A/N: Many thanks to neyronrose for her quick response to my request for a proofreader.

Also a belated thanks to gottriplets, notthatbea, and neyronrose (again) for beta and proofing on chapter two. I forgot to acknowledge their contributions when I first posted that chapter.

Warning for discussion of Finn's death in this chapter.


The first time Kurt woke on that day, he squinted at the barely-there light leaking through the blinds and rolled over to go back to sleep. Perhaps this place was rubbing off on him, just a little. He had no rehearsals, auditions, or classes to attend today. Absolutely no reason to get up early if he didn't want to. And he didn't want to. Especially not today.

It was the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand that woke him the second time. Blinking against the now-bright glare of the sunlight, he groped for it and held the phone in front of his bleary gaze to read the text from Rachel.

Hey. How are you coping today?

He sighed, forcing sleep-numb fingers to operate well enough to swipe the phone awake and respond.

Just woke up. Managed to avoid reality so far.

From Rachel:

I was up at 5:30. Had a dream. Jesse got up with me and made me tea.

From Kurt:

Glad you have him. And that he's good about this every year.

From Rachel:

Glad you're with parents. Tell them hello and send hugs.

From Kurt:

Hugs to you too. Talk more later.

A heart emoticon was the only response. Kurt sighed, letting the phone fall to the comforter, letting his eyes slip closed again. He could hear his dad and Carole moving in the house, somewhere nearby. Then a faint swish that he recognized as the sliding glass door leading to the porch and the house breathed silent once more.

Kurt stayed for just a moment longer, almost surrendering to the seductive pull of the mattress inviting him to stay, ignore reality just a little longer….but forced himself to roll over and sit up on the edge of the bed. He took a moment to point and flex both feet, then roll them in circles, testing out the stiffness of an old dance injury. It still caused him problems occasionally.

After going through the minimum necessities in the bathroom, he took a deep breath and left his room, as prepared as he was going to be to face the day. The living room was empty but he could see his parents' backs as they sat on the porch and then, oddly enough, heard their laughter. He paused en route to the coffee pot and instead went to the glass door. He hovered on the inside, reluctant to disturb them where they had their heads bent together over a photo album, but Carole saw him and waved, calling him to join them.

He slid the door open and stepped over to peer down at the book. Very few people kept photo albums anymore, but Carole liked them. She'd put together several after Finn's death, chronicling the last years of his life much as she'd made baby albums detailing his first few years.

This one seemed to be focused mostly on the Glee Club. There was himself in the second row of a posed group shot, all of them in their Regionals costumes. Finn was on the back row of course, with tiny Rachel improbably in the back row with him—but Finn was holding her up so she wouldn't get hidden by those taller than her, which was everyone.

Kurt smiled at the picture, then walked around to the front of Carole's chair, bending down to give her a hug.

"That's from me and from Rachel," he said to her surprised face when he pulled back. Her eyes softened as she understood. "She's already texted me this morning."

"She's grown into a fine young woman," Carole murmured, with all the might-have-beens etched on her face. "I have to admit that back then I doubted whether she'd ever become a little less insufferable, but she did. If things had turned out differently, I'd have been proud to have her as my daughter-in-law." Her voice caught a little and Burt reached over to hold her hand. "All you Glee kids turned into wonderful adults. I'm proud of all of you."

Kurt smiled, getting an idea. "Let me get some coffee, and I'll be right back. We can go through that photo album from the beginning, okay?"

He stepped back inside and pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly scrolling through his contacts to create a massive group text. After shooting off his message, he turned the ringer off and poured his coffee, returning to the porch to pull up a chair and join his parents in reminiscing about the son and brother they'd lost.

By the time they'd proceeded chronologically through Finn's high school years, which was dominated by football and Glee club, after Kurt had dredged up memories that even his usually-good memory had relegated to the mental attic and covered over with dust, when their coffee cups were empty and the three of them sat in silence looking out over the endless horizon, Kurt pulled his phone from his pocket. His former New Directions friends—and even those ND members who came later and he hadn't known that well—had risen to the occasion.

