the door.

"Santana?"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell Rachel. I… I should be the one to tell her," he stated.

"Oh wow, um… yeah, okay," she replied.

Kurt quickly dialed Blaine once he was outside.

"Kurt?" his fiancé answered.

"Blaine," Kurt tearfully started as he gently sat himself down on the top step of the staircase, but the younger boy cut him off.

"Your dad told me a couple of minutes ago," he said gravely. "He thought you might need to call me."

Kurt started to cry. He was really grateful that his dad knew him so well.

Blaine listened and waited patiently for Kurt to calm down enough to talk.

"He was my brother," Kurt said simply. He wanted to say so much, but that's all he could say. He hoped it expressed everything he wanted it to… that… that he loved Finn, that Finn was so special to him… that he knew Finn had loved him too. The tears streamed silently down his cheeks once again.

"I know he was," Blaine replied. "I know."

"How… how am I… gonna… tell Rachel?" Kurt asked softly, the tears lacing every word. He sounded genuinely unsure how he'd ever be able to manage the task.

"Oh, gosh," Blaine replied. "I think… I think you have to just say it. And then… and then be there for her, if she needs a shoulder to… you know… cry on."

"You sound so wise right now, Blaine," Kurt said with a smile.

"Well… I'm trying," Blaine said back.

"You know," Kurt mentioned softly, "this feels so much different than when my mom died."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I mean her death was sudden too, a car crash, and my dad was the person to tell me what happened too, but…"

"But you were just a kid, and she was the person who took care of you?" Blaine asked quietly, his tone full of caution, as if he was afraid he'd just said the wrong thing.

"Yeah, I mean… it felt different, it… I think it hurt less," Kurt breathed in a voice so quiet he wasn't even sure if Blaine would still be able to hear him on the other end.

"Well, I… I'm really… really sad to hear this news too, Kurt, so I can only imagine how you-"

"-I know. I think… I think I'm old enough now to understand just how many people I care about will be hurt by this death." Kurt paused to take a deep breath and wipe away a few of his tears. "Like… my dad was heartbroken when my mom died, but… but I just… I only missed who my dad was when he was happy. I didn't… I didn't have this… this empathy that I have now."

"That makes sense," Blaine replied softly.

"I… I keep thinking about Rachel, and Carole, and Mr. Schue… and gosh everyone who will hurt the way I do right now, even you, I know you liked Finn… and it just makes everything hurt more, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. I… I really… I didn't just like Finn," Blaine quietly told his fiancé, hoping Kurt would understand. Kurt did.

"You loved him. We all did! I know we did."

Kurt continued to quietly cry, sitting still on the step, and Blaine waited on the line for a minute or two before he broke the silence.

"I wish I could hug you right now," he said desperately. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"At least I have friends as roommates," Kurt replied. "I'm not completely alone over here in New York. Actually… guess what?"

"What?"

"Santana is actually being nice to me for once."

"That's great."

"It's surreal, that's what it is. It doesn't feel…" He trailed off. Normal? Yeah. That's what he had been going to say. But… but nothing felt normal right now. Nor should it. Nothing was normal. Finn… Finn was dead.

"Well..." Blaine hesitantly started to reply. "I mean… I'm glad she's being nice. You… you deserve that right now."

Kurt didn't know what to say to that.

"I better prepare to tell Rachel the news. She might be awake now," Kurt commented.

"Okay. Good luck. I… Kurt… before we hang up, I just want you to know, I'm so sorry. And… and I'm here if you need me."

"I know you are. Thank you. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Kurt used his free hand to push himself up off the ground. He had stopped crying. He wiped any remaining tears off of his face and took a few steadying breaths. He was ready now. He could do it. He could break this tragic news to Rachel.

Author's Note: Remember, this was the 3rd oneshot in a series called To Have Loved and Lost. Please do not add this story to your story alerts, but rather subscribe to this series on AO3 or add me to your author's alerts over here. I will be posting a new, separate oneshot as installment #4 sometime relatively soon. I hope you will stick with me to read it too.