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Finn glanced around the airport- his kids could spot him from a mile away, running and screaming towards him. But he heard none of the familiar screams.
Glancing at the big clock, he thought the plane might have landed early- but Rachel would have known that. She was all for scheduling and planning (their first trip to Nationals had been evidence of that- Santana had threatened to tie her up and gag her if she didn't stop waving the itinerary around. And, it being Santana, Rachel believed her).
Glancing around once more, he took a seat in front of the baggage carousel, waiting for the two suitcases he had to make their way around (one with his clothing, the other with their children's Christmas presents).
After half an hour of waiting, he began to grow worried. Rachel was never late- and if she was late, she would come bearing a hand written letter of apology.
Staring at the clock, thinking the worst, he hardly registered when his phone began to ring.
"Hello?" he said distractedly.
He didn't expect to hear his best friend's wife on the other end.
"Finn?" Quinn choked out. "Finn, its Rachel- there-"
"What happened to Rachel?" he demanded. "Quinn, is she okay?"
"Rachel's fine, oh my God, Finn, the kids- Puck's coming to pick you up, you have to come to the hospital!"
"Quinn, what happened? Are the kids okay?"
The blonde was crying too hard to speak. Hanging up the phone, she looked around in despair. In the panic of the situation, she had left Beth in charge of Ella, screaming that they would call later. Standing in the hospital waiting room, she took in the bright lights and the unpleasant smell of disinfectant.
"What happened to Rachel?"
Finn had been outside the moment he saw Puck's truck, throwing the suitcases in the back and leaping into the passenger seat.
"Are the kids okay? Oh my God, please tell me the kids are okay!"
Puck had been trying hard to hold back his own tears, as he shook his head.
As Puck drove to the hospital, he could barely get his words out- but Finn managed to catch the gist of it.
A semi trailer had ploughed through, hitting the backseat of the mini van and knocking Rachel unconscious. The force of the impact had rendered little Hannah and Ava lifeless- and Isaac in a critical condition.
As Puck pulled into the hospital, Finn was sobbing into his hands, as he left the truck. Quinn met him in the door and he fell into her arms, crying so hard his whole body shook.
"Finn", Hiram said gravely, his own eyes red and puffy, his face tear stained.
"You need to see Isaac", Rachel said hoarsely, coming into view, her beautiful chocolate brown eyes bloodshot. "Finn, you need to see Isaac, oh my God.. Isaac!"
He wrapped his arms around her. "Baby are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine", she said numbly, leading him into a room.
The tiny body of their three year old son was hooked up to what seemed like hundreds of machines, his heartbeat making the machine beep. His chest rose and fell methodically, giving Finn some sense of hope. "He's going to be alright, isn't he?" he said to a doctor, taking the little boy's hand. "Come on, buddy, you'll be right. Daddy's here. Daddy's here, bud…"
"Mrs Hudson, Mr Hudson…"
Isaac was brain dead. The only thing keeping him alive was the oxygen they were pumping into his tiny body.
"Stop it", Rachel gasped, as the doctor told them. "No, no, stop it. Not my baby boy. He's my little boy; I can't lose Isaac as well as my girls… I can't lose Isaac!" she sobbed into Finn's chest, as her husband numbly rubbed her back.
They had a decision to make. Whether they let the doctors keep pumping oxygen into his tiny body and live a life that was not a life at all, or let him join his sisters in a better place.
They held him tight, as the doctor switched off the oxygen, holding him until his tiny chest stopped moving. Rachel cried into his shirt, as they saw the bodies of their three lifeless children.
Hannah Elyse Hudson. Her mother's carbon copy, a daddy's little girl, with dreams to make it big on the Broadway stage. The girl with dreams as big as her smile. Dreams that would never be fulfilled.
Isaac Nathaniel Hudson. The little boy who looked so much like his father, who dreamed of becoming a police officer or a firefighter, out to help people. The boy who helped out no matter what.
Ava Jean Hudson. The baby of the family with her mama's eyes and her daddy's smile, too little to know her own dreams. A fighter, who's dreams had been ripped from her before they could even begin.
Three beautiful children, taken away from their parents in a blink of an eye.
A person who lost a partner was called a widow, and a child who lost their parents was called an orphan. There was no word for a parent that had lost a child.