Glee – That Which Breaks
It was a wound that would not heal
Burt knew he was alone in his grief, and he didn't mind it.
Carole was busy trying to keep it together with the weight of a dead husband, and now a dead son on her shoulders, and Kurt was trying not to fall apart form losing a brother and a friend all at once. What was Burt's pain to theirs? He still had his own son, he shouldn't be feeling like the world had stood still for too long a moment when they learned what happened to Finn, and that it should have remained as such.
It wasn't easy to tell himself that, but it was even harder to listen to the empty words.
Truth was, Carole and Kurt took the time, so gentle their hearts were, to make sure Burt was okay in his loss. Finn had been the kind of son he would one day have longed for - tall, strong, kind and athletic -, and they had become very close over the years, so of course he should be feeling his loss, they told him, but their loss was so much greater, he told himself. They were the ones suffering the most, so he should be the one to stand back and watch over them.
Broken heart or not, Burt had always been a good man in a storm, and he wasn't about to stop it, even when the memories of the sweet son he'd acquired when he married Carole flooded his vision and he felt almost like he was having another heart attack, his chest constricted so much. He'd forgotten what it felt like to lose someone he loved, he'd forgotten how absolute the grief could be, how violent it came and how it clawed its way into his heart and remained there, only to come out when he least expected.
Finn had been a good boy, too good, and the world had taken advantage of his brightness, of his honest smiles, of his generosity, and he had fallen too deep into the ugliness of the world, the kind of ugliness that every parent tried to shield their children from, but Finn had not been a child, not to the world, and he go eaten alive.
Some days, Burt wondered about what he would do if he ever caught the one who- Who lured Finn away from the security of a clean, healthy life, what he would do to them. The police had been less than helpful about it, their expressions uninterested and even dismissive, much to Carole's consternation and Kurt's quiet rage. Burt, though, had understood (though hated it all the same). They didn't know Finn, they never would know Finn, and they couldn't possibly care for all the people that fell into a hard life and never came out.
Even cops needed to keep their distance, because Burt was sure that if they felt even a smidge of the pain he was feeling for each dead person that came around, they would never be able to do their jobs, and Burt respected them too much to wish them that.
He didn't voice any of these thoughts to Kurt or Carole, of course, they wouldn't understand it, not really, and would only think him naïve or unfeeling towards what happened to Finn.
If only he could just not feel anything about the whole situation, even a day would be enough.
After the funeral and everything, Burt had a moment to wonder about Finn's glee friends. Glee, the club that saved Kurt, that saved Finn too, in a way, that saved all those lost, uncertain kids, and now they were down one member because of something so horrible and unimaginable. Burt felt for the kids, having lost a long time friend, in some cases a sort of mentor, out of the blue. They were innocent, sheltered kids, all of them, and that Finn's death had touched them was something else he tried to keep to himself.
They were suffering too, and his grief was his to bear.
The worst one was Rachel, dear, high energy, passionate Rachel, who had loved Finn like Burt didn't think he had ever loved anyone. There was a cloud of devastation over the girl that kept her quiet throughout the service, and while she accepted people's hugs and touches and kind words with a barely there nod, Burt could see that her world had crumbled, her world had paused and she was waiting for it to re-start, because staying put meant being stuck in that heart wrenching situation.
Finn's teacher, Mr. Schuester, Mr. Schue, as all the kids fondly called him, came to Carole and Burt wearing a mask of sadness but strength, and Burt admired him for it. It wasn't easy to lose a kid, and Mr. Schue, Will, had built himself a massive family with his Glee kids, and the blow of Finn's sudden demise couldn't have been an easy one. The man remained steady, though, allowing his kids to clutch to him whenever they needed a shoulder to cry on, and Burt felt like he understood the man completely in that moment - he too was being a pillar for the people who loved him and needed him, no matter how broken his heart was.
Burt made a mental note to invite him out for a beer sometime. If anyone else was going to get it, it was Burt.
Life... Continued. The world did, in fact, keep spinning, life awaited no one, not even the grieving. Kurt went back to New York, Carole went back to work, and Burt continued caring for his cars and his wife and son. Son, not sons. That realization took a while to get used to, to having to tell people who didn't known that his former football player, gentle giant of a (step)son was dead. It was like his wife all over again, except Finn was young, so young, and people always commented on it.
He'd been too young.
Some days, it was easy to pretend Finn was somewhere else, maybe in New York with Rachel and Kurt, living a wonderfully enchanted life, or maybe even somewhere in Lima, living a perfectly ordinary but lovely life. Some days, Burt nearly asked Carole if Finn had called lately - and then it hit him. Finn was dead.
Finn was dead.
It took two months, and finally Burt broke down during dinner, and Carole held him tight, and they cried together for the first time since they got the news. It wasn't the first, but after that, Burt realized he didn't need to try to hold Carole (and Kurt) together anymore and let himself fall. Some times, it was okay to let go.
So he did.