From Unique:

Finn cast me as Rizzo, and stood up for my right to play the role, when no one else at McKinley would treat me as a girl.

From Quinn:

Finn stepped up, ready to take care of my baby, even though he was 16 and I knew he was terrified. I'll never forget that, and I'll never forget how his mom let me stay at their house after my parents kicked me out.

From Mike:

A loyal friend who stood tall on his two left feet.

From Sue Sylvester:

I'll never forget that Finn and Kurt packed up my sister's belongings, and arranged her funeral. They had every reason to hate me, but instead chose to be kind. There's a lack of kind people in the world, and we lost one of the biggest—literally—in Finn Hudson.

From Santana:

Finn was nice to everyone, even a bitch like me. Until the day I needed someone to bitch right back at me, then that's exactly what he gave me.

From Brittany:

His anthems were always the perfect length for his really long legs.

From Sheldon Beiste:

Finn lived a good line. And my line has been better for knowing him.

From Marley:

Finn believed in his students. Really believed.

From Puck:

Best bro of my life. I'll never have another friend like him.

From Ryder:

Finn was the one who recruited me into Glee Club, and in that club I made some of the best friends of my life.

From Will Schuester:

I always tried to be a role model for Finn, show him how to be a man. But I learned just as much from him.

From Tina:

I hear the name Finn and I still tear up, all these years later. That should tell you what kind of person he was.

From Artie:

When the football jocks bullied other kids, Finn was the only one to say it was wrong. He stood up for everyone, popular or not.

From Mercedes:

That boy had one of the kindest souls I've ever met. Earth became a little poorer, and heaven a little richer, on the day he left us.

From Kitty:

He always gave everyone a chance. And a second chance.

Carole read down the list with care, her eyes filling with each new text bubble. By the time her tears were on the verge of spilling over, Burt had grown concerned and crowded in next to her to see what she was reading. She handed the phone to him wordlessly and turned to Kurt, laughing through her tears when he had a tissue ready for her.

"You Glee kids were always so close," she sniffled as she wiped her face. "You were like, well, siblings really. You all fought and drove each other crazy, but you always stood up for each other too."

"We did." His voice cracked a little and he swallowed. "And we remember our own, Carole. Not a single person who was ever in New Directions with Finn, as a teammate or a student of his, will ever forget him."

Burt looked up from where he was scrolling through the texts. "Uh, Kurt. You've got an incoming video call." He handed the phone back so Kurt could get Rachel up on the screen, then hold the phone out where they could all see.

"Hi, guys." Rachel's smile on the small screen was tremulous but genuine. "I couldn't just send a text, I needed to see you."

"Of course," Carole responded. "You always call me on this day each year. How are you, honey?"

"Oh, using up a lot of tissues, and being even more of a diva than usual," Rachel admitted with a laugh. "I'm so lucky Jesse puts up with it. How are you?"

Carole looked to her left and right, taking in the Hummel men on both sides. "We're all remembering together, crying a little and laughing a little. We'll get through it, we always do."

Rachel only nodded, clearly not trusting herself to speak.

"Rachel…" Burt turned the phone slightly more toward himself to be sure she saw him. "You take care of yourself, okay? Today and every day. It's normal to cry a little, but Finn wouldn't want you to waste too much time weeping over him. You live your life, it's the best tribute you can give him."

She nodded before the sob she'd clearly been holding back finally broke loose, snatched back in again almost as quickly. A hand appeared from off screen to circle her shoulders before the screen turned again to show Jesse St. James leaning over.

"Burt, Carole, Kurt…I think I'd better get her off before she really melts down." The picture shook before they could see the back of Rachel's head, buried in Jesse's shoulder. His hand stroked her hair, before she pushed away from him, wiping her face.

"No, no. I'm fine. I mean, not fine but I can say goodbye." She wiped her face before looking into the phone's camera again, and Kurt crowded in close to Carole to see her. "I know I say this every year, Carole, but thank you. Thank you for raising Finn to be the person he was, who made my life happier in the time I knew him, and my life is still better for having known him. Thank you."

"You're welcome, honey. And thank you for loving him. I'm so glad you call each year."

