Chapter Two: Come Together
He say "I know you, you know me"
One thing I can tell you is you got to be free
Come together right now over me
Will and Emma
There was something magical about Chicago. If Will needed convincing, New Directions achieving its second Nationals Championship in the same city as the first proved more than enough. As he stood on stage that night, holding aloft the huge trophy with the help of the kids, he felt the magic all around him. It was strong enough to make him think the impossible was possible. It was powerful enough to fuel a crazy idea and to give him the conviction, and powers of persuasion, to carry it though.
Emma was easy. She was the one who had pointed out a while ago that this was his twenty-fifth year of directing the glee club. She had wanted to talk to Principal Mahmood about arranging some sort of tribute to him. Will had declined, saying it was about the kids, not about him. But on that stage, on that night, Will had his epiphany. He could use the win to convince the school to honour the kids, all of them, from first to last. The real problem was how close they were to the end of the school year. There was so little time.
As soon as he got home, he told Emma about his idea, about having a special glee club reunion. She saw the light shining in his eyes and agreed immediately to do whatever she could to help. They went to see Mahmood together. Of course, he said no. The school didn't have the funds, there wasn't time to organise anything, the auditorium was needed for graduation, and fifty other reasons. They beat him down on every one, getting a commitment for a quarter of the prize money and the use of the auditorium on the condition that it was put back in order, ready for graduation, the following day.
The Schusters were pleased with what they got but realistic enough to know that it wasn't enough money, no matter how much they could do themselves or organise through volunteers. So they talked about kicking in some of their own. With three kids, two yet to start college, this needed serious consideration. They went into the teachers lounge to discuss it. Sue looked up sourly on their entry.
"I heard that all the judges this year were deaf," Sue announced.
"Thank you, Sue," Will replied, "I accept your congratulations."
"Will, the day I congratulate you about anything except your boycott of hair products is the day my bones take their rightful place in the Smithsonian. How you managed to win another championship without my help will go down in the annuls of 'What the Fuck'." With that, Sue downed the last of her energy drink, spilling a few drops on the table, to Emma's distaste. She stalked out as Emma pulled out a wet-wipe from an ever-present supply in her bag and proceeded to clean the table.
"I don't think we can do any more, Em," Will said sadly as he took a seat.
Emma paused from her ministrations of the now clean table.
"You know, Will, we have Jonathan's money."
Their oldest son was at Harvard on a full academic scholarship. It was unexpected and a relief on the financial burden of planning for three college educations. They'd kept the money in the college fund, intending to use any left over after the other two graduated to supplement their pensions.
"I'm not sure that would be fair on Max or Judy," Will replied. He paused and then added, "Or on Jonathan."
"Jonathan has made it clear that he doesn't expect any help from us, Will. We should respect his wishes. He doesn't need to work now and yet he is working to put together the money for med school. He'll be fine. I just wish you two…"
"Yeah," Will said, "I know."
Will loved his son and was incredibly proud of his achievements. He just couldn't help but feel that Jonathan, who had a wonderful voice, was wasting his talent. It was something he couldn't hide from his astute son and it had caused not a rift, exactly, but a tension that neither of them had done anything to relieve.
"William, we can do it. The glee kids, which include all of your children and your goddaughter by the way, deserve it and you deserve it. If worse comes to worse, we'll go to my parents."
Will hated Emma's parents and there was little that would force him to ask for their help. He set his jaw, ready to be sensible, a look Emma recognised well. She rushed to interject.
"Don't stop believing, Will."
Will felt the air go out of him as he struggled between deriding an old cliché and laughter. Emma, her eyes shining brightly, looked so pleased with herself that the latter won easily.
"Okay, okay, you win." He reached out across the table, took her hand, and corrected himself. "We win."
Fourteen days of havoc had followed that day Will came home from Chicago with a spring in his step and a big trophy. Before she had a handle on her OCD, times like these would have sent Emma Schuster into catatonia. She had to combine preparations for the reunion with students freaking out over their lives post-high school and with her son Max having a meltdown after a fight with his boyfriend. With some feelings of guilt, she'd passed Max-watch over to his best friend, Ray Hudson, but she needn't have worried. Ray manoeuvred Max into an apology and reconciliation quickly enough.
