Pride

Summary: All Finn ever wanted was to make his mother proud. Well, he certainly screwed that up. Missing Scene for 'Theatricality'; Finn tells Carole why they can't move in with the Hummels anymore and finds out something shocking about the namesake his mother never talks about.

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy. My name is not Ryan Murphy; therefore I do not own Glee.

A/N: No worries to all those who've been reading 'Invisible'. I'm still working on it and I'm going to update another chapter within the next couple of days (I updated yesterday anyways so you know I haven't given up or forgotten it). This is just a story that popped into my head and it was distracting me so I wrote it during my breaks at work so that I could focus on 'Invisible' once I got home.

This story has had so many titles during the time I was writing it. It started out being called 'Disappointed' and then it changed to 'Namesake'. Now however it's called 'Pride' and I'm actually kind of proud of it. Please enjoy and if you have the time or inclination, review!


He fidgeted with his cell phone as he paced back and forth. His mother would be getting off her shift as a nurse at the hospital any minute.

Their original plan was to meet back up at their 'old' house and move over the furniture in addition to the rest of their possessions. That wouldn't be happening, not anymore.

He knew without a doubt that the moment her shift was over and she turned on her cell phone that she'd be getting a very angry phone call from her boyfriend: Kurt's father.

He had to get to her before he did.

He picked up the phone and dialled Kurt's home number, knowing that no matter who picked up that it was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

"Hello," a gruff voice answered.

It was who he called to talk to, but now that he was faced with Burt's voice Finn had to bite back a nervous sound. "Um, hi Mr. Hummel," he decided considering their last conversation that he should be somewhat formal, "It's Finn."

There was a low growl on the other side of the phone, "What do you want?"

"Um," he bit his lip and continued pacing, his eyes watching the clock as he babbled, "I know you're going to tell my mom about what I said and how I'm not welcome at your place anymore, but," he paused nervously, "I just called to ask, well to beg really, that you don't tell her and um- let me do it."

"Why the hell would you want to do that?" Burt asked him, his voice sounding angry but there was a slight hint of surprise Finn detected hidden behind it.

Finn ran a hand through his hair anxiously as he explained in a quiet, miserable voice, "I-I just think it's better if I tell her. I'm the one who screwed up and- and she should get to hear it from me first. You can still tell her and all about what you heard- I just- she's going to be so freaking hurt and I thought that maybe it would hurt less if I told her first."

There was a long silence on Burt's end and he worried for a moment that he hadn't made it clear what he was trying to say. Everyone, including Rachel, Quinn and even Puck, had often told him that he wasn't very articulate... and usually they then had to explain what articulate meant. He wanted Burt to hear how ashamed he was of himself for saying that word and he wanted to make up for that somehow.

He had to make him understand that is was his unfortunate duty to tell his mother what happened. She didn't deserve to have to hear it from Burt. Finn knew he deserved to have to suffer through telling her himself.

"Let's get something straight here first Finn," Burt's voice was hard, "I will tell your mother everything, so do not use the opportunity I'm giving you to do the right thing as a way to make yourself less at fault or to hide anything, do you hear me?"

Finn nodded his head then remembered that Burt couldn't see him, "I - Yes. Of course, Mr. Hummel; I swear I'm not trying to do that. I just want her to hear it from me first, you know?"

"Right," the man's voice was still hard, but it softened, only slightly after a moment, "You're still allowed to call me Burt."

"Okay… Burt," he paused for a second and spoke again, "Um, I also wanted to tell you how sorry I-"

"Save it." Burt cut him off, his voice suddenly hard again. "You can apologize to me after you've apologized to my son and told your mother. Once I've spoken to them, that's when I'll decide whether you're sorry or not, understand?"

"Yes Sir, Burt," he said resignedly. It was obvious that his new father-type figure was way too angry to hear an apology at the moment. He didn't blame him for that. He deserved it. "Thanks, um, for letting me be the one to tell my mom."

"I'm not doing it for you," Burt growled at him, "I'm doing it for Carole." He listened as there was a slight pause of static over the phone, "I'll be calling at seven o'clock. You have until then. Goodbye Finn."