Kurt leaned in, turning the phone toward him. "Rachel, I'll call you again tomorrow, when we're both a little happier. We'll talk about the latest theatre gossip, and happy things."

"It's a date," she smiled through her tears, still holding Jesse's hand on her shoulder.

"Oh! Ask him about the date he had yesterday-" Carole grabbed for the phone but Kurt stood quickly, holding the phone out of her reach.

"Oh my God, Kurt! What date? Tell me!"

"Bye, Rachel!" he waved as he disconnected, the picture blinking to black on her indignant face. He looked down at his stepmother who was nearly giggling, hand over her mouth. "Really, Carole? You had to tell her?"

"Oh, let her have her bit of fun, Kurt." His dad was being no help, grinning widely.

Kurt groaned. "You realize I'm going to get the third degree from her tomorrow. She's going to spend the whole night compiling a list of questions for me."

"Exactly, Kurt. Which means she won't spend the night crying." Carole winked at him, her smile at odds with the tear tracks still showing on her cheeks. "That's worth a small amount of embarrassment for you, isn't it?"

He was struck, once again, by how lucky he'd been in his parents. All his parents. He sat beside Carole again, taking her hand. "Yeah."

"Not like you weren't going to tell Rachel everything anyway," his dad said.

"It's always nice to talk to her each year. She never forgets to call. I'm happy for her that she's moved on and gotten married, that she's happy now…but I'm happy that she hasn't forgotten Finn either."

"She won't. Ever. No one who knew Finn is going to forget him," Kurt assured her.

"Y'know, some people can live four times as long as Finn, and not have the impact that he did. You should be proud of the mark he left on the world."

"I am. And you should be too, you played a part in making him the man he became." Carole wiped her eyes one more time before sitting up straight, aiming a watery smile at both of them. "Well. I wanted us to take some time today to remember Finn, and we have. But it's too pretty a day to spend it sitting here crying. What do you boys say to a walk on the beach?"

"Anything you want," Burt said easily, while Kurt just nodded.

"I'm just going to wash my face." She disappeared inside, leaving Kurt and his dad looking at each other over her empty chair.

"Doesn't get much easier, does it?" Kurt sighed. "Every year on this day, it just…" He slumped back in the chair. From the corner of his eye he could see his dad shrug.

"It does get easier in some ways. In others, nope. Hasn't so far and I doubt it ever will." He leaned forward, elbows on knees. He took off his ball cap and ran a hand over his shiny pate. "But I'm not sure I want it to get easier, y'know?"

The all-weather cushion squeaked under Kurt's head as he turned to look at his dad. "Why wouldn't you want it to get easier?"

"Cause if it stopped hurting, that would be like we stopped caring. Like we started to forget. Think about it." His eyebrows raised in challenge. "Your mom's been gone twenty-three years, Kurt. Has that stopped hurting?"

"No, Dad. Of course not." He couldn't imagine that he'd ever think of his mom without a touch of sadness. Even his very best memories of her—faded to mere impressions over the years—were tinted with her loss.

"Does it hurt the same way now, that it did when you were eight?" his dad asked.

He shook his head with a small smile as the door slid open again and Carole stepped out. "Ready to go, gentlemen?"

Having learned his lesson the day before, Kurt didn't wear his nice shoes to the beach for their walk. Instead he slipped on sandals, then ended up taking those off and carrying them in his hand before they'd gone very far. The sand was damp and slightly cold under his feet, just as it had been during yoga yesterday, but it was still a source of astonishment to him that he could go barefoot at all in late March.

"I'm surprised you're letting your toes get that dirty, Kurt."

"Would you believe that I sat down in the sand yesterday, Dad? Of course, there were brownies on offer."

"Being offered by a really cute guy, hmm?" Carole looped an arm through his and forced him to slow his long strides to match hers as they walked together.

"Cute, totally hot, adorable, easy to talk to…were you trying to set me up all along, Carole?"

"I can see I'm going to be left behind in this conversation real quick," Burt muttered, ambling along on Carole's other side. Kurt leaned forward to look past her at his dad.