Emma liked clean work and tracking down all former glee club members was just that. Between everything going on around her, she used every spare moment to be a detective, getting numbers, addresses, leads. Her greatest achievement was getting the number for Rachel Berry. That had taken real skill, if she said so herself. She passed all the details onto Will of for one hundred and sixty-two members less the ones in the current group whose attendance was guaranteed. They'd decided that Will would be the one to contact each of them with one exception. The exception was her job.
She picked up the phone and made the connection.
"Hello?"
"Darling," she cried, "how are you?"
"Hi, Mom. Is any wrong?"
"Does something have to be wrong for me to call you?"
Jonathan paused before he answered. "No, of course not, but you usually call on Sundays so…"
"Okay, so I do have a reason for calling," she laughed. "I want you to come home."
"Mom," he complained, "you know I've only just finished my exams. I go full-time on my job next week and I was going to sleep until then."
"Yes, sweetheart, I know, but this is important."
She explained the situation to her son, listened to his reply and told him she loved him. She put down the phone with a sigh.
Getting the auditorium ready was another nightmare. They potentially were expecting one hundred and twenty people and the stage was too small to accommodate that many. So they had to look at removing some of the seating, a major job.
Will cajoled Finn into lending a hand and a labour force while Emma distracted the principal with year-end reports and artful interceptions. In the meantime, she engaged some of the current glee club members, particularly Max and Ray who were both artistically inclined, to help plan the theme and decorations. The theme was obvious, the decorations were economical but between them all, they'd come up with something that looked pretty decent.
So it was that at 6:30 pm on the day of the reunion, Will and Emma finally stood back and peered out at the results of the two-week effort. Will glanced over to his wife. He licked his finger and used it to remove a smudge of dirt on Emma's cheek. She gasped and then smiled at him.
"You know I love you, Emma Pillsbury," he said softly.
"I do know that, Will Schuster" she said, happy but weary.
"I think I'd love you even more if you had a shower."
Emma punched his arm in retaliation and started running out of the auditorium. Will chased after her, laughing. They had an hour to get home, get changed and get back to receive their guests.
Mercedes and Matt
The car stalled, just as she was manoeuvring into a parking position. She was neither in nor out of it and causing an obstruction. She turned the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered and died.
"Girl, somebody up there is trying to tell you something," she muttered to herself as she tried again with similar results. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and wished herself back in LA.
"Can I help?"
Mercedes jumped at the voice at her ear. She hadn't noticed anyone else in the parking lot to witness her humiliation. She looked out the window to see a tall handsome man getting out of the red sports car properly parked in the adjacent spot. She stared at him, unable to form words.
"Mercedes?"
He startled her again, using her name.
"Yes. How? Who?" Mercedes was babbling and she knew it. She took a deep breath and opened the car door. Getting a better look at him, she gasped.
"Matt?"
"Yes! How are things?"
Matt grinned and then added as he looked down at the car, "Well, not great, I can see that."
Mercedes laughed. "It's an old car," she said. "It has its own mind and I think it has decided that I shouldn't be here."
"That's funny. My car is the only reason I'm here. I was sitting here wondering why I let it drive me to Lima. Maybe we should introduce them and they can thrash it out."
Mercedes had forgotten how nice Matt was; truthfully, she'd forgotten Matt. They'd never really connected that first year of glee club and his leaving had brought in Sam, a person she'd thought about a lot over the intervening years.
"Anyway," Matt hurried on, a little embarrassed by the silence, "let me have a try."
Matt got into the driver's seat and tried to start the car. It stubbornly remained dead. He climbed back out, grabbed the wheel and pushed with all his weight to get the car into the spot. He engaged the hand brake and closed the door.
"There," he said, "that will solve the problem for now. As for not going in, I can offer you the alternative of sitting in my car deciding with me a while longer, if you like."
"You know, we're here now. And besides, we want to give them," pausing to gesture at the cars, "a little alone time now that we've played matchmaker."
"You're right," he replied. He held out his arm. "May I have the honour of escorting you inside, Miss Jones?"
"You may, Mr. Rutherford. Let's make an entrance."
Quinn and Santana
"This is beyond lame."