"Goodbye," he whispered back as the dial tone sounded in his ear.


His fingers tapped on the kitchen table as his eyes looked at the expectant look on his mother's face. He bowed his head. How was he supposed to tell her what he'd done? He knew he had to; if someone else did (namely Burt) it would be so much worse. Burt would tell her too when he called later, so he had to and he had to do it now.

He was ashamed of himself and soon his mother would be too.

God he'd been trying so hard to make her proud of him; to be a man worthy of being a war hero's son… to be a man worthy of being her son.

"Sweetheart," his head snapped up at his mother's soft words, "What did you want to tell me?"

Finn slumped where he sat, burying his head in his arms. "I can't."

He heard the sounds of a chair being pulled opposite him and felt a hand press gently on his arm, "Finn honey, you said you needed to tell me something." Her voice was quiet and soft, "You can't tell me you need to tell me something and then not tell me."

"You'll hate me," he groaned, lifting his head slightly, locking his eyes on hers. He knew that wasn't quite true. His mother would never hate him, but she could be disappointed and that seemed so much worse. He could handle it if she got mad. He could not handle the hurt that would be in her eyes when she heard what he had to tell her.

"I'll never hate you Sweetie," she raised a hand and put it gently on his cheek, raising his head a little. She looked so worried and it made Finn let out another groan.

She was actually worried about him, like someone had done something horrible to him, when it was him who'd done something horrible.

"Mom, I did something bad," he whispered in a quiet voice and watched as his mother's hand slowly fell from his face.

"Whatever you did, baby," she said in a careful voice, "It can't be that bad. I know you Finn. You're my son and you'd never do anything to hurt anyone."

She was so wrong.

"Mom, but I did," he lowered his head again. "At school I used to bully Kurt. I mean I didn't like it or anything and I tried to keep the guys from going overboard or whatever, but I still did it."

Her face fell at the admission. Great, now there was even more reason for her to be disappointed in him. He definitely hadn't meant to tell her quite that much. Finn saw her swallow before she opened her mouth. "Used to," she said in a quiet voice, "but you don't anymore, right?"

He shook his head, "No way, but I still- Mom I still did something awful and – well we're not going to be able to move in with Burt anymore. I'm not welcome at their house… Burt- he's got a good reason."

That got her attention. Her head tilted upward and she frowned, "Why not? Just what did you do Finn?"

"Kurt redecorated our room and it was all feminine and stuff and well… I'm a guy, you know?" He explained in a rush, trying his best to pre-emptively defend himself his actions. Despite that, as he heard the words coming out of his mouth, he knew he was just digging himself into a deeper hole. He sounded so ignorant and even he knew it, but he couldn't help himself from continuing, "Plus I kind of know he liked me, or used to. I'm pretty sure he doesn't now." He shook his head and was surprised to find tears pricking at his eyes, "I just got mad."

"Dear God Finn," his mother exclaimed softly, "Please tell me you did not hit Kurt."

Finn shook his head sadly, his shoulders slumping downward, "I hurt him Mom, but not like that."

Carole Hudson stared at her son, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't she simply spoke his name expectantly, "Finn," already sounding disappointed despite that she didn't even know yet what he had done.

"I wasn't even talking about him," Finn told her, his voice sounding as miserable as he felt. "I was talking about the blanket, but Burt- he said that because I said it in his house, in front of Kurt that I was saying it about him. I- maybe he's right and I was saying it about him, but I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't mean it. Mom, I swear I was just mad."

His mother looked almost frightened to hear what he had to say next, "Finn, what exactly did you say?"

He lowered his voice and whispered the word so quietly that he almost didn't ear himself say it, "Faggy."

"I didn't hear that Sweetie."

He whispered the word a little louder, struggling through his shame as heat filled his cheeks to let out the word that had slipped so easily through his lips earlier that day, "Faggy."

He watched as her mouth slowly dropped open, "No."

He didn't blame her. He wished he could deny it happened to, expect he couldn't. The words had fallen from his mouth. He'd been there.

