Carole loves her son.

They haven't had a perfect life. Hell, they haven't even had a perfect relationship. She raised her son alone, and while being Finn's mother felt from the second he was born like the most natural thing in the world, there was something awful and inhuman and just terribly unfair about being his mother when he didn't have a father. It broke her heart, when he was little, to see him look up at her with those beautiful eyes shining with contentment and trust, not knowing that she was only half of what he deserved – and it broke her heart again when she looked at him one day, years later, and realized that somewhere along the line, he had worked out something was missing. She hated knowing that no matter how much she loved Finn – no matter how much he loved her – she could never fill the void his father left. Mothers could love so fiercely; they were willing martyrs, striving to shelter their children's dreams from the harsh, pricking spears of reality, to protect their kids from fear and doubt. She would do anything for Finn – piss off her boss at the first good job she'd had in years to make a parent teacher conference, spend hours after school helping him understand algebra and geometry because he just didn't grasp those things as fast as other kids did. Get back in a car with him even though she still had nightmares about the mailman he hit going at twenty miles an hour, just so he knew she believed he could get past his fears.

She would die for Finn.

But no matter how hard she tried, she could never be a father for him.

So sometimes, Finn kept secrets from her. When she found him singing to a sonogram that day and worked out that Quinn was pregnant, she knew why he hadn't told her earlier. Boys wanted their mothers to be proud of them. It was to them they went to when they got an A+ on an English essay; when the girl they asked to homecoming accepted their invitation; when they made quarterback.

They went to their fathers for advice about mistakes. Fathers understood that being a man was not about being perfect. But Finn, like every boy, couldn't help but hope even after he learned that lesson that his mother, if no-one else, would still see past his flaws.

She figured it probably made him stronger, having to be the man in the family. By the time he was eight he could pick up a spider with his bare hands to take it outside, when Carole couldn't even look at it without breaking into a sweat; at twelve he could fix anything that went wrong with their car. He shovelled the driveway when it snowed without complaint; and soon he grew so tall that she no longer needed a stepladder or stool to reach things stowed up high in cupboards. She knew he was proud of having so many responsibilities, but oh, she didn't mean to give them to him. No mother would. She wanted Finn to be allowed to be scared of spiders. To revel in the magic and beauty of snow at Christmas instead of resignedly pulling on his gloves and heading outside to spend an hour clearing the concrete with the professionalism and good-natured boredom of a seasoned adult who had long ago forgotten how good snow tasted when you let it hit your tongue instead of the ground, or how every single snowflake, a speck of white to the naked human eye, looked like an ice castle when magnified.

But no matter what he missed out on being brought up by Carole, Finn grew into an amazing young man. He had a wonderful heart; and somehow, despite his maturity in certain aspects of life, he retained a kind of innocence that manifested itself in a smile that seemed disbelieving at how good life could be - and an immaturity that leaked from his pores like water from sprung pipes. He may not be scared of spiders, but he was scared of letting people down. And no matter how many things Finn did for Carole, things only a tall, broad shouldered hulking teenager of a man could do in a house that was beginning to fall apart, there were still some things only Carole could do for him.

Friday night dinners with the Hummels had turned into a nightly ritual now that Carole and Burt were married. It had all happened so suddenly that they hadn't had time to buy a new house for the four of them before the wedding, and so here in their third week of marriage they were still trekking the exciting yet somewhat stressful path towards joint home ownership and a home that both their sons could call their own. Carole's house was still on the market: Burt's, being somewhat newer, bigger and fashionably decorated (thanks to Kurt) had been snapped up almost immediately and so Burt and Kurt had, for now, moved into the Hudson home... until such a time as it was sold too and they bought a new one - together.

And they had learned from their past mistakes. Finn had been told well ahead of time that the move was coming, so he could get adjusted to the idea - and it was Kurt this time who insisted on seperate rooms, genuinely citing Finn's horrible taste in interior design as a reason (because no matter how temporary the arrangement, Kurt could not live in a room plastered from floor to ceiling with cowboy prints. He said he felt like he was in the lair of serial killer, languishing within walls that wore the russet, cowboy-shaped bloodstains of fashions that had been horribly murdered, and just as the doomed future victims of a psychopath became horrifically aware of their impending fate just by looking at the bloodstains of those who passed before them, he could clearly invision the future that would be inevitable if he were forced to sleep in that room; a future filled with plaid and those ridiculous puffy vests Finn sometimes wore. So yeah - Kurt took over the sewing/storage room, and within a week it resembled ).