"Did you know about Carole's plans to set me up, Dad?"

"I know nothing, kid. Totally innocent."

"Well, you haven't mentioned dating anyone seriously for a while, Kurt. And we happened to be down on the beach early one morning when he was jogging and got talking to him. He seems like a nice young man. You must have gotten a good first impression too, since you ran off to a lunch date with him before you'd even been here a full day."

"Hey, I apologized for not being here yesterday. And I'm here today, right?"

"Yes, you are, and I'm thankful. Glad to have one of my sons here." She sighed, and Burt threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close against his side, bending his head down to talk to her softly.

Kurt stepped away on pretext of picking up a peach-colored shell fragment, turning it over in his hands as they stopped walking, heads still close, their backs to him. Kurt waited a few feet away. They were hardly unaware of his presence but they needed a moment alone.

It never ceased to amaze Kurt, how his Dad was such a rock for Carole on this day each year. He knew his dad had his own pain. He'd thought of Finn as a son and mourned his loss as well, but he put his own grief aside to be strong for his wife. But then, Kurt had also seen what a rock Carole was, for him and his dad, on the anniversary of his mother's death each year.

Seventeen years, the two of them had been together. Kurt had never had a relationship that lasted seventeen months. Seventeen weeks? Maybe? It was hard to remember, it all blurred together. He'd dated lots of guys in New York.

He could barely remember the fresh-faced, naïve boy he'd been when he'd gone there with Rachel, so desperately hoping to find what everyone else had seemed to have so easily in high school, and all around him in Lima. All his friends dated, and hooked up and had sex, and were able to attend their prom in couples….except him. As the only out gay boy at his school, he'd been outside all that.

He'd wanted so badly for things to be different during his college years. He was in New York, after all. Surely he'd find the epic love story he'd dreamed of since he was small?

But reality turned out to be rather different, as Kurt gradually came to understand that his lack of dating opportunities hadn't been due solely to the scarcity of out gay boys in Lima. It was also that romance seemed to be dead. Instead of a three-hour Technicolor film, what he got was a commercial for condoms. It wasn't so hard to meet guys—half the male students at NYADA were gay—but he always got the feeling they were looking for a quick hook-up, and his eighteen- year-old self resolved to hold out for something real, something that could lead to seventeen years of marriage and the kind of support he saw his parents demonstrating in front of him now.

And then Finn passed away, and Kurt drowned under the tidal wave of emotion surrounding the funeral, and the cleaning out of Finn's room, and all the other rituals of death that he'd been too young to really notice when he'd lost his mom. And when he returned to New York to finish out the semester, he felt hollowed out, wrung dry of all emotion. It was difficult to even fake sufficient emotion for his assigned scenes in acting classes….but those emotions weren't his. They belonged to the character he was playing. He could manage that. His own emotions, though…

When Adam, who'd asked him out several times before Finn's death, asked him again, Kurt had accepted. And woke up the next morning in his bed, a bit freaked out by what he'd done but nevertheless remembering the night before and knowing that he'd felt something. His emotions weren't broken. He could still feel. Maybe it was only a shadowy imitation of what he'd once hoped for from his first time, but then again, how could he really know what he was supposed to feel? He had nothing to compare it to.

That morning had been awkward at first, but Adam had been kind and patient. Kurt didn't feel any great rush of romance for him, but he was grateful just to have someone to hold him close in the night.

They'd dated for a few months, until Adam decided to move back to his native England and try launching his career on the West End. Kurt had been relieved in a way. By then he knew that he'd never have his epic love story with Adam, but he had no concrete reason to break up the relationship either. It was just comfortable, that's all.

And after Adam….Kurt sighed, flipping the shell in his hand one last time before tossing it out in the ocean. There were a thousand more shells just like it at his feet, just like there were thousands of gay boys in New York. He'd dated, flirted with, and hooked up with quite a few of them. He'd felt guilty sometimes, recalling his Dad's words on the humiliating day they'd had The Talk. Don't throw yourself around like you don't matter. Because you matter, Kurt. But it hadn't felt like throwing himself around. It was more like reaching out, over and over, taking the hand that grabbed his and hoping, this time, that the other person wouldn't let go.