Santana's first disappointment had been with the setting. It was so small town and home-made. The auditorium had been turned into a photo gallery of glee club, with pictures of every year's club since 2009. There were balloons everywhere. On the back of the stage, there was a huge screen showing glee club performances that had been recorded on apparatus of varying technological advancement and quality. Across the top, at the front of the stage, was a banner:
Glee Club 2009-2034 – Don't Stop Believing.
It was the first thing she saw as she and Quinn entered the auditorium and she snorted. She made a face and opened her mouth to give an honest and justly harsh critique when Quinn gave a barely perceptible shake of the head to warn her that they were about to have company.
"Quinn Fabray! Santana Lopez! I'm so happy you've come."
Schuster enveloped them both in a hug before standing back to gaze at them.
"Wow, neither of you have aged a day. I can't believe that it's been more than twenty years."
"You're looking good too, Mr. Schu," said Quinn. It was the automatic polite response but she as she said it, she realised she meant it.
Will smiled and shuffled his feet a little uncomfortably. Santana rolled her eyes even though she would have admitted, albeit under torture, that Will was aging gracefully.
"Call me Will," he said.
"No way," said Santana. "You will always be Mr. Schu to us. You should know that."
He laughed and said that she was probably right as Emma joined them and made her own greetings. There followed some small talk before the Schusters were forced back to the door to welcome new arrivals. Quinn and Santana stepped down into the space created by the removal of the seats.
They found the bar on the side. The choice was extremely limited, another cause of disappointment and, as between beer and wine, they had to make do with wine of questionable vintage. After looking around and ascertaining that there was no one they recognised, they snuck up the steps and took to some of the seats in the upper tier of the auditorium.
"This is beyond lame."
Quinn shrugged and asked, "What did you expect?"
"I don't know," Santana said. "I thought it would be a little classy since they had us come in formal wear. Champagne, maybe? Hot crudités? Hotter waitresses? Something!"
"They're all so young," Quinn mused. "Did you realise that other than the teachers, we'd be the oldest ones here?"
Santana looked at her in horror. It hadn't even occurred to her.
"Oh, God. Now I feel like my abuela. Could this evening get any worse?"
"I don't believe it," Quinn spluttered out.
"What? Where?" Santana looked out over the crowd, searching. It didn't her long. "Brittany? Why on earth is she in her Cheerios uniform? And what the hell is that thing attached to her head?"
Brittany was on the lower floor, chatting to someone they couldn't see. She hadn't spotted them. Santana grabbed Quinn's arm and cried urgently, "Duck!"
Quinn shook Santana's hand off her arm and refused to follow Santana as she ducked low in her seat. She gave Santana an amused and pitying look before reminding her that she was the one who got all misty-eyed.
Quinn stood up. Santana shook her head frantically before conceding and slowly rising.
"Let's go say hello," Quinn said, taking her friend's hand and leading her down the stairs.
"Wait," Santana pleaded. "I need to go throw up first."
Puck
Puck took his time surveying the crowd. There were a lot of very hot women and even he could appreciate that the same could be said about some of the guys. He slid his hand over the side of his newly shaved head, positively salivating at the prospect of the evening. Estelle would never know. Actually, he thought, she'd know. She just wouldn't care. She'd been busy with her own pool boys lately. Puck was here to enjoy himself as the female magnet he undoubtedly still was.
So it was ironic, if Puck had a grasp of what the word meant, that as he made his way through the crowd, it was a male voice that stopped him in his tracks.
"Puck?"
Puck turned to find himself staring at a tall, handsome black guy who looked vaguely familiar.
"I'd recognise that Mohawk anywhere," the man said.
"Matt? Matt Rutherford? Wow, dude, great to see you!" Puck held up his hand for a high five and Matt obliged.
"You too, man. It's been such a long time."
"Where did you go, bro? I mean, you disappeared on us. Did you know we won the football championship the next year? And the glee club won the year after that. It all came true." It all rushed out of Puck and Matt laughed.
"Yeah, I knew. Guess you didn't need me."
"Aw, man," Puck said, feeling oddly emotional. "It would have been good to have you though."
Puck learned that Matt had come in with Mercedes, who had disappeared to the ladies room. They started to exchange potted life histories. Puck was enjoying himself but when a second male voice said his name behind him, Puck wondered if the Mohawk was sending out a different message these days. He turned and beheld Sam Evans.