She was dicing chicken for a stir-fry when Finn got home from school that Friday - not Finn's nor hers favourite meal, but Kurt loved it and it was good for Burt's heart. She kind of loved looking after all these men.

She knew he was home from the sound of his car pulling into the driveway, and waited happily until the sound of the front door swinging open heralded his entrance into the house.

'Hey, sweetie, how was your day?' called Carole over her shoulder. She heard the familiar thud of Finn's schoolbag hitting the floor as he walked through the living room, and waiting expectantly for his clattering footsteps to grow louder as he entered the kitchen, chattering excitedly about the latest Glee assignment or blushing as he told her the latest funny thing Rachel had said that she didn't even realize was funny, 'but she's so awesome, Mom, really.' But the footsteps never came; and instead she heard him bounding upstairs without a word. She narrowed her eyes, half annoyed and half concerned.

'Finn?' she yelled loudly.

Her voice reverberated throughout the house. The silence was such that he must have heard her even from his room, with the door shut. But no response.

Worry started to creep in. Finn may still be a kid in a lot of ways, but he was usually polite, especially to her. Something must have happened at school, or in Glee… she hoped it wasn't something to do with the rivalry between McKinley's New Directions and Dalton's Warblers, because Kurt and Finn had been getting along so well since the wedding…

Just as she made up her mind to go upstairs and ask him what was going on, she heard the muffled jingling of a key being turned in the lock on the front door, and the familiar, sighing creak as it was flung open. Voices spilled into the house like a gust of wind.

'... a canary, Kurt. I swear, the things you kids come up with these days -'

'I didn't come up with it Dad. This warbler is part of an ancient unbroken line that can be traced back to the 1800s. If it dies, I'll probably be flogged.'

'Boy, you're a drama queen sometimes...'

Kurt and Burt emerged around the corner, and Carole smiled, putting down her knife to walk forward and hug her husband.

'Hey, beautiful,' Burt said, waggling his eyebrows as he wrapped his arms around her. Carole heard Kurt snicker in disgust and laughed, pulling away to give her step-son a kiss on the cheek.

'Hello boys. How was school today, Kurt?'

'It was alright,' he shrugged. 'But as soon as I've eaten something that will boost my blood sugar, I'm going upstairs to change. This uniform is stifling me.'

Carole snorted and Burt looked at his son half fondly, half exasperatedly.

'Go ahead, Kurt,' said Carole. Then she remembered. 'But - do you know if anything happened with Finn at school today? He didn't say a word when he got home and he's sitting up in his room by himself...'

To her surprise, Kurt immediately looked uncomfortable.

'Um... well, despite no longer going to McKinley, I am still well informed about the drama. Mercedes has been keeping me updated. She likes to think she's the black, not-anonymous version of Gossip Girl. Which would make me, as the receptant of her posts, one of the well dressed Upper East Siders... I'd like to think of myself as Chuck, but -'

'Kurt!' interrupted Burt, looking bewildered. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

Kurt looked sheepish.

'Sorry. You know how I get with Gossip Girl. What I meant to say is... uh...'

Burt waved his hands, pushing him to continue.

'Finn and Rachel broke up,' said Kurt hurriedly, looking straight at his shoes.

Carole gasped.

It had never occurred to her that Finn might be having girlfriend problems. For one thing, the poor kid had surely fulfilled his quota of romantic troubles for the decade with the whole Babygate drama; but more importantly, he seemed so happy with Rachel. Carole had seen them together at the wedding less than a month ago; and God, they adored each other. They spent almost every second dancing with each other or smiling at each other or, when they weren't actually together, talking about each other - Carole had overheard Rachel singing Finn's praises to Mercedes after his dedication number to Kurt, and she had been glad that her son had finally found a girl who saw the courage and strength in him.

'Finn spent ages getting that choreography right with me,' Rachel had beamed, as Mercedes rolled her eyes but listened good-naturedly. 'I said Kurt would notice the effort he put into formulating a well rounded performance in his honour, being - like myself - a fan of all facets of the performing arts, and Finn agreed, of course. I think he did wonderfully.'

