Kurt opened the car door and held out his hand for the passengers inside. First, a pale, slender hand with a delicate diamond ring slipped into his awaiting hand. He gave a small, sad smile to the widow as she quickly swiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Thank you," she squeaked, barely holding her composure.

Kurt squeezed her hand. "We're going to get through this, somehow."

The soprano looked at up at him with wet brown eyes. "This must be really difficult for you. He-he-"

"Wouldn't want us to be sad. If he was here, he'd want us all to go to Breadstix, or eat a pizza, or go to a football game. Don't worry about me." He squeezed her hands again.

"Mommy? What's going on?" a tiny voice piped from the black car. "Are we at the park?"

The widow closed her eyes and took a ragged breath. When she opened them, she silently pleaded for him to explain.

"No, Babs, we're not at the park," he smiled over to the four year old as her mother stepped aside. He let go of one of the widow's hands. "But I'll take you there later if you still want to go."

The girl nodded in return, overcome by the sudden need to be quiet.

Kurt turned back to his sister-in-law. "We need to head over to the gravesite."

The widow nodded.

Kurt squeezed her hand again and pressed a kiss to her cheek before lowering the black mesh veil. "We're going to be okay. I won't let go, ever."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise, Rachel."

She pulled him into a hug. "You are the absolute best friend a girl could ask for. And you're an amazing brother-in-law."

He would have waited until she pulled away, but there was a very insistent little girl pulling at his designer pants. "Take my hand, Babs."

The little girl shook her head and reached up.

"No, honey," Rachel said.

Without a sound, Kurt let go of his sister-in-law's hand before quickly scooping his niece up and setting her on his hip. He grabbed Rachel's hand again and, with a reassuring squeeze, led her to the gravesite to join their family.

The congregation was larger than Kurt expected it to be. It seemed like everyone from the old Glee club had flown in from all over the country, as well as some friends from New York. Sometime during the eulogy, Kurt's hand had slipped around Rachel's waist as she turned to bury herself deep into his shoulder. Barbara had fallen asleep, her head resting in the crook between his shoulder and neck and her thumb in her mouth. Kurt didn't have the heart to pull the comfort out of her mouth. Burt's hand had landed on Kurt's head at one point as Carole openly cried into her husband's chest. When the preacher was finished, friends and family were invited to speak. Words of love and encouragement flitted throughKurt's ears. Funny high school stories were shared by teary-eyed ex-football players. Work stories were shared by the firemen who came out to see their comrade set into his final resting place. When it seemed as if everyone had said their piece, Rachel stepped forward.

"Thank you all for coming out today…and for supporting me and my family through this hardship. Some of you, I saw just a few days ago- others, I have not seen for years. Finn was many things in his life: He was a loving father, a doting husband, a son, a brother, a loyal friend, a football player, a sports fanatic, and a lead singer in a highschool choir, just to name a few…But, most of all, he was a hero through and through- whether he was rescuing me from a flat tire in the middle of a bad neighborhood, or saving strangers from a blazing inferno. He was always there…" she trailed off with a shaky breath.

Kurt stepped up and took her hand.

She gave him a small appreciative smile. "I would like to announce some bittersweet news. Before arriving at the cemetery, I got a call from the Fire Chief. It seems that Finn's final act of heroism has put him on the short list to earning the James Gordon Bennett Medal."

A collective gasp and small cheer from the firefighters erupted before quickly dying down.

Rachel nodded. "And now, I invite everyone to the Hummel-Hudson house for light snacks and refreshments."

As Kurt made his way back to the car, a voice from long ago stopped him. Rachel gave him a confused look.

"Do you want me to stay?" she asked quietly as the voice grew louder.

"No, I should be fine," Kurt swallowed. "Go, everyone will be waiting for you."

Rachel stretched out her arms for her daughter.

Kurt shook his head. "No, if we wake her up now, we'll never get her back to sleep. Go, I'll catch up in a few minutes."

"I'll see you in a bit, then," she replied, turning on her heel.

Kurt watched her go, sucking in a steely breath before turning around to face the man he had not seen or spoken to in a decade. "Hello, Blaine."

"Hi," he breathed out. The lead singer looked good in his Armani suit. His hair was slicked down with some product, but was no longer encased in a shell as it had been in his schooldays. His brows had gotten thicker over the years and his orbital bones were more prominent. His jaw had gotten slightly longer and more angular over the years. He was clean-shaven, but a hint of stubble was beginning to grow on his face. His eyes, though, were just as warm and beautiful as Kurt remembered them.

"Why are you?"

"I saw the news and came to pay my final respects. H- he was my friend, too, you know."

Kurt nodded, remembering all the football games his boyfriend and step-brother would watch together. His niece was getting heavy in his arms and he wanted to run, but he had to remain polite.

"She's beautiful," Blaine said, nodding to the small girl in his arms. A brief look of pain flashed over his face.

"Thank you, but she's not mine."

"Oh, so you're not-"

"No, my work keeps me too busy to date. You?"

Blaine shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets. After a beat, he looked up. "I'm sorry, this is really awkward. I shouldn't have come. We left on such bad terms…and this is not the place…God, I'm so sorry…I'll just go-" he mumbled, turning to leave.

"No! Wait!" Kurt didn't know where the words came from. "Come to the house. You can tell me all about Stanford."

Blaine cracked a smile. "Only if you tell me all about NYU."

For the first time in a week, Kurt didn't force a smile. "It's a deal."