This is the last chapter. Wow.

I was saying last night on Tumblr that this is weirdly bittersweet for me. The ending of this story was natural and planned for most of the writing. This is truly how I wanted things to turn out. I don't think I could have milked any more chapters out of this story if I wanted to.

But that doesn't mean I won't miss writing it.

As I always do, I want to thank Miranda. Without her, this story would have probably been a hot mess all the way through. She knows how much I appreciate her help and support.

And I have to thank every single person who has read. Whether you've read one chapter or all of it. Whether you've reviewed or not, I appreciate it all.

I would say I'm going to take a break after this whirlwind of a story, but that's not true. My next story is going to called "The Modern Leper" and the first chapter will probably be posted in the next few days.

If you want updates on what I'm writing or you want to hear me talk about Glee and much, much more you can follow me on Tumblr. I'm holidaysfromreality there as well.

Finally, the quote used in this chapter was made by Helen Keller.

Alright, I'm done being all sappy. I'll try to hold it in. Now, on with the show.


The entire house was up early the morning of the funeral. Though the Cohen-Chang's house wasn't that big, a lot of the family members that traveled for the service were staying on air mattresses in various rooms around the house. Thankfully, no one had been assigned to sleep on Tina's floor. Despite that, she was still up at seven in the morning. The house was positively buzzing with pre-funeral jitters.

The children in the house, who she could hear running around in the living room just below her, were playing some kind of game involving animal noises. She wished she could be as naïve as them. They didn't know what death was and therefore, this occasion was just a chance to play with their cousins.

She pulled her hair back into a ponytail so she could look at least halfway decent when she went down in search of food and tea. Just as she was about to leave, her door opened. Her father set a tray with a pancakes and a bowl of fruit on it, a glass of orange juice perched in the corner, and a teacup on the other side. "It's probably best if you stay up here," he told her, "It's a mad house down there. I almost lost an arm trying to get you those pancakes."

A smile formed across her lips, "Thanks, Dad."

Her father sat down on the bed as she did as well, "How are you feeling about all this?"

"It hasn't really sunk in quite yet."

"I was surprised when you didn't go running off to see Artie since…" His sentence cut off right there.

"I went to see him after I found out," she admitted, picking at one of the pancakes with her fingers, "I don't really think that anything is going to happen there."

"We, your mother and I, want you to know that we're sorry. We shouldn't have made you do something that we were guilty of as well."

"It's okay," she said, smiling sadly, "I think…I think it was good that I was with Mike, for a while. It was kind of fun while it lasted." Her father raised an eyebrow, "The other night, before his parents came over."

Mike's family had come over every night this week to help out where they could, but Mike himself had yet to show. She didn't blame him, really. However good of terms they ended on, it was still weird. Awkward.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she assured him, "Mike…he always knew that my feelings for him would never be as strong as the ones I felt for Artie."

"We just want you to be happy."

"I know," she said, "I've learned from all this that sometimes things just have to take a detour. Maybe Artie and I will never be the same, but…maybe the same wouldn't have worked for us."

Her father didn't say anything about that, but did offer a smile, "Well, I have to get back downstairs. Can you be ready to go in an hour?"

She nodded as he left the room. The day of closure had begun.

Tina ate while sifting through her clothes for something decent to wear. Sure, a lot of her clothing met the black dress-code that most funerals required, but she felt like most of her dresses and skirts were too short for this occasion. She finally settled on the skirt she wore for the "Dream A Little Dream" number and a short sleeved ruffle top. She pulled her clothing on slowly, making sure everything was in place perfect before putting on a coat of red lipstick and light eye make-up. She knew most of it would melt off anyway over the course of the day.
The limousine rented to take them to the funeral only held ten, so it was just her and her parents, her uncle plus his wife and their four children, and Mike's grandparents. The car ride to the funeral home was nearly silent, except for the rare observation between long pauses of nothing.

