A/N: I suppose this is just a filler chapter, I just wanted to write something and then this happened. It's purely Finn and Kurt's relationship based because I love them and think that this story is canon - when it's not. Please enjoy and review, it makes me happy and I do this stupid little fangirling dance.

Glee is not mine, neither is Kurt Hummel or Finn Hudson.

When the big piece of text is written like this, it's Finn having a flashback just so you know :)

Kurt's dreams were getting worse and worse by the day; his sleeping patterns were well and truly fucked. I had gotten used to his occasional sleep walking habits now, so had my mom. But now-a-days they were becoming more and more frequent – that's the right word, right?

I would wake up and find him in the oddest places and situations, it was freaky and the fact that I had once watched Paranormal Activity with him late at night one Friday didn't help my imagination. You've seen that film right? Yeah, about 70% of me was convinced Kurt was possessed by a demon.

Some nights weren't that bad; he'd sleep walk his way to the bathroom and I'd find him fast asleep in the bath, fully clothed with no water in the morning; or he'd get up and sit on the couch downstairs or sit at the table in the kitchen; he sometimes sat at his desk and would doodle things, sometimes they were creepy, sometimes they were stars are stuff. He'd wake up in the morning and not have a single clue why he was sitting there; he couldn't even remember what he'd been dreaming. I'd convinced myself that this was better than him remembering, since they were usually horrible, horrible dreams.

One night he went downstairs and watched season three of Scrubs, all night. I actually went and sat with him and watched him watch it, simply because it was like he was awake – but he wasn't. It was so creepy; he was just watching it, didn't laugh or anything; just starred.

But the creepiest nights were the ones where everyone would wake up worried, Burt would occasionally get frantic and not know what to do and my mom would start crying.

Sometimes he'd be asleep and then suddenly wake up screaming, like fully hysterically screaming. He'd brake down crying and shaking and he would get himself into these states where nothing would calm him down. I had gotten used to it, but it still freaked the shit out of me when it happened, and I hated seeing him like that. It really scared me. My mom and Burt would come in and we'd all just hold him. We than had a habit of all going into Mom and Burt's room and we'd set up some mattresses on the floor for Kurt and I; and we'd just talk all night long until Kurt felt safe to go back to sleep again.

Other times were worse. One night I woke up alone and I didn't get that worried, I knew he'd be downstairs somewhere or in the bath again – so I went and checked all his usual places and nothing. I started shouting for him and woke Mom and Burt up to help look for him; we spent literally two and a half hours looking for him and we thought he had run away which bought on tears from us all.

I went to check the basement even though we always locked it up; Kurt was clearly a skilled sleepwalker so nothing really surprised us. I hated the basement at night, it was dark and scary and things could easily lurk... It was nothing like Kurt's – I liked Kurt's basement, it was my second home. I loved his room, it was white and simple but little outbursts of 'Kurt' would pop out here and there. This room however, was old and gloomy, full of old stuff we didn't use anymore, my dad's old stuff, some old toys – Eugh toys are never good late at night in a dark basement. Ok, stop thinking, you're creeping yourself out.

I turned on the light by the side of the basement door which didn't serve much of a purpose, it flicked a bit along with my heart. I watched too many horror movies, maybe I should stop. Now I knew what Kurt felt like when I made him watch them and he'd curl up into my side and bury his face. It was extremely cold down there, like a whole different climate to the remainder of the house. I shuddered and looked around, just checking if things were, you know, lurking...

I stepped down the stairs slowly, each one creaking as I expected but it still sent shivers up my spine and the hairs on my arms came to attention. I reached the brighter lamp which sat on the level floor and turned it on as quickly as I possibly could. The room was still silent though, no amount of light could kill the screaming silence. I walked across the basement floor looking around and then I came to stop.

"Kurt..." I whimpered.

He was sat on the chest in front of the mirror, both of which were my dad's. He had his plain black boxers on and a shirt, which I soon realised he wasn't wearing when we went to bed. I edged closer, he must've still been asleep (or possessed), and I was scared. God, I failed as a protective boyfriend, huh?

He turned at looked at me; he looked at me right in the eyes. His blue eyes weren't as shiny and deep and open as they usually were which scared me.

"Mom, I found him! He's down here, hurry up!" I said raising my voice, I heard footsteps above me and I felt safer knowing I wasn't alone.

"Funny, isn't it?" He spoke in his usual pondering tone as he turned back to the mirror and mumbled; "I'm sorry, Finn."

This time it was different. He never spoke when he sleep walked, not ever. He'd sleep talk, yes, occasionally I heard things I wasn't meant to hear but this was different. Every time he'd sleep walk he would never make eye contact, for starters, he would simply walk past you or into you; but he looked me right in the eyes, he knew I was there.