He lowered his eyes, unable to look at her hurt face any longer, "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I told you," Finn mumbled, knowing his only excuse was awful and barely an excuse at all, "He liked me. It made me uncomfortable and he wouldn't stop and I just got mad."

"Wouldn't stop what exactly; liking you?" He hated hearing the slight bitterness in her tone. Bitterness was not a tone he was used to hearing slipping from his mother's lips and it was his fault that it was there. It was enough to give him a bitter taste in his mouth too, if he hadn't already had one since Burt had walked in on the words he'd yelled at Kurt.

"Yeah," he told her softly, his eyes following the patterns on the battered wooden table, "and acting all flirty and stuff." God he sounded pathetic and he knew it. He didn't even know why he bothered with all the excuses when even he couldn't really believe them anymore.

They had been the reason he'd snapped, but now that he looked back at them and heard them coming from his mouth he could hear just how stupid they sounded.

His mother looked at him seriously with watery eyes, "Did he know you knew about him liking you?"

That caught him off guard. Of all the questions he'd expected, that was not one of them. "Well, I think so, yeah," he shrugged his shoulders slightly. He'd assumed Kurt knew he knew, but he'd never actually checked.

"What do you mean you think so?" He was taken aback slightly by the anger in her voice. "Did you tell him you knew? Did you ask him to stop 'being flirty'?"

He hunched his shoulders slightly and swallowed the lump in his throat, "Well no, but-"

"But what; Finnegan Christopher Hudson?" He winced as she cut him off using his full name. "How can you blame him for something like that when you didn't ask him to stop? How was he supposed to know it was making you uncomfortable if you didn't tell him?"

"I didn't think I had to," he mumbled, "I'm straight Mom. He knows that."

"And I'm sure there was a time when Kurt tried to convince himself he was straight too," she took a deep breath to calm herself down. "I'm not trying to imply anything Finn. I'm just trying to make you see where he's coming from. It's possible that Kurt thought you just weren't able to admit it yet. You should have told him straight out you weren't interested the moment you figured it out and left it at that."

Finn could have smacked himself. Of course when she said it everything made perfect sense. He just hadn't thought of actually talking to Kurt. "I thought if I ignored it, it would just go away," he mumbled, thoroughly embarrassed.

His mother let out a frustrated sigh, "I'm so disappointed in you," she told him in a soft voice. "I can only imagine what your father would think right now."

"Mom," his voice was merely a whisper. She'd said the words that never failed to make him want to slam his head against a wall. He wanted to make her proud, not disappointed in him.

His mother let out another quiet sigh, "I think it's time I tell you about your Uncle Finn."

Finn looked up suddenly. His mother never talked about his namesake, her older brother. It was weird that she'd bring him up now, "Why?"

"You know he died when I was a teenager, right?" She asked him in a tired voice.

"Yeah," he mumbled after a moment, "That's pretty much all you told me, other than I'm named after him."

"You know how I told you my father died before you were born?"

Finn furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. Now he was really confused. His mom was changing subjects way too quickly. He just hoped they were somehow tied together; other than by the fact they were both losses she'd suffered before his birth, "Yeah."

"I lied," she told him in a soft voice, "My parent's divorced after Finn died. Your grandfather lives in Carmel, actually, but we don't talk. To me, he really is dead, do you know why?"

He certainly hoped this conversation didn't end with him being dead to her too.

He shook his head. He could hardly imagine his mother disowning anyone (although part of that was the fervent hope she wasn't about to disown him), let alone her own father (or her son, please not her son).

He was so surprised that he couldn't even make himself angry that she'd been lying to him his whole life. That and he was too busy hoping she still loved him to be angry.

"If it wasn't for him, my only brother, who I hero-worshipped, would still be alive," she told him as a few tears slipped down her cheeks.

He stood up immediately and circled the table to sit next to his mother and wrapped his arms around her as she continued.

"Finn, my brother was gay," Carole explained to her son sadly, "and when he was eighteen and I was fourteen he came out to our family."