"Hey, Kurt! You coming?"

The moment seemed to be over. Kurt tried to summon up a smile and rejoined them to continue the slow amble down the beach.

Carole, eyes still a little watery but forcing a smile, took his arm again. "So, Kurt…where did you go on your lunch date with Blaine? I want all the details!"

"Maybe not all of them," his dad muttered.

"Relax, Dad, it was completely G-rated," Kurt assured him, knowing he wasn't entirely comfortable with what he knew of Kurt's dating life in NYC. He turned back to Carole, willing to provide her with a play-by-play if it would provide the distraction she clearly needed. "What would you like to know?"

"Where did you go?" She squeezed his arm once.

"Have you heard of Fort Macon?"

The late afternoon sun was slanting through the floor-to ceiling windows when Carole excused herself, saying that she had a slight headache and wanted to lie down for a bit. Kurt watched his dad's eyes track her out of the room. He was clearly concerned but willing to let her have her space.

Kurt was feeling a bit drained himself. It had been an emotionally exhausting afternoon, filled with memories of Finn, the messages from his high school friends, and the video call with Rachel. Kurt was starting to wish the day would end already, so he could go to bed and then wake up tomorrow morning, on a day that was not the anniversary of his brother's death. Just a normal day.

His dad slumped in the largest recliner across from him, letting his always-present cap slip down over his eyes, as Kurt curled into the end of the couch.

"How's your show going?" Burt asked idly.

"Fine. We're probably closing at the end of our originally scheduled run though."

"Don't sound so fine to me." Hazel eyes regarded him from under the hat brim. "If it's going fine, why are you closing?"

Kurt sighed. "Shows close for all kinds of reasons, Dad. Doesn't always mean it's not a good show. This show—it's amazing, but it's…." He trailed off. How to explain this to his dad, who even after all these years didn't have the most extensive theatre knowledge? "It's a very thinky show, Dad. And it has its heavy side. It's not the light-hearted, spectacle-laden blockbuster musical that's going to run for years and years so that every new wave of tourists can flock to see it."

"Hmm. So what's next for you then? Auditioning for the next show?"

"I suppose, if anything comes up that I'm suited for."

"It will," Burt said without hesitation.

Kurt let the silence stretch between them for a moment before he said it. "I'm not so sure, Dad."

"What do you mean? You've never had too much trouble finding your next job." His dad sat up slightly in his chair, paying more attention now.

"It's just…I'm not even sure if I want to look for that next job." The words sounded strange, now that they were out, and Kurt realized it was the first time he'd said it out loud. He'd been thinking about it for a while, but hadn't broached the topic with Rachel or any of his other theatre friends. With the single-minded focus on 'making it' on Broadway, he didn't think the conversation would get too far. But his dad though, he'd always been Kurt's safe place.

"You've told me before that if you can't land that next role, you can't pay rent. So what are you thinking you'll do if you aren't working on stage?"

"Oh, you know…go home to Ohio, move back into my old room, mooch off you and Carole." He gave a careless shrug to the ceiling.

Burt harrumphed, not impressed in the slightest. "That's one thing I don't worry about, Kurt. I lost you to New York before you even moved there. The longest relationship you've had in that city, has been with the city."

Kurt chuckled despite himself. "I've never thought of it that way, but you're not wrong, Dad."

"So what are you thinking, Kurt? You gonna leave behind the bright lights? Do something else? You know I'll support you in anything you want to do, but I have a hard time imagining you doing anything else. You've worked so long for it."

"But that's just it, Dad. It's been a decade now. I didn't even think about it till I was talking to Blaine yesterday, and realized just how long it's been. And if I thought I had anything to prove, that I could 'make it' on Broadway as a career or whatever, I think I've done that. A decade of paying my own bills by working on Broadway, nothing left to prove there, is there?"

His dad waited a moment, knowing he wasn't done, then finally prompted him. "But?"