And now he was talking to me, it was a deep thought. A deep Kurt-like thought which you thought meant one thing but it turns out it meant something completely different. And he was looking in my dad's old mirror, mirrors were creepy enough but I don't know – I can't explain it.

Then he collapsed.

"Kurt!" I shouted as I ran over to him. "Mom! Burt! Someone! Help me!" I shouted upwards hoping it would reach through the floorboards.

"Honey, what is it?" My mom said, running down the basement stairs worried. She took one look and ran over to us, "Burt, give Finn a hand. Take Kurt up to the couch and we'll get him a drink or something."

We settled him on the couch and let him have some alone time with his dad. He was still unconscious or sleeping or possessed. I didn't know anymore, I was just constantly shaking. My mom was hugging me tightly in the kitchen, whispering me sweet nothings.

"It was just really weird. Mom, he was wearing dad's shirt." I whispered.

"Honey, I know. But he was asleep, he wouldn't do it on purpose." She smiled and brushed her hand across my cheek, "just like you wouldn't go in his hope chest without asking."

That was true; I never touched it or even asked about it because it upset him whenever his mother was mentioned.

In the morning when I asked Kurt about it, he didn't remember anything apart from the fact that his toes were cold all night. He started crying when I told him what had happened, only because he felt so guilty that he'd gone into my dad's stuff – something I could barely do.

"It's getting really bad, babe."

"I know," he sighed, "I'm feeling more and more tired by the hour which is mad considering I'm sleeping while all these things are going on."

"Maybe we should go to the doctors? See if he can get you a sleeping pill or something?" I suggested as Kurt came back into the room with a box of strawberries.

He came over to the sofa where I was spread out, relaxing, and hitched one of his legs over my body so he was straddling my waist.

Shaking his head he said; "Nothing works, my dad and I asked a while ago and they gave me the strongest sleeping pill possible and I slept right through it - waking up in the car that time..." His gaze went distant and had obviously started to remember the night when he went and slept in the car.

I saw this moment as a moment to take, so while he wasn't really there I reached up and grabbed a few strawberries.

"Hey! They're not for you," Kurt said hitting me playfully and taking them from my hands and eating them himself.

Only when I started pouting and pulling a puppy face did he sigh and feed me a few, which I returned with a dopy smile and a giggle.

I admired him for a few moments, watching him eat the strawberries with so much precision. His mouth soon became red and cold, and his lips were more moisturised than when he used his chapstick. He'd moved onto the next flavour of chapstick, just so you know. He'd gone through his Sprite one and through an Orange one and now he was using an Oreo flavoured one shipped over from Europe or something. I couldn't object it made his lips taste so much better than usual.

"What?" He said laughing, "What are you starring at?" He said looking around the rest of the house.

"You."

"Oh." He blushed so hard.

"Kurt?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, Finn?"

"Do you ever, urm, think about the future and stuff?" I asked looking away from his eyes, embarrassed.

"In what context?" He asked putting the strawberries down and picking at strands of my hair.

"You know, after school, like a job and a family and stuff?"

He laughed; "Yes, more and more so since I've been with you."

"Oh, I'm sorry"

"No, don't be sorry," he said shaking his head. "I mean I've always wanted to be star – you know that – but it won't happen as easily as I want it too. Fashion is my life and it's where I truly belong; but if I had a choice of a family or a career, I'd have a family any day."

"You mean like a child?"

He nodded shyly. "A child, a husband, a house and white picket fence, a nice garden, average car or a big yellow truck," he laughed. "I know everyone thinks I'm a bitch and I'm cold hearted because I over criticise people –"

"- I don't." I pitched in and he smiled at me, embarrassed.

"Oh stop! No, but seriously, although people think that, a family is something I've always wanted – I've just never told anyone because I don't think people expect me to find it because I'm the only gay man in this town," he paused, "apart from you."

I laughed at him and reached up to give him a peck on the lips. He hummed against my lips and pulled away:

"What bought this on anyway, Finn?"

I shrugged; "I don't know I was just wondering, I mean there isn't long left until we leave McKinley; and you're a cold hearted bitch so I was wondering if you ever going to find someone," I joked and he hit me playfully.

"God, how do you do these things to me? You're so annoyingly perfect, Finn Hudson." He said kissing me again.

"I don't know, I just am." I smiled smugly.

He giggled and leant back against my bent legs, perching him perfectly on top of me.

"So tell me, about your plans for this family you want," I asked.

"Err, I-I don't that's a good idea," he said fumbling the hem of his shirt.

"Why not? I want to know what makes you happy, Kurt."

"It's just... embarrassing; you'll think I'm pathetic."

"I promise I won't." I held his hands still and linked out fingers.

"Well, I want to get married, strangely – I never thought I would want to but since being with you and having someone want you back helps you have a clear mind and I like what we have so having that permanently with someone really makes me smile. So I'd like to get married someday. Like properly married, a real wedding – him in a black suit and myself in a white one." He said sweetly, clearly ignoring the urge to burst out all his wedding plans which had been heavily influenced by his secret stash of wedding magazines under his bed.

The contents under Kurt's bed always gave me a serious case of the giggles; he had his tiara collection which he managed to get back from his Dad after days of constant begging, the wedding magazines which I knew he'd indulge in when I was asleep or in the shower – he'd say he was planning for Mom and Burt but I knew he wasn't really; then he had his porn collection which made me laugh so much, because this was Kurt we were talking about and it still felt weird thinking about him and his porn collection... Then he had this little box full of cassette tapes, each one containing a different Broadway show – he would get a new one every year from his parents. Come to think of it, the things under his bed were some of the only things that calmed him down.

Note to self: remember to use things from under Kurt's bed when he sleepwalks.

"I like black suits," I said quietly which got a strange but hopeful look from Kurt. Yes, I did just imply I wanted to marry him.

"And then a honeymoon in Europe – we'd go to Paris, London, Barcelona, Rome, Venice and Berlin. Half of the honeymoon will be spent seeing all the amazing historical sites, seeing shows – I love Shakespeare so that's already decided, and then the other half will be spent in bed, just lounging about basking in the memories of sex and each other." Kurt trailed off again clearly thinking about his future honeymoon.

"I suppose I could get into Shakespeare," I said shrugging, I think Kurt was getting the hints now. "What about the child you want?"

"I haven't decided that yet, I really want to be a father that's for sure. But I can't decide whether I want to adopt or have a surrogate like Rachel's parents did. I have this dream that if I went for a surrogate we'd have two children, one using my sperm and one using yours," he hesitated on 'yours', he must've been worried that I'd freak out.

"That's sweet, you're sweet. But I don't want a child like Rachel," I shuddered at her name.

Kurt laughed; "Come on honey, do you really think we'd raise a child like Rachel? Hell no, I would never let that happen, ever!" Kurt shouted and starting waving his arms about, I laughed at him.

"You know, you'd be a great dad, Kurt." I said honestly, looking him in the eyes.

"Not without you, I wouldn't. If I'm honest, we'd both be great parents, raise them well and truthfully; but I'm not ready to be a father just yet, and neither are you – after last year. So let's just not think about that for a while," Kurt sighed.

"The future scares you, doesn't it?"

He sighed again; "Only because I'm terrified you won't be in it." He looked down and shut his eyes tightly.

"If you want me there, I'll be there without a doubt. I promise," I said brushing his cheeks with my thumbs and reaching up to kiss him softly.

I could feel him smile into it, and his breathing became more relaxed that it ever has. His grip on my neck grew tighter and he put his forehead against mine and whispered things to me that made me smile brightly. Kurt brushed his hands through my hair as we traded soft kisses.

"Can I ask you something again?" I whispered into his lips and he nodded faintly.

"I-I think I'm ready," I said quietly, he knew what I was talking about it.

"F-for what?" He whispered back, nervously.

"You know what for, Kurt. I've been ready for a while, you have too you're just too afraid to admit it."

"Finn, we don't have to have sex to be a real couple, we don't have to do that. I don't you to feel like you have to do this, when you don't." He said, stuttering through his reply.

"Kurt, I want to. I'm not going to run away or anything like that; I just want to please you."

"You're pleasing me already, honestly, Finn."

"Do you not want to?" I asked, scared that it was true.

"Oh, God. Finn, yes, yes of course I do! I just don't want you to feel like you have to because I want to," he said squeezing my hand.

"Like I said: I want to, Kurt." He smiled at me and leaned forward to hug me tightly.

"I love you, Finn." He whispered and looked me in the eyes before snuggling down into my chest and breathing softly.

"So I tell you I want sex and you go to sleep for the first time in the past few weeks!" I said jokingly, kissing his head.

He giggled and 'shh'-ed me, drawing shapes on my chest.

"I love you, too Kurt." I whispered as he slowly dropped off to sleep.

It was the first full night's sleep Kurt, Burt, Mom and I had had in the last month or so; the best thing was that it carried on; he hardly woke up any more. It was strange that it stopped but Burt had mention to my Mom one night in the kitchen that it was because he knew the anniversary of his mom's death was soon coming up – Kurt tended to get stressed during that time.