Finn felt his body freeze and his heart clench in his chest. He hadn't been expecting that. His mother must really hate him and the awful slurs he'd thrown around like they were nothing, he thought sadly. He almost expected her to pull away from him, but instead she leaned into his embrace.

"My father called my brother a fag. He said that Finn was no son of his and a few hours later I found out Finn had killed himself. My mother found him hanging from the ceiling in the garage. He'd used an extension cord. He just- he couldn't take that my father couldn't love him anymore. My father's ignorance and hatred killed my brother."

"Mom," he squeezed her tightly as more tears slipped down and she started sobbing. "I'm so, so sorry. I'm not like him, I promise. I don't hate Kurt. He's my friend… or at least he was until I messed it all up. Please don't hate me like you hate Grandpa. Mom, please."

"I don't hate you Finn," she told him softly, still crying. "I could never hate you. You look so much like him and I know you're different. At- at least you know it was wrong. I just- I need you to understand."

"I do now," he spoke in earnest and was surprised to feel wetness on his own cheeks. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"It's not me you need to make it up to," she reminded him firmly, "its Kurt."

Finn nodded his head miserably, "I know." He looked at her, his eyes shining with sincerity as he told her fiercely, "I'm going to make you proud Mom. I'm going to make you as proud as I am that you named me after someone as special to you as Uncle Finn, I promise. I won't be like Grandpa."

His mother didn't speak, only hugged him in what he hoped was pride at his epiphany. He knew that it was much more likely that she was just grateful that he'd realized his mistake in a way her father never had. There was nothing for her to be proud of yet, but there would be. He would make sure of it.

Finn knew without a doubt he had to apologize to Kurt. Kurt needed to forgive him, and not just so his mother could be proud of him again. He needed Kurt to forgive him because he would never forgive himself if Kurt did something like his namesake had.

He cared about Kurt. He just wasn't very good at showing it; any affection that wasn't from a female made him a little uncomfortable (sometimes even when it was from a female; like the way he'd felt before he'd come to terms with his feelings for Rachel) but his discomfort always seemed to increase when said affection came from someone like Kurt.

He winced at his own thoughts. He was being ignorant again and he knew it. Kurt was just like other guys, minus that he liked musicals and fashion and well… other boys.

He did care about Kurt, just not the way Kurt had wanted him to. He cared about the other boy as a friend, or maybe a brother.

That was it. Kurt was like his very gay little brother; his very gay little brother that he'd viciously hurt with his words. He wouldn't be able to handle it if he lost him.

He wondered if he hadn't lost him already. He had a strong feeling Kurt would never kill himself (though one could never be too sure), unlike his uncle, Kurt's father supported and loved him. Burt would never disown Kurt or call him something as nasty as 'fag'. No, Finn was the one who'd done that.

He just felt that maybe he'd already lost Kurt's friendship and maybe even the possibility of them ever becoming brothers. For all he knew he'd screwed up his mother and Burt's relationship beyond repair, although he hoped he hadn't. All he really knew, was like his mother's pride, he'd do anything to get Kurt's friendship back.

He just wasn't sure how to go about it.

Finn Hudson knew he was ignorant and did stupid shit sometimes, but he was smart enough at least, to know he needed to educate himself. Maybe that was the first step.

It was really the only way he could think of to fix this.

He felt a tiny shred of pride in himself that unlike his grandfather he knew when he messed up and was willing to fix it.

He wrapped his arms tighter around his mother as the thoughts swirled in his head. He knew Puck was trying to convince Quinn he was good enough to be a father; maybe he and his former best friend could work together. Puck could convince Quinn he was a suitable father and at the same time maybe Finn could convince Kurt he was a suitable brother… or at the very least a very apologetic friend.

He knew he'd be proud to be able to call Kurt his brother one day. Now he just had to make Kurt feel the same way.


A/N: This story is dedicated to two people. The first is my cousin who I lost when I was fourteen when she committed suicide. She wasn't gay, but it was a lack of acceptance (not from her family) that led to her death. The second dedication is to my good friend who is gay. I know his father and sisters accept him fully, but I just wish that the rest of the world could too. He really is a very special person.