Kurt sighed again. "But if my goal was to 'make it' on Broadway, in the sense of being a household name, or having my name in lights on the marquee, or winning a Tony…at this point, I'm not sure any of those things are going to happen. It's been ten years, Dad, and I've had more dance injuries than I can count on my two hands, I've been rejected a hundred times for every one time I've gotten a paying job. I'm tired, Dad. Feels like I fight all the time, and when I was twenty the fight was exciting. Now…it's just exhausting."

"Knew it," Burt muttered, but there was a certain triumph in his tone.

That wasn't the response Kurt expected. "Excuse me? Knew what?"

"I said when I picked you up from the airport, that you were tired, that you've been tired for months. I….was…right!" A finger wag accompanied the last three words.

"Oh my God, Dad. I pour my heart out to you and all you can say is 'I was right'?"

Burt spread his hands. "Just sayin'"

Kurt rolled his eyes, straightening his legs down the length of the couch. "Are you done congratulating yourself?"

"Yeah, I'm done. So back to my question—what are you going to do with yourself if you're not working on Broadway? I don't believe for a second that you're going to move back to Ohio, so I'm assuming you'd want to stay in New York?"

"Yeah. It's home now, Dad. Not that Lima isn't home," he hastened to assure him, "but Lima is home because you and Carole are there. New York is home because…" He smiled. "It's mine."

"I get it, Kurt. So what else is there for a NYADA grad to do in the big city? Do you want to teach theatre?"

"God no, I'd never have the patience for that." Kurt shuddered at the thought. New York kids were some of the brattiest, most self-indulged kids he'd ever seen anywhere. And the theatre kids were the worst—pretentious and full of themselves. He'd never been like that, had he? He looked up and realized that his dad was still waiting. "Actually, umm…I've been thinking about a different career in the theatre."

"I'm listening."

"Well, you know how I've always had an interest in fashion?"

Burt's turn for the eye roll. "Yeah, I seem to remember buying you a subscription to Vogue for a year or two…or ten."

"Well, I've always gotten along well with the costume designers and other wardrobe staff at every show I've worked on. I can actually talk to them about the clothes, unlike most of the cast who just wear the costume and don't give a second thought to the design of it, or construction, or the fashion history of the time period in which the show is set."

Burt was nodding. "I think I see where you're going with this."

Kurt bit his lip, smiling a little. "I've had more than one costume designer or wardrobe head tell me throughout the years, that if I wanted to make the switch from on stage to backstage, they'd find a job for me."

Burt nodded, eyes serious on him. "And do you think that would make you happy?"

"Won't know till I try, but…I think there's a good chance, yeah."

"Well, like I said, you always have my support." Burt clapped his hands to his knees and stood up from his chair. "I should go check on Carole."

Kurt closed his eyes, listening to the soft shush of footsteps across the carpet, the opening and closing of a door down the hall. He focused on his breathing, on relaxing muscle groups one at a time, trying to recapture that sleep-loose feeling from this morning. Maybe he could nap. He hadn't had an afternoon nap in years.

He yawned, rolled over on his side, pulled the throw pillow under his head almost nuzzling into it…his phone vibrated in his pocket. His only reaction was to sigh internally. He could answer the text later. It vibrated again. And again.

Dammit. Probably Rachel. She couldn't wait for tomorrow to grill him. He gritted his teeth, reaching into his pocket without opening his eyes, only squinting with one eye once the phone was in front of his face.

From Blaine:

You doing anything tonight?

From Blaine:

I know you wanted to spend today with your family, but if by chance you're done, my cousin and I are playing music at The Dock House in Beaufort tonight.

From Blaine:

Love for you to come.

Kurt blinked his eyes fully open, sitting up to unlock his phone and type a response.

I think I can get away. Time? Address?

He headed for his room without waiting for an answer, already thinking about which clothes he'd brought and how to tell his dad he was leaving for the evening. Maybe this day could have some good in it after all.


I'd hoped to have this chapter up several days ago, and obviously that didn't happen. I'm going to stop making predictions on when the next chapter might be up. I'm still dealing with some very stressful circumstances in my personal life, and working on this story in my limited free time. All I'll say is that each chapter will be up as quickly as I can manage it.

Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated!