Yes, I'm alive! It feels so good to put up a new fic after so long, lemme tell ya! Has anyone seen the "Soul Sister" clip? Everyone clearly had different things going on in their minds, even if we didn't get to see a close up of everyone. Overall, I think Will's was the one that worried me the most. Is he sad? Angry? Disappointed? Personally, I'd be a little upset if he was mad at Kurt. No one should begrudge him for leaving.
So, here's a little peak inside everyone's heads (hope I'm not jumping the gun here). All pairings are canon. Slight language, but nothing worse than that. Enjoy!
And, of course I don't own Glee! It belongs to the undeniable brilliance of Ryan Murphy!
Rachel Berry wasn't the kind of person to regret much. Years ago, she'd promised herself she would never regret her actions, whatever they were. She'd feel sorry, maybe disappointed; but all actions led to something, good or bad, and she'd take whatever was thrown at her with grace. But now, as she watched Kurt singing with that other team, she recognized the sickly feeling growing in the pit of her stomach; regret. Kurt was many things; he was obnoxious, self-centered, controlling, underhanded, and at times a downright bitch.
Frankly, he reminded her of herself. A gay, male, countertenor version of herself. As much as she hated the idea of it, Kurt had as much potential as she did (though she'd never tell him that; couldn't stroke the boy's ego too much!). And it irritated her to no end. Or at least it had.
When did they stop being such rivals? When did that jealous monster in her chest stop roaring up when she heard him sing? And when did his insults stop being so stinging, verging more on playful? When did teasing each other become second nature? Your elementary school teacher called, Berry, she wants her sweater back? ... Has all that cheap hairspray finally rotted away whatever brain you had to begin with? …
Probably when she saw him standing there by his locker, after the duet competition, looking so damn lonely. Because loneliness is something Rachel had been very familiar with, before she had Finn. And now that Burt and Carole were married, having Finn meant having Kurt. Someday, when she was twenty-five and a Tony-award winning Broadway actress, she and Finn would get married and have two children (Xavier and Amanda), and they'd live in New York... but now her thoughts were getting ahead of her.
What was important now, though, was that her future brother-in-law had needed her help; had been needing it for quite some time, and she hadn't given it. If anything was worth regretting, that certainly was. The least she could do was smile and encourage him to sing his heart out, even if it wasn't with them.
Rachel Berry had failed Kurt Hummel, and that was all that mattered.
Finn Hudson wouldn't have pegged himself as someone who could be able to look past Kurt's... eccentricities. Kurt was pushy, manipulative, rude, and has practically stalked him the year before. But Finn had always been too big-hearted (and naïve) to hold a grudge against that frail, puppy-faced, lonely boy. It had taken time before he could be totally comfortable around Kurt, but he'd done it. Finn may have been a lot of things, but a quitter wasn't one of them.
When Burt and Carole had announced their engagement, Finn had started immediately thinking about all the things that were going to change. New house, new family, new brother... until he realized Kurt had already become his brother, long before that diamond ring even entered the picture. Because, what, exactly, made a brother?
Someone you could talk to.
Someone who helped you with homework.
Someone you watched movies with (even if he was pretty sure Wicked didn't quite count as a movie... not that he'd ever tell Kurt that)
Someone who you could flop down on the couch next to and just flat-out bitch about how much your day had sucked.
Someone who always had your back. Always.
And with a sinking feeling, Finn realized that Kurt had been a brother to him, but he hadn't been a brother to Kurt. He'd let his need to be popular, the stupid high school standard of 'cool' keep him from protecting Kurt. Finn welcomed the guilt that washed over him as he watched the Warblers up on stage, forcing a smile to assure no one that he was mad. Because he could never be mad at Kurt.
Kurt, who was always waking him on Saturdays with a loud shower performance of "Out Tonight".
Kurt, who criticized his entire wardrobe ruthlessly on a daily basis.
Kurt, who would make gagging noises every time he had to endure watching Finn and Rachel have couple-y moments, but later gave him tips on girl-stuff that would keep her happy.
His little brother had needed him, and all that mattered now was that he hadn't done a damn thing about it.
Mercedes Jones could read Kurt like the back of her hand. That facade he put up- the cold, harsh, prickly diva exterior- didn't faze her. She had, and always would, be able to see right through the design clothes and sharp tongue he wrapped himself up in, and see the scared little boy underneath. The little boy who just wanted to be accepted in a world that hated him. The little boy who wanted to be loved.
Before Kurt had come along, Mercedes didn't believe in the "BFF". A friend who was always there for you, who you could have sleepovers with where you did each others makeup and giggled over boys? BFFs only existed in movies, as far as she was concerned. Then, she ran into Kurt.
Literally, they ran right into each other, in their haste to get to class on the first day of the year. Their books had flown everywhere in a rather impressive display of hallway-carnage that hadn't been beaten since. Stunned from the collision, it took Mercedes a moment to realize that the high-pitched voice currently bitching at her was coming from the boy she was practically sitting on. Blushing more than she had at her cousin's wedding (the one where she knocked the groom smack-dab into the wedding cake) she'd hastily gotten up and immediately started trying to separate the mess in front of her.
It turned out the two of them were actually headed to the same class, and they ended up bonding, despite having gotten off to a rather rocky start. Glee only further strengthened that bond. And then Mercedes learned that the mythical BFF was real after all.
Sleepovers?
Shopping trips?
Hushed giggling over boys? Yeah, they did all of that and more.
And now, she couldn't help but wonder; how come she didn't notice that things had gotten so bad? Kurt was her boy, and he'd been struggling with this all by himself for how long? When had dumpster-dives and Slushies, things that were wrong but manageable, turn into death threats? And what would have happened had those threats been carried out? Mercedes couldn't bear to think about it.
It didn't matter now that Kurt was up on that stage, singing with the competition. All that mattered was he was safe and, she hoped to God, happy. Loving someone meant making sacrifices. So she smiled, and encouraged him to show off his talent for all the world to see (or at least for Lima, for now).
Because Mercedes loved Kurt, the stupid little bitch, and all that mattered now was that at Dalton, he was far away from the jocks that wished him harm.
Quinn Fabray never would've pictured herself as the motherly type. Certainly not the teen-mother. She knew she'd screwed up, and while that was by far not the best chapter in the story of her life, Quinn wasn't entirely sure she'd want it deleted, either. Only half watching the stage, as someone announced the next performance, she allowed her attention to draw back into herself.
What if she hadn't let her feelings (and the alcohol) get the best of her that night, and kept Puck's manhood far away from her pants? Simple question, simple answer.
No sex meant no baby... which meant Coach wouldn't have kicked her off the squad... which meant she and Finn would've stayed together... which meant Quinn would have remained the HBIC of McKinley High, far above in the social ladder than those Glee losers.
Which all added up to never becoming friends with Kurt Hummel in the first place.
Actually, Quinn had become friends with Mercedes first, but after the loud, friendly girl took her in, Kurt had become her friend too. Thinking back to all she knew about the boy, Quinn realized this was no small feat. Loving someone involved trusting them; letting Sam into her heart had taught her that. And Kurt didn't trust many people. You didn't get his trust easily; you earned it, painstakingly and slowly, but in the end, it was worth every second. Now, Quinn counted herself as one of the lucky few the small soprano trusted completely.
Or at least, she had.
How had she missed the fact that Kurt was in trouble? Why was man-hands, who Kurt didn't even particularly like, the first notice how much he needed them? Of all people, it was Quinn who should've noticed.
Because Kurt may be Mercedes' boy, and Finn's brother, but he was Quinn's baby.
Kurt acted all high-and-mighty, like it didn't matter that he didn't have a mother.
No, she'd dead, this is her son... no, she's dead... no, she'd dead...