'That wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you're incredibly biased, now would it,' said Mercedes dryly, and Rachel blushed.

'Of course not. Finn doesn't need my bias to be spectacular. He's amazing just the way he is.'

'Oh, no,' said Carole sadly. 'Why on earth did they break up? They seemed so happy!'

'I haven't heard the full story, I just got a text from Mercedes this afternoon. I didn't get a chance to ask for details - Blaine was helping me with my trigonometry excercises and it's kind of intense stuff. I'm not actually sure how much anyone knows...but, uh... here.'

Kurt rummaged in his blazer pocket and quickly pulled out his phone, bringing the message up on the screen and holding it out for Carole to read.

HEY KURT - FINN BROKE UP WITH RACHEL. ND IS FREAKING OUT, YOU BETTER TRY AND TALK SOME SENSE INTO F WHEN YOU GET HOME. XX MCDES.

'I'm sure it's just a fight, they'll be back together in a week or so,' said Burt reassuringly, squeezing Carole's hand.

'Oh... I just hope nothing bad happened. Finn's been so happy with Rachel,' said Carole worriedly.

'I think they've been having problems just over the past couple of days,' said Kurt awkwardly. Carole looked at him in surprise and opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but he threw his hands up defensively.

'Whatever's going on,' he said, 'I think you should find out from Finn.'

'Kurt, do you know what's going on?' demanded Burt. 'Because Carole and I are sort of in the dark, here.'

'I swear on Pavarotti's soul that I do not know why Finn broke up with Rachel,' said Kurt firmly, and Burt nodded, satisfied. He turned to Carole.

'Honey, maybe you should go talk to him...' he suggested. 'He must be pretty upset. Maybe you can find out what happened... see if there's anything we can do to help.'

'Yeah, I'll go talk to him,' agreed Carole. She turned to her chopping board, picked up the knife and turned back to shove it into Burt's hands.

'You,' she said, 'keep dicing that chicken. Kurt, once you've eaten and gotten changed, you can supervise.'

She exited the room and started walking up the stairs to Burt's outraged cry of 'I'm forty five, Carole!'

Finn's room was the second to the left at the top of the staircase. The door was closed, but she could hear his footsteps moving inside. Hesitantly, she knocked. No response.

'Finn?' she called.

'Yeah?'

She almost jumped. It was the first thing he'd said all afternoon - and he practically barked it at her.

'Can I come in?'

'Yep.'

She opened the door and stepped inside.

Finn's room was a treasure trove of male paraphernalia; baseball mitts, footballs, dirty socks, plates with half eaten sandwiches on them, an x-box. He never made his bed, or dusted, or picked his clothes up off the floor - but today, Finn's room was spotless, and Finn was standing with his back to Carole near the desk, jerkily tidying a pile of books that were stacked near his computer. Finn cleaned his room. He must really be upset.

'Hey, honey,' said Carole gently. Finn grunted in response.

She moved to sit on his bed, and observed his shoulders tensing as he realized she wasn't planning on a quick visit but an actual conversation.

'Kurt told me about you and Rachel.'

Just like that, he turned around, and she was shocked at the anger on his face. It wasn't for no reason that the kids at his school had coined the nickname Finnocence - Finn was good, Finn was sweet, Finn was the epitomy of everything kind and forgiving, and if he was ever upset you were more likely to find him crying than angry. But his eyes were completely dry, and flashing with annoyance; his jaw was clenched, lips pressed together in a thin line that truly showed how furious he was.

'Kurt told you? Kurt knows? What the hell! It only happened like, two hours ago,' he shouted, throwing his hands out in disgust. He glared at her, as though blaming her somehow for the speed of the high school gossip circuit, and she recoiled slightly, a little stunned.

'You know what high school's like, Finn. Everybody knows everything about everyone,' she said placatingly.

'Well, that was really great of him to just go ahead and tell you like that,' he spat resentfully, crossing his arms. Carole raised her eyebrows, stern.

'Kurt told me because I was worried about you. You didn't say a word when you got home. You just locked yourself in your room. Were you going to tell me what happened?'