"Sam!"
Puck gave Sam a hug which Sam struggled out of with a laugh.
"I can't believe you still have that hair, Puck," Sam said, gazing at it with something akin to awe.
"Only for tonight, bro. Here, let me introduce you two. Sam, this is Matt Rutherford. Matt, this is Sam Evans. He's the guy who replaced you in glee."
While the two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, Puck snuck a look around the room. At this rate, it was going to be a night of beers with the boys. On the edge of his vision, he caught sight of two very hot women heading towards them.
"Guys, hot chick alert, heading our way."
Matt and Sam turned to see what Puck was talking about. As the women came closer, Puck recognised one of them.
"Well, well, Quinn Fabray," Puck said appreciatively. "She just can't resist the Puckmeister."
"And she found Mercedes," Matt said.
Neither Puck nor Matt noticed that Sam had turned pale.
"That's Mercedes!" Puck wolf whistled.
Kurt
"Is that Blaine?" Being a head taller than every one else, Finn was proving to be adept at spotting faces.
"No!" Kurt was horrified. "He can't be here. Oh no, no, I can't let him see me, I can't, I just can't. Hide me!"
Finn laughed. "What's the problem, bro? You two parted amicably years ago. Besides, I thought you were still friends. I'm pretty sure I remember him at the wedding. He sang."
Kurt stared at his brother as if he were insane.
"It's not that, idiot. You don't get it. I told him I wasn't coming."
Finn laughed even louder and Ray joined in.
"Uncle Kurt, the words 'hoist' and 'petard' are coming to mind," she said, showing off her Shakespeare.
"Pft. You try bringing your significant other to a party where your first love is holding court, and you know what Blaine is like, and see how that goes."
"But George isn't-. Oh, right, he was going to be," she realised. "Oh, poor Kurt."
Finn was finding the whole thing hilarious and Ray couldn't help but start giggling again.
"Are you two just going to stand there like deranged clowns or are you actually going to be helpful," Kurt said crossly, casting anxious glances in the direction Finn had been looking.
Finn straightened his face and said solemnly, "We're going to be helpful."
He put his hands on Kurt's shoulder and led him through the crowd. Kurt quickly realised that they were going in exactly the wrong direction but before he could escape Finn's firm hand, it was too late.
"Kurt! You're here!"
Kurt couldn't say anything because Blaine Anderson grabbed him and pulled his head down for a big kiss.
Mike and Tina
Tina had always had her own style but years of hard work and motherhood had eroded her panache somewhat. Tonight, it was different. Tonight, she had rediscovered her retro self in her daughter's wardrobe. It wasn't the '60s, it wasn't Gothic Chic but it was most certainly retro.
Her daughter Ally had been a keen member of the drama club and had the starring role in a play set in the 1950s. Tina had made her costumes for her and the final act dress was a real stunner. It was a boned strapless number in black taffeta and lace, of cocktail length with a waspish waist and a full skirt. There was one thin jewelled belt at the tiny waist and a second under the bust line. Tina had put her hair up and looked like she had just stepped out of an Audrey Hepburn movie. She was glorious.
At least Mike thought so and judging by the glances she was getting, he wasn't the only one. He found himself being a little more possessive than usual, holding her a little closer, as he guided them towards the bar. On their way, they waved at Finn and Kurt and spotted Sam and Puck, noting where they were for later.
"What would you like to drink," Mike asked as they approached the bar. Tina, not usually a drinker, was feeling a little reckless and asked for wine. Mike raised his eyebrows but didn't demur. He got himself a beer and made to lead them back to their friends. She didn't move.
"What is it?" Mike could see that she was staring at something he couldn't see.
"I think Artie's here too," Tina said.
"Yeah? You've seen him?"
"No," she said, puzzled, "but there's a girl here with a proper camera and I know Artie sometimes does documentaries."
Tina turned to her husband and said, "Let's go find him."
She took his hand and he was forced to let himself be led instead.
