I don't own glee...

A/N: Okay, okay I know I haven't posted any new chapters and I'm a jerk because I left you all hanging, but I'm back now so read and review please.

I said read and review PLEASE. So DO THAT!

Uh, oh! Mom's dead. It's shit, man.

Emma comforts Finn that night when he is restless.

"Just remember that everything will get better, and there is no reason, honey, for you to worry."

He tells her how much he loves her.

"...Mama."

He loves her, really. He really loves her, like a lot.

Maybe they could be family or something.

And that's what you missed last chapter.

Santana cried out angrily, "No! I never want to see you again!"

Will peeked through the doorway to see Santana on the phone.

"You've made my life a living Hell!"

Will walked up to her as she hung up. "Hey, everything good?"

She flicked a tear from her eyelash, and calmly though rudely murmured, "You think?! She bawled quietly for a moment, then sniffled, "I just got off the phone with my dad. You think everything's okay?"

"Le'mme guess, you and your dad kind of have some problems, eh?"

"No shit. I regret even answering the call. I regret ever even talking to him. I regret ever even freaking knowing him."

"It's-"

"No. I know that talking makes people feel better, but thi-this i-is just something that nothing can help."

Will closed his eyes and sighed. What was he to do?

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Will asked the kids to go upstairs so he could have a talk with Emma.

"I don't know what to do next. The mom is dead. The dad is the only hope they have, but a few of the kids decided that it's best he stays out of their lives. I am honestly stuck."

"I have to talk to you about something that happened last night," Emma said.

She then heard an almost silent but painful cry. Her mother instincts kicked in as she grew anxious. She recognised the voice - it was Artie! She rushed upstairs to help the boy.

"Emma, where are you going?" Will called.

Emma found the bathroom and struggled to force the door open. She looked through a hole in the door to find Artie.

Artie held his injured arm out in front of him, with a pair of scizzors in the other hand. He stared at the blood leaking from his wound, wincing between breaths. He glimpsed at the red blade of the scizzors before he scraped it across his wrist.

"Ah," she heard, a little louder that the first cry.

"Artie, open this door now." Emma stayed calm, trying to keep Artie calm. When she got no response, her voice grew firm. "I know you're in there. Open the door."

He shed a tear, taking a good look at what he'd done to himself.

"Artie Abrams!"

He was scared by her tone. He knew she was pissed at him for this. He knew she could see what he was doing through the hole in the door.

"Open this door. You're not in trouble, I just want to see if you're okay."

She was aware that the boy was doing this, and she had to coax him to stop.

He wondered if it hurt her to see him like this, in this terrible, sad condition. But it didn't stop him, because now he was worrying only about himself. He sliced his arm once again, fousing on how much it hurt.

He then heard Will's voice. "What's going on in there, Artie? Artie?" Will knocked the door down and dashed over to Artie.

Will fought to snatch the scizzors from Artie while Emma rolled him into the corner of the bathroom.

Will tossed the scizzors into the sink.

Emma asked, "Why were you doing this?"

Artie glanced at his arm, going to touch the bloody marks.

"Why, honey?"

"The stress. Just too much for me. My dad's coming back into my life, my..." he said, the rest as incomprehensible sobs.

Will steadily murmured, "Dude, what do you think you're doing? I thought you were stronger than this."

Emma poured rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball and dabbed the wet wad onto his sores.

Artie flinched at the way it burned. The intensity of the alcohol wasn't as terrible as how the scizzor blade felt, but it was all he had been paying attention to.

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At dinner, a huge discussion heated up. The talk soon became a fight.

Will yelled, "Okay, guys! Guys!"

"Yes?"

"If you guys don't want your dad to come back, then I guess that getting your family back together is no longer an option. I spoke to Emma earlier today, and we both agreed on something."

"I know a few of you are pretty close to Will and I," Emma remarked, "but for the rest of you, I'm not sure."

Santana stated, "I like you guys, a lot."

Sam smiled, "I do too."

Artie nodded.

"You taught me that hope and faith is important," Puck said, "and that you don't have to give up on everything. Also, you made me realize that... if you cry, it doesn't always mean you're a sissy."

Brittany's eyes widened. "It would be a pretty awesome threesome, but I think you guys are a little old for me. I mean, come on, two 30 year olds and a 16 year old...? It would be weird."

"Uh... Okay...?" said Sam's eyes.

Will breathed in, readying himself to say what he was about to say. "How would you feel if Emma and I..."

Finn swallowed a mouthful of saliva, his muscles stiff.