The words bounced around in her skull angrily. The indifference with which he'd said it, the pure lack of emotion. The emptiness in his voice spoke more than words ever could. That same emptiness he had when he spoke of the daily torments he went through, like it didn't matter. Of course it mattered; how could she have let him think otherwise? All those times she saw him, arms wrapped tightly around himself, trying to keep from shattering into a million pieces. There were countless things she could have- should have- said. It's okay, baby, it's okay. You don't have to worry about anything anymore, mommy's here... mommy's here...
Shaking her head viciously to clear away her thoughts, Quinn paused when she felt Sam's hand on her shoulder gently. She looked over at him, opening her mouth to make some excuse; but the look in Sam's eyes explained it all.
With a little sigh, she held out her hand, and Sam obliged, reaching his own out and interlacing her dainty fingers with his calloused ones. He squeezed her hand gently, reassuringly, before turning his eyes back to the stage. There was an ache in her chest, one she hadn't felt since she'd held Beth for the first and last time, as she returned her attention back to the stage too.
Her baby was up on stage, singing, and all that mattered was that from now on, his mommy was going to be there for him; always.
As much as Artie Abrams wanted to be mad as he watched that Blaine kid up on stage with Kurt- who should have been with them, singing that solo Mr Schue had been so excited to give him- but couldn't find it within himself to be mad at the other boy. Artie just wasn't the kind of person who could stay mad at people for long. Bitter, maybe, a little sore, sure, but never angry. Truth be told, the amount of time he stayed mad depended on the person that anger was directed at. With Brittany it was a pretty temporary feeling; more a deep sadness and a sense of betrayal than anger. With Tina... well, that was a whole other can of worms that he didn't feel like opening right now.
But Kurt... Artie could never be mad at Kurt, not for a minute, not even a second. If he'd told the other boy about his anger-evading talents, the fashionista would have laughed and claimed it was his irresistible charm. That wasn't it, though. It was the fact that underneath all those ridiculous designer clothes, Artie always got the sense that Kurt was... broken, in a way.
Broken, from the constant tormenting by jocks.
Broken, from the way people just turned their heads.
Broken, from the teacher's who knew, and didn't do a damn thing.
And even more broken from those that were too clueless to know in the first place.
Now that, if anything, was worth getting angry over. Artie had been there; being ignored and bullied because he was different, for something he couldn't control. The jocks bullied him, the girls loved him, and the guys just passed right by.
Kurt was, perhaps, the first boy to treat him like "one of the guys" (although, considering the gay boy was their honorary girl, Artie wasn't quite sure how that worked in the first place...). He'd been the first to slow down while walking down the hallways, just because he liked talking to him. That small act said a lot. Most people would have gotten tired of waiting for the wheelchair-bound boy to catch up. But Kurt didn't. Maybe it was because he knew what it was like to be different. Geeks and freaks had to stick together, after all.
Would he have been happier in a school with kids like him- paraplegics, cripples, and the like? Artie had often pondered that question, after learning that there were in fact schools like that somewhere (putting aside the fact that "somewhere" wasn't in Lima). And every time, the answer was always no. Because no matter how different he was, he was happy here.
Clearly, though, Kurt didn't feel the same. He was obviously happy in the choir room, their safe-haven from the evils of the rest of the school. But that didn't matter if he was terrified the rest of the school day. Artie looked up at the boys performing on stage, in their neat uniforms that screamed "private school". Was he happy now, now that he was far away from the McKinley jocks? If that answer was yes, then it didn't matter how the rest of New Directions felt.
The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one... what a load of shit.
As long as Kurt was happy, that was all that mattered to Artie.
Tina Cohen-Chang didn't dress in black because she was into all that self-harm shit or had a weird vampire-fetish. She just liked black. She liked the way black fabric folded against itself; the see-through quality of black mesh; the way black sequins reflected a hue of different colors; the complex designs woven in black lace. Tina was also partial to other colors, like red or purple, and of course, blue. So, why didn't people get that? The surprised looks on people's faces when they saw her whole, undamaged wrists annoyed her to no end. Why did there always have to be a reason for her to dress the way she did? She wasn't emo, or a cutter, or anything like that. Black was just her thing. Tina's parents just said she was going through a phase; and so what if she was? Couldn't she just enjoy it while it lasted?
Adults never seemed to get how important clothes really were. Clothes were always more than vanity or a way of rebelling, for Tina (although fighting her parent's traditional household was fun, sometimes). They were about expressing who you were. And if black, over-the-top clothes meant she was over-the-top? Then Tina was cool with that.
I love wearing champagne bubbles – I get to express a whole different side of myself. Because even though I'm painfully shy and obsessed with death, I'm a really effervescent person.
It felt good to finally know someone who not only didn't question her unique fashion choices, but encouraged them. Kurt nitpicked and plundered, rearranged and swapped, added and subtracted, changing around her clothes, sometimes to her specifications and other times to his own fashion-whims. Summer days spent in his basement, surrounded by clothing and fashion magazines, the air conditioning turned up and Gaga blasting. Just the four of them; Tina, Mercedes, Quinn, and Kurt, the Glee girls. Sometimes Brittany was there too, and wherever Britt went, so did Santana. Rachel was sometimes allowed too, though less because she wanted to play their teenage version of dress-up and more because she liked feeling included (and Finn was just upstairs... that helped too). Cutting and sewing, piecing together outfits based off Frankenstein designs put together from Vogue and their own heads, till her wardrobe bordered on outlandish. That was okay, though. They could be outlandish together.
Watching her friend up on stage, Tina wrinkled her nose at the navy and crimson uniforms the Warblers all wore. Bo-ring... She hoped Kurt was still strutting his style outside of school, and not turning into someone who wore what everyone else wore. Kurt Hummel didn't dress like the crowd; he was born to stand out, and everyone knew it.
No matter where he went, to Tina, Kurt would still be their fabulous, honorary girl; and that was all that mattered for her.
Noah Puckerman was pissed. At who, he wasn't quite sure, but he was currently busy glaring at the stage like it had personally insulted his mother. And he honestly had no idea why. Sure, it could have been that the lead singer was just a little too smug. Or, it could have been those ridiculous uniforms; even Puck had more fashion sense than to wear your school uniform for a performance. Maybe it was the song; he'd never really liked Train, after all...
Although, if he were to be honest with himself, it was probably the small soprano singing a cappella as if he'd been doing it for years. Puck could barely pick Kurt out of the crowd; they all looked so freakin' identical in those dorky uniforms. Which, that in itself was weird, since Kurt barely wore the same outfit twice, let alone the same outfit as everybody else. And for some reason, that only irritated him even more.
Puck would be the last to admit this, but he, as a person, really had changed. What happened to the bad ass who wouldn't hesitate before throwing the resident queer into the nearest dumpster? Who doled out Slushy facials four or five times a day, like clockwork? Suddenly, pee balloons and lawn furniture-related pranks were a thing of the past. The sophomore-Puck was a thing of the past. And, looking back, junior-Puck realized he wasn't sorry about that. Maybe it took a little while, but eventually he finally got something; being a bad ass doesn't mean you have to be an asshole.
If anyone asked, he'd argue that standing up for Kurt was because the girls would gang up on him if he didn't. But everyone knew, and he knew they knew, he was lying through his teeth. Puck stopped being a bully to Kurt because he finally understood how much it hurt. How those words- fag, queer, fairy- that had rolled off his tongue so carelessly; how deep those words truly cut.
Puck had stopped being a bully ages ago; but in his mind he was still just as bad as Azimio and Karofsky. Because cuts made by words never fully heal.
Kurt was driven away from McKinley by ignorant, hateful people; and now all that mattered to Puck was that he never got the chance to say how sorry he was for having been one of them.
Mike Chang didn't say much, and that made him a good listener. The kind of person that you felt comfortable just talking to, because he'd never interrupt you, or say something mean. It got to the point where people sometimes forgot he even had feelings at all. But of course Mike had feelings; and over the years, he'd become very akin recognizing those of others, and empathizing with them.
As such, Mike had only thrown as many Slushies and tripped as many nerds as was required to keep the rest of his football teammates off his back. He helped with giving Dumpster Dives, but didn't initiated them, and certainly didn't enjoy them. And whenever the fellow jocks decided to lock some kid in the porta-potties, Mike was conveniently never around.
Being in Glee had taught him how unimportant social boundaries were. And eventually, those small acts he'd performed stopped altogether. Because bullying was bullying, no matter how big or small. And once you got to know the victims, became friends with them, a piece of the hodge-podge family that was New Directions, any act of harassment suddenly wasn't worth being "cool".
Now, Kurt was gone. He was up on that stage, singing with another Glee team. Another piece had been ripped away from their family. It was like Matt all over again.
Mike had done the little things, but all that mattered was that he'd never done enough.
Brittany Pierce loved Kurt Hummel. Simple as that. It wasn't like the marrying and having babies kind of love. She just loved him. Things were simple when you were Brittany.
Sex was fun.
Cheerios was fun.
Making out was fun.
Glee was loads of fun.
And Kurt was fun.
Fun to talk to... fun to sing with... fun to play dress up with... fun to make Beyoncé music videos with. And now he wasn't there. Well, he was still here; he was on that stage, not dead. But he wasn't here, in the audience with them, where he belonged. Everyone had tried explaining it, but for the life of her she just couldn't get why Kurt had left them. Had left her.
Things were simple when you were Brittany; all that mattered was that Kurt was up there, and not with them like he should be.
Santana Lopez wanted to punch someone. Or fuck something. Or maybe both (her numerous partners would attest that she could get pretty aggressive in bed). But more than anything, she felt almost like she wanted to cry.
It wasn't that she liked Kurt or anything. But, ever since joining Glee Club, she couldn't deny that it felt nice to be part of something; part of a family. The Cheerios weren't like that; Sue Sylvester was all about teaching her girls to fight for power, to claw their way to the top. In Glee, Santana didn't have to worry about all that bull. She could just have fun; her and Brittany, like it always would be.
Now, Santana was all for keeping the nerds in their place; after all, if someone didn't knock them down every now and then, they started getting ideas, like they were cool. But for someone to actually not feel safe? That was too far. The thought of Kurt, scared and huddled against his locker for protection, or, even worse, being beaten up by jocks... For someone who didn't like the soprano, Santana felt sick just thinking about it. And, despite her protests that she's take on anyone who so much as tried to touch Gay Kid, she knew, deep down, that wouldn't be enough. All anyone talked about now was how fragile he was, how weak; but did they ever consider just how strong he really was?
Santana turned her attention back to the stage, where the Dalton Weenies were performing (or whatever they were called). Was Kurt happy there? Maybe.
The family was broken up, but all that mattered was Kurt was safe now.
Like any teenager, Sam Evans had a few wishes, ranging from probable to a statistic impossibility. First; no dyslexia. It seriously sucked, and made all the teachers think he was either stupid or lazy, no matter how hard he tried. Second; that his parents could have fixed their "issues", instead of getting divorced. Even though he knew that wouldn't happen, it was nice to dream. And third; to have been part of New Directions last year.
There were so many things that happened the year before that no body bothered explaining to him. So many inside jokes that just flew right over his head. It got kind of annoying after a while, to hear laughing, and have his questions met with the usual;
"Oh, it's something from last year; you wouldn't understand."
Couldn't he at least try to understand? What was so wrong with them giving him the benefit of the doubt? Despite being a jock, he really wasn't stupid.
Pot cupcakes?
Wheel-chair drag-races?
Mattress commercials?
Red shower curtains?
Perhaps the most confusing was the infamous Lumberjack Kurt. Whenever someone brought up that particular event, the small soprano would let out a strangled squeak and flush tomato-red. For the life of him, Sam just could never picture Kurt ever trying to fit in. The kid was born to stand out; any half-wit could tell.
The sad, bitter Kurt he's become used to is so different from the one Quinn's told him about; the Kurt who's all big-smiles and mint-chocolate chip ice cream; all Alexander McQueen and diva-offs; all big-talk and even bigger actions. The Kurt who Quinn talks about so fondly, and then makes her smile so sadly. Sam really doesn't like it when she gets that way. There's only two things that make his girlfriend smile like that, like she'd rather cry than laugh: her baby, Beth; and Kurt.
Sam wished he could've met Kurt last year, before... whatever happened to make him the way he is now. Maybe they would have been friends. As much as Sam loved Glee, he still felt like he wasn't quite part of the family. Yet, anyway. He's still working on that; but to be part of that misfit family of geeks, and jocks, and Cheerios... that's worth whatever he has to do to prove his worth. The only problem is that, he's not entirely sure the family's still together. How can they be, when one of them is up on that stage with the other team? If Sam had a wish, it would probably be to have known Kurt before things got the way they are now.
They weren't friends, and now all that mattered was they probably never would be.
For Will Schuester, being a teacher was more than a job; it was a way of life. How could it not be, when so much of your day was spent at school? When it was your job- no, your duty- to be there for those kids, to guide them through their high school-life? Will knew he had made mistakes, but for the most part, he considered himself a pretty good teacher. But, like any teacher, he'd made favorites, as hard as he'd tried other wise. Finn, of course, because Will saw so much of himself in the teen. And Rachel, definitely, for her amazing talent. But that didn't mean he loved the rest of his students any less, especially his Glee kids.
Quinn, because she'd been through so much and had come out for the better.
Puck, because underneath the bad ass front, he knew there was secretly a good kid there.
Tina, because she'd overcome the shyness that had pinned her down for so long.
Artie, because the cosmos had dolled out a million reasons for that boy to hate the world, but he didn't.
Mercedes, because, despite her diva-attitude, she put others before herself.
Brittany, because she was such a sweetheart and always made Will laugh (after he got over the initial shock of some of the more ludicrous things she said).
Santana, because, like Puck, her bad attitude was just a cover for the good person Will knew she would someday become.
Mike, because as quiet as he was, the fire that flared to life in his eyes every time he danced spoke way more than words.
Sam, because he was the new kid, friendly but awkward, and every one knew the feeling.
But Kurt... to be honest, Will hadn't started out really liking Kurt at all. The slim boy was arrogant, sarcastic, disrespectful at times, and incredibly irritating at others. And he was so open. It was like he was inviting hatred. Why couldn't he try more to blend in, like other students? It would just be safer overall.
And then Will realized how wrong he was to expect such things. Kurt should have never felt like he needed to change himself; it was those other people, the homophobes, who needed to change. Yes, Kurt had negative aspects; but who didn't? He was brave, and a good friend underneath all the prickliness. He was smart, and ridiculously talented. There were a hundred other girls with Rachel's talent, and there would always be other boys beside Finn who were like teenaged Will. There were thousands of teenagers all over the world who were outcasts, who felt different, and ignored, and unappreciated.
But there would only ever be one Kurt. And Will had failed him.
Looking around, he recognized the swirling emotions that flittered across his students' faces. Sorrow... anger... guilt... and love. But Will didn't really know what he felt.
There was a reason why he called his students his "kids". What made a parent? Someone who taught their child about the world; who raised them to reach for the stars, to never stop fighting against those who would put them down; someone who helped them find the best within themselves. Will may not have had any biological offspring, but he had the best group of mismatched children in the world; the twelve misfits of New Directions. Yes, even Kurt. Because out of all of them, Kurt needed love most of all. With the world against him even more than the rest of them, for just being born differently, Kurt needed people who saw past all that and loved him for who he was. And it never should have gotten to the point where he ever had to doubt otherwise.
Will's duty was to his children; all twelve of them. So what if Kurt was now with Dalton? So what if he didn't go to McKinley anymore? No matter where Kurt was, he would always be one of Will's kids.
And that's all that matters, in the end.
Reviews make a lovely early Christmas gift. =) I've been a very good little elf this year!