He scowled at her, leaning against the wall with a stony expression and his arms still crossed tight against his chest. She took his silence and pissed off demeanour as a no, and sighed.

'Baby, I know it's horrible but you and Rachel will work things out. It's not hard to tell that -'

'What, Mom?' he snapped. 'That Rachel doesn't give a shit about anything other than her own ego? Damn straight it's not hard to tell.'

'Finn!' she said, appalled at both his language and his attitude. Finn loved Rachel. Just the mention of her name put a smile on his face - and though she'd met Rachel, and knew and understood that a lot of the other Glee kids found her pushy and selfish and boastful, Finn had always been her staunchest supporter. The way he talked about her... his voice got all funny and his eyes lit up a little and she always took from those signs that Finn saw something magical in Rachel, and she could only be happy about that, because Rachel certainly made him happy. At least, up until now.

'What makes you say that? What happened?' she asked pleadingly.

For a moment Finn just looked at her. There was a tense silence as he decided whether or not to tell Carole the truth, and then he took a deep breath and spilled it all out in a matter of seconds, as though the very act of saying the words pained him.

'She kissed Puck,' he said flatly.

What?

Carole's jaw dropped open with shock.

Rachel kissed Puck? PUCK? All at once her mind was simultaneously flooded with anger at her son's ex-best friend and his girlfriend. Why did Puck, who Finn had once viewed as the highest form of cool, the person he most wanted to be like (she had to admit, though she regretted the disintegration of their friendship she certainly didn't miss that worrying hero worship) seem to make it his mission in life to take every girl Finn ever liked? And why on earth would Rachel, who looked at her son like he hung the moon and wore his name around her neck like a shield, kiss him knowing not only that the act would ruin her relationship with Finn but that the person she chose to do it with would make him feel worse than anyone else possibly could?

Finn was watching her intensely, his expression daring her to excuse Rachel, to say anything that might imply he could ever or should ever forgive her. And looking back at him, Carole noticed for the first time that Finn wasn't just angry. He was hurt, too. His arms weren't crossed over his chest out of defiance, but in a subconscious act to hold himself together; and the tight, angry lines of his face were not just a mark of his rage and indignation, but of how hard he was trying not to cry.

'I'm so sorry,' she said softly, getting up and walking over to stand in front of him. She reached up in the bizarre reversion of parent-child maneuvers that had become so familiar to them since his growth spurt and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. Finn's face crumpled and he inhaled shakily, nodding in acknowledgment but signalling the end of the discussion. Carole's stomach clenched as she noticed the way he scrunched his eyes, determined not to shed a tear for Rachel, and with one last smile, she tried to convey that things would get better, that he didn't deserve this, that she would always be on his side - and then she turned around and walked away, to save the last remaining shreds of his pride before he lost his composure. She closed the door gently behind her, and did not scold him when she heard the telltale thud of his foot hitting the wall. He deserved to kick something, and she preferred it be his bedroom wall than Puck or Rachel.

'Is he okay?'

Carole spun around and surprised, and sighed when she saw Burt with his hands in his pockets, looking concerned.

'He's angry. Rachel kissed Puck,' explained Carole regretfully, keeping her voice low to prevent Finn from overhearing. Burt's eyes went wide.

'What? I... wow. I never would have expected that,' he confessed. 'I thought better of Rachel than that... and I certainly never thought she would do that to Finn!'

'I didn't either,' admitted Carole. 'She's such a nice girl... unique, but nice.'

'Unique is one word for it,' said Burt derisively, his expression growing annoyed.

'Burt.' Carole put her hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes, compelling him. 'They're kids.'

'Yeah, I know,' sighed Burt. 'I mean... I guess she must have had a reason, right?'

'I suppose,' said Carole slowly. She must have had a reason. Something had to have changed between now and the wedding to cause those two blissfully happy kids to fall apart - something must have driven her into Puck's arms. But she doubted she would get a straight answer from Finn - he was too angry and hurt to think of anything but how bad Rachel made him feel.

She wished things still worked like they had when he was little: when he ran to her with his problems and not only wanted but expected her to make them magically right themselves again. Now Finn wanted to sort out his own messes... though she would always help. If she could.

'Maybe we could get Kurt to find out for us,' she suggested. Burt looked doubtful.