Upon arriving, Tina didn't really know what to do, so her mother told her to sit down next to the guest book, and have everyone who entered sign it. It seemed like an easy enough job.
Mike showed up with his parents after she had been sitting for about half an hour. While his parents went off to find hers, he stood in front of her, somewhat awkwardly, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied.

"Everyone in glee misses you," he told her, reaching into his jacket's inside pocket and pulling out an envelope, "We all signed this for you." It was a simple sympathy card with her friends names written around and under: I am so sorry for your loss. The envelope also contained eleven index cards, all of them filled with a message from each glee club member.

"This is really, really nice, Mike," she said, putting all the papers back in the envelope and stowing it with her purse, "I'll have to text everybody and thank them."

"You don't have to. They know."

"I will anyway," she told him, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him in a hug, "Thank you for coming."
"Our families have been best friends for generations. I kinda had to."

"Yeah, well. Still. Thanks," she said. She looked over his shoulder to see Artie, of all people, wheeling into the funeral hall.

He looked nice—put together. He was wearing straight black pants and a suit jacket. She knew, because it was Artie, that he was probably wearing suspenders underneath, where no one could see.

Mike touched her shoulder, "You should go over there."

"I'll see you inside," she said, smiling.

He nodded at her and quickly jotted his name down in the guestbook before going inside to sit with his parents in the second row. The rows were beginning to fill up now.
Tina walked over to Artie and said, "I wasn't expecting you to come."

"I wasn't either, really," he admitted, "But Kurt told me that it was today and…I just felt like I should. I figured you could use a friend here."

She gave him a half smile, "It's nice to see you."

Her eyes darted to the bouquet of flowers sitting in his lap. "Here," he said, holding them out to her, "These are for you."

"They're gorgeous, Artie. Thank you."

"They all mean something," he said, "The aloe is for grief and the bay leaf is for strength. The zinnias mean thinking of an absent friend, but I think it works for an absent family member too. And the forget-me-nots are for memories. The roses are for love, but mostly they're just there because they're pretty."

"You knew all that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him with a small laugh.

"Well, no," he said sheepishly, looking down at his lap, "The woman in the flower shop told me all that."

Artie's mother had suggested getting flowers and she hadn't thought he was going to take her seriously. The woman in the flower shop had been helpful, if not a little pushy. She convinced him to get all the flowers with their different meanings, throwing a couple of roses when she convinced him to tell her that they were for a girl.

He smiled and adjusted his glasses as she put the flowers with the rest of the arrangements so they couldn't get ruined or forgotten. She would make sure that this particular bouquet would end up in her room. Maybe she'd get out an old book and press them so she could always have them.

"Listen," he said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, "After this, do you maybe wanna come over to my house and watch a movie or something?"

She nodded. She got behind his chair and started pushing him toward the front row, where her family was sitting. She made her way to the chair on the end of the outside aisle, so his chair wouldn't get in the way, and put him so he was on a slight angle so they were facing each other a bit. It felt…right, pushing his chair and talking to him again, like being back where she belonged.

Today was a day of closure, for so many things in Tina's life. When someone dies, there's usually that process of grief turning into acceptance, and that will happen in due time. This will not be taken lightly, because it just can't be. But she's a teenager, it will happen more quickly for her. She has glee club and her friends, things to distract, things to focus on. She has eleven friends that will help her whenever things get to be too much.

She has the rest of her life to focus on right now. She'll be taking the SATs soon and applying to college. In two years, she'll probably be out of her parents house, if things go the way she wants. And she probably won't be in Lima anymore either. She is destined for bigger things.

And are those things with Artie? She doesn't know. She doesn't know what's going to happen in the next minute, the next hour, the next year. She could see it rain frogs or have another family member die or get pregnant by immaculate conception. Anything is possible.

She had spent the last few months trapped by her family and by her lies and now was really the first time she could breath easily about her situation in so long. It seemed like things were started to get better.
As the service started, Artie reached over and slipped his hand into hers, intertwining their fingers.

She looked over at him and he smiled as his thumb began a pattern of slow circles across the back of her hand.

The pastor cleared his throat and said, "Although the world is full of suffering, it also full of overcoming it."