Artie
Artie had pretty much given up on telling Gail where to put the camera. The room was crowded and trying to make his way through it with the wheelchair was proving to be a harder task than he was used to. Besides, she seemed to prefer being given a free hand and while that would usually have driven him crazy – he liked being in control – he was impressed enough with her work to let her have her head. Right now, she seemed to be filming more of him than anything else. He'd come to terms with the realisation that nothing was really going to come of this trip. He was unlikely to be able to sell a programme about a high school glee club reunion and just regretted the indigestion he was going to suffer back in the office paying the bills for it.
Artie sighed and attempted to roll towards a safe corner. He made two turns of the wheel when he can face to stomach with a Cheerio.
"Hey, Artie."
"Oh, hey Brittany." He looked up at her, bemused. "Brittany, why is there a horn on your head?"
"I'm a unicorn tonight. Can't you tell?"
"Uh, right. Ooookay." It made as much sense as anything else Brittany did or said so Artie let it drop.
"Good crowd tonight. Who's here from our time," he asked, changing the subject.
"What? Oh, I don't know, I haven't checked. Look Artie, there's no way Rachel Berry is going to turn up so I've arranged for you to interview Sue Sylvester."
"What? No!" Artie backed the chair away from Brittany in horror at the thought of having to have a one-to-one with Sue.
"Artie! Don't say that! You'll only prove her right."
"What do you mean 'prove her right.' What are you talking about?"
Brittany jumped onto Artie's lap, forcing him to frantically apply the brake before they both tumbled over. She put her arms around her neck and explained confidentially, "She said that a local PBS station was too small to be doing a piece on the greatest cheerleading coach the world had ever seen. She said that if she had just won ten times, then maybe, but after twentieth time, she reckons it will be Fox who comes knocking."
Artie had always found Brittany beguiling and he felt himself slipping into acquiescence. After all, there wasn't any else going on. Maybe a feature on Sue, painful though it might be, would make sense. He craned his neck to see if Gail was behind him. She was but he was startled to see someone else approaching. It was Tina, but a Tina he hadn't seen in a long time.
As Artie was watching Tina dragging Mike towards him, Brittany was experiencing her own shock as she recognised a figure approaching them from another direction. It was Santana. Brittany leaped out of the chair, nearly sending Artie, who was leaning back, flying again.
Will and Emma
"Jonathan!"
Will started at his wife's joyous cry. He turned to see his son being grasped tightly in Emma's arms. Will waited until she'd let him go before saying softly, "It's good to see you son." He went to give Jonathan a hug just as his son stepped away from his mother, leading to an almost comical lack of contact.
"Hey, Dad." Jonathan's compensatory pat on Will's shoulder was a poor substitute. Jonathan went on, "Congratulations."
"Thanks, son. I'm really glad you came. I hoped you'd want to, to catch up with the kids from your time. Almost all of them are here, you know."
Will knew from Jonathan's sheepish face that he wasn't there because he wanted to be. Emma had obviously used guilt to get him to come and it cut Will to the core, although it didn't surprise him.
"So," Jonathan said, "I'd best go find some of the old gang."
"Ray's here," Emma said, noticing his blush with satisfaction. "I know she's looking forward to saying hi."
"Okay. I'll, uh, I'll see you later than." He started to walk away.
"If Max is drinking, stop him," she called after him. With that, Emma returned to her door duties.
Will lingered to watch his son as he headed down into the lower area. He saw him hurry over to Ray and Finn. "Tomorrow," Will said to himself, "tomorrow, we'll sit down and work it out. I love him, I'm proud of him, he's entitled to his own life and this is stupid."
He heard Emma gasp behind him. Knowing that he had no more children from whom he'd managed to estrange himself, Will turned to see what had caused her reaction. He couldn't believe his eyes.
"Rachel!"
Finn
He knew. It wasn't the instant silence in the crowded room. It wasn't the shocked faces before him, staring beyond him. Those faces blurred until all he could register were gaping mouths. It wasn't even Ray, reaching for and clutching his arm. It was the chill that ran up his spine and the sudden nausea in the pit of his stomach that almost made him retch. He knew. He didn't have to turn around. He knew she was there.
He took a deep breath and then another. He closed his eyes and counted. One; two; three; all the way up to ten, forcing himself to inhale and exhale at a steady pace. Only then could he slowly, very slowly, turn around.