'I don't know... those Glee kids mean well but if we go asking for information about their relationship who knows what they'll stir up,' he reasoned.

'Yeah... that was a stupid idea.'

A weird look passed over Burt's face; Carole knew him well enough to recognize his 'I just got an idea but you might not like it' face, and she raised her eyebrows, half curious half apprehensive.

'You know who you could ask,' said Burt. When Carole didn't answer with an immediate 'yes, I do - why didn't I think of that!' he continued on, looking impatient, waving his hands. 'Rachel.'

Carole laughed... until she realized he wasn't joking.

'You want me to go and ask my son's... ex-girlfriend why she kissed another boy?' she asked disbelievingly. 'That's a terrible idea.'

'Why?' asked Burt defensively. 'She'll be far more likely to give an answer than Finn will - she'll want to justify why she did what she did! At least that way we'd know... and we might be able to help.'

'You can't be serious,' she said, astonished.

Burt gave her his very serious expression: narrowed eyes, furrowed eyebrows, mouth set in a firm line that teetered on the edge of a pout. She found it very difficult to take him seriously.

'Burt,' she said - anything to get that ridiculous look off his face - 'I can't ask Rachel. It's interfering - they're teenagers, they'll be adults in a few years, their relationships are their responsibility and their business, and their mistakes are their own to make. It crosses every line of propriety there is - Finn would be embarassed, Rachel would be embarassed, it would just - it would be a mess. And you're right - she'd want to justify why she did what she did. I would hardly think she's likely to give an objective account. She's Rachel.'

Carole thought she'd made several compelling points - including her very true proclamation that 'she's Rachel', which in and of itself was enough for two people who only knew Rachel superficially to be doubtful about the success of the venture - but Burt still looked a little unconvinced.

'What?' she asked, exasperated.

'Hey,' said Burt. He grinned - that madcap, irresistible grin of his - and moved beside her so he could put an arm around her shoulders. 'All I'm saying is... Rachel really loves Finn. I mean, we think she still loves Finn, right?'

'I think she must.'

'Well,' he said, 'we've seen how great they are together. That girl needs him in her life. I just think she's smart enough to put all her crazy and the self-defense aside and explain what happened if she thinks you'll be able to help.'

Carole was silent.

The truth was, she thought it was inappropriate. It was ridiculous; it was insane; it was likely to do more harm than good! But the more she thought about it, the less she cared. She just kept thinking back to the way Finn fought to hold himself together in his room, falling apart without Rachel - she kept seeing his eyes, begging her to leave before he started crying, because he couldn't take losing all his pride in one day. The truth was that if she was Rachel's father (either one of them) she'd be horrified at what she was thinking of doing. But as Finn's mother, she couldn't see much of a choice - it was risk making things worse in a relationship that was basically already over, but chance getting her son back together with the girl he loved; or do nothing, and just watch him be miserable. And suddenly she knew what she was going to do.

She looked up at Burt - and could tell from his eyes that he'd known, all along, that she would agree to do it - with a little convincing. She laughed quietly and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him briefly, before pulling back to look into his eyes.

'I never knew you were such a big fan of 'Finchel',' she said teasingly. He chuckled, but his face quickly turned solemn.

'I don't know,' he said seriously. 'Finn and Rachel both clearly have their problems... flaws they're working to overcome. Every kid does. But it's not often you find two who bring out the best in each other. Make them forget sometimes how flawed they are. Finn's a bit of a kid sometimes, gets caught up in what it takes to be popular, too concerned with what other people think of him. Rachel helps him see that he's better than that. And Rachel... that girl is nine kinds of insecure, but anyone can see she feels like a million bucks when she's with him.' He paused, and said hesitantly, 'It's the kind of relationship I'd like Kurt to have some day. Only... with a boy.'

He grinned as Carole laughed. It was strange. People looked at Burt and saw the burly, simplistic mechanic who loved football and baseball and really big sandwiches; she was lucky enough to know the father, the philosopher, the wise man. She'd never really thought about just how much Finn and Rachel gave to each other that way... and it was a lot more than a smile.

She shook her head, disengaging herself from that train of thought. Car keys. She needed car keys.

As if he read her mind, Burt pulled his keys from his jeans pocket and held them up, smiling rakishly.

'I'll drive you. I want to know what happens.'