(Author's note: I'm in the midst of NaNoWriMo, writing the next project at the same time I'm working on finishing this, so apologies for the delay. There are two more chapters after this. Warnings about references to slave training and D/s. -amy)
Five minutes before they had intended to take a break, Adam blew out a breath, digging in the pocket of his sweaty leather pants. Of all the band members, Tommy was the only one to react, sighing loudly and glaring at Adam. The others waited patiently as he pushed the microphone aside.
"I just have to — my cell phone's gone off six times since we started rehearsing "Music Again." That's got to mean something. They wouldn't bother me in when I'm getting ready for a performance unless it was important. And they're at their own performance, so…" He turned away from the door, hiding his face from stray cameras, and reviewed his texts. "Oh."
"That didn't sound like a good oh," Tommy said.
Adam laughed. "Yeah, I'm sorry… Quinn had the baby, a month early. Noah's a father. Papa. Whatever." He hid his head in his hand. "Fuck. Tess was right."
"You think you need to call?" Tommy didn't sound any more patient or understanding, but he was asking, and that was something.
"No. They're not in any place to talk to me. We'll have to stick with text for now." He sighed, staring out into the middle distance. "Fuck. Okay. I can do this."
The rest of the rehearsal was close to useless, with Adam largely going through the motions. He wasn't surprised when the director called for a fifteen minute break. Immediately, his phone was in his hands, checking his mail for messages from Noah or Kurt, and sending them both texts of support. He didn't notice Jacob until he actually reached out and nudged him on the arm.
"Rehearsal with dancers has been postponed until after lunch." He crouched down next to Adam, looking at him with obvious concern. "You going to be able to do this?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I'm sorry, I'll — I'll pull it together." Adam breathed evenly, trying not to think about Noah in the hospital, surrounded by his real family, making this transition without him. When Jacob reached out and took his hand, he came close to losing it.
"I think you should take a break," Jacob said. "If it was my boy having a kid, two thousand miles away from me, I'd be a mess too. Just give yourself a chance to regroup. Maybe take a walk?"
"The press'll be all over me."
"Just through the hotel. You're under surveillance as long as you stay inside the perimeter." Jacob put a hand on Adam's knee. "Okay?"
"Okay." Adam let Jacob pull him to his feet, shaking off his distraction. He left his phone in his pocket and set off for a stairwell, climbing the stairs to the second floor. He figured he could make a reasonable attempt at a walk up there, where the rooms were only full of other people occupied with avoiding the press.
Fifteen minutes later, he returned, feeling somewhat more centered, or at least well enough to be able to perform "Music Again" and "Fever" to the satisfaction of his director. Jacob didn't suggest any more breaks, which he figured was a good sign.
He checked his phone repeatedly whenever he had a moment, but he didn't hear anything further until about three, when they were getting into makeup. It was a picture of Noah, holding a tiny bundle of pink baby. It felt like the same stereotypical picture every new parent posted on social media, but even on the tiny screen of his phone, Adam could see the expression on Noah's face, the relief and joy and calm the baby had graced on him.
He pulled Jacob aside in the hallway, handing him the phone. Jacob smiled. "Aww. Yeah, he looks good like that. What'd he call himself? Not daddy, I remember that."
"Papa. He's her papa." He cleared the screen and put the phone away. "I just had to show someone, and you're about the only one I could show."
Jacob nodded. "You ready for this?"
"Yeah, I'll be all right," he said.
"No, I don't mean tonight. I know you can do as many shows, one at a time, as you have to. I'm asking if you're ready for this summer. We're starting now, tonight. You're going to announce the tour, and then in a week, we're heading to Europe."
"I know. I know." He nodded again, psyching himself up. "Let's do this."
The rest of the dress rehearsal and setup went by in a whirlwind. It seemed like no time had passed before Rob Halford was giving them an energizing introduction. Adam put on his show face and sang his heart out, just as he always did, and it felt like the best reminder in the world why he was doing it in the first place.
But when his phone rang with Noah's ringtone, he was still in the midst of a sea of performers and press liaisons and crew. He switched off the ring with a stab of regret.
"Adam!" It was Tommy, pulling him aside. "Don't tell me you're trying to get out of here so soon? This is the kind of press we need."
"I have to." Adam tried to duck around a small crowd of stylists wielding powder brushes and sponges, but Tommy held fast to his arm.
"They'll be there in the morning, won't they? Just let them do their thing tonight. We need you here."
"Tommy," Adam pleaded again. He knew the frustration had to be evident on his face as he surveyed the state of the crowds outside the Hyatt Regency ballroom.
"I can't vanish them for you," Tommy said caustically. "Either you go out and deal with the press or you hide upstairs."
"I'm going to need to go out there, I know. Just… this changes things. This changes a lot of things."
"What does?"
"The baby being born now." He looked up at the ceiling, trying to sort through all the things in his head, and failing. "I'm going to have to take some time off."
"Time off before the tour?" Tommy stared at him in disbelief. "So what does that mean? A day, a week?"
"At least," Adam said. "I was going to go to Lima at the end of May, but Noah's going to need me now."
"So, what, you want to cancel the Europe and Japan tour? Don't tell me this is more important than everything you've worked for?" Tommy's anger was starting to show. Adam glanced out the door one more time.
"Not cancel. Modify, consolidate. More days here than there. I can do some of it online, give interviews that way. But —" He fixed his eyes on Tommy. "Yeah. I'm saying this is more important. And I need you to accept that. All right? I'm not screwing around here."
"You are," Tommy growled. "For god's sake, they're kids. They're kids. Whatever you think you're getting permission to do everything you're doing with them —"
Adam came to stand in front of him, between Tommy's angry face and the door. This was not going to end up on the 11 o'clock news, not if he had anything to do with it. "It's as close to full disclosure as I've ever seen, with anybody's family, but — no. They're not kids, not any of them. They're young adults, but they are adults. Kurt's as rational as anybody I know." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm still the same person I was at seventeen, and I think most of the rest of us would say we are, too. Noah's starting now, being the adult he wants to be, and… and, dammit, I want to be there for it."
Tommy buried his face in his hand, groaning. "You've got this one chance, Ad. Your first song just went platinum, for fuck's sake. And you're going to blow it?"
"I can do both. I'm not going to give either one up." He gripped Tommy by his slender shoulders and made him look up at him. "Am I any less certain this is what I want than I was in December, when I met Noah?"
"This is stupid." Tommy squirmed to get out of his grip.
"You're stupid." Adam gave him a little firm shake. "If I'm fooling myself, it's only because I want this enough to get hurt for it."
"Yeah," spat Tommy, "and the rest of us are going to be the ones picking up your pieces when the next thing comes around."
Adam stared at him in astonishment. "Is that really what you think of me? That I'm just this… what, this needy asshole who takes advantage of my friends?"
He let Tommy go abruptly, breathing hard. Now Tommy looked apologetic.
"It's not like that, Ad. You know I want to be here. I'd do anything to be on tour with you."
"Anything," Adam said flatly. "Like putting up with my shit."
"You're not an asshole," Tommy insisted, but Adam turned away, schooling his face.
"Come on. Let's get through this press line and find Jacob."
He managed to elude most of the microphones as they walked the red carpet, giving a few words to Autostraddle, the Dish Rag, Pop Lab and Allout. By the time he reached Jacob, idling by the curb, he was ready to snap at anyone who spoke to him.
"Heading home, boss?" Jacob asked, flicking on the radio and detaching his earpiece as Adam climbed into the back of the Mustang.
"Yeah. Please." He put the phone to his ear, listening to the message Noah had left. It was brief, but it was Noah, and he was sounding very human and including the words I love you. He didn't dwell on it, but it warmed his heart anyway.
Tommy climbed in beside him and slumped, staring at the back of Jacob's seat. He flickered a glare at the phone in Adam's hands.
"You're going to be texting them all night," he grumbled.
"No, it's late there. They're already home, and they're exhausted. I just want them to know I'm here when they need me." He scooted over close beside him, waiting for Tommy's tacit permission to touch, and slung an arm around him. Tommy didn't pull away. "Jacob, I need to change my flight schedule for this week."
Jacob, to attest to his own integrity, didn't say anything other than, "Pass the details on to me in the morning."
He ignored Tommy's eyes on him while he returned the call. It went to voice mail, which wasn't so bad. He didn't think he'd be in any position to say no to Noah if he needed something com him.
"Kurt was right; she's perfect," he said after the voice mail chime. "My boy has a little girl. I'm going to do what I can to come visit you sooner. Until then, honey. I'm loving you."
Burt didn't prefer texting over voice calls, Carole knew, but at least while he was on duty on the floor of the garage, it was a way for him to stay in contact with all of them at the hospital. She'd been sending him one every fifteen minutes, just little updates, some with photos and some without: Puck's describing the labor to anyone who'll listen. Mr. Schuester's fielding well-meaning visitors in the hallway with Toby. Quinn seems a little sad.
She'd just sent him one that read Beth's having a nap, and I think they're going to make Quinn do the same, when she saw Finn stumble through the doorway, looking panicked. She tucked her phone into her jeans pocket. "What? What is it, Finn?"
"You said something earlier," he said rapidly. "Something about Irene. And I have to ask you, because I think — I think I know her."
"You know her?" Carole repeated. She looked at Finn's white face and shook her head, uncomprehending. "You were too young. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't remember her."
"No, I mean…" He looked out the door again, then back at her, swallowing. "African-American. Long braids. Almost never smiles."
Carole could feel the prickle of unease bloom into a hot rush of shock. The last sentence made her ache with sadness, because she could remember Irene smiling so many times with her, if not for anyone else. But that had been sixteen years ago. "How—?"
"She owns the coffeehouse. She's friends with Carl. And she —" He sighed, gesturing out the door. "She's here."
Carole took a step back and sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed. "Oh my god."
He looked so regretful. "I can ask Carl to tell her to go."
"No, no." She waved a hand at him, trying to clear her head. "This is okay. I'm just — surprised." She took a couple deep breaths. That can stand as an understatement. The way she and Irene had parted sixteen years ago hadn't been hurtful, although neither of them had pressed for contact after what had happened on Finn's first birthday. She managed to give Finn what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "You didn't do anything wrong. Thank you for the warning, anyway."
She felt her phone buzz and took it out of her pocket, glancing at the screen. Call me on the way home, said the text from Burt. You guys gonna want me to pick up dinner?
Yes please, she replied, trying to keep her breathing even. It wasn't easy, considering the situation. For one thing, the last time she'd seen Irene, she'd been a lot thinner and younger. And Finn — did she — did Irene know —?
"Finn," she said softly. He looked over, still standing in the doorway. "Has she known all along who you are?"
"I didn't think she knew at all," he said. "She doesn't know my real name, or at least I've never told it to her. I go by Christopher in the community down there."
"Christopher?" she repeated. He turned red, ducking his head.
"Middle name," he muttered. "It was easy."
"It's fine, Finn. And that was smart, to use another name." She was starting to feel a little more calm. Focusing on Finn's actions would help. "Carl uses another name, too, right?"
"Derek. But he — he told Patrick his real name." He leaned against the door jamb. "They're all coming right now, Quinn and Puck and Beth and Carl and Irene. Where's Kurt?"
"He and Sarah are downstairs with Toby and Mr. Schuester." Hearing Finn say Irene was a little strange, but it was even stranger to to think Finn knew her, had been talking with her for months in Columbus. He might know her better than Carole did, now. "Can you stay in here while I come out into the hallway and try to figure this out? At least for a little bit? I want a chance to talk with her alone."
Finn beckoned to Puck as he rounded the corner into the room, pushing Quinn's wheelchair. Puck seemed oblivious to everything that was happening, but Quinn took one look at Finn and frowned.
"What's going on?" she asked sharply. "Are you going to tell me who those people were? Why is Mrs. Corcoran here? Is that guy really Ms. Pillsbury's boyfriend?"
Finn nodded. "Complicated," he said under his breath. "Puck said something about getting ready to go? Can I help with that?"
Carole slipped through the door behind them, leaving Finn to deal with the uncomfortable questions Quinn was posing. She was too distracted by her own situation to feel bad for him. The certainty of being too big, a state of mind she thought she'd overcome more than a decade ago, threatened to overwhelm her. She smoothed her shirt and stood up a little straighter. Even if she'd wanted to, she wasn't going to be able to avoid this.
Don't let your fears win, she told herself, and they were Irene's words, the ones she'd carried with her all these years.
Carole walked around the corner to the family sitting area. She could see Carl standing in the doorway, talking to someone out of view of the hallway. He caught her eye and gave her a brief nod. That could mean this is her, or it could just be a friendly gesture; there was no way to tell. She could just see a pair of legs wearing jeans and black boots, facing Carl.
Carole's phone buzzed again, and she switched it off. She heard a low murmuring, and felt her heart accelerate. It was familiar, even if she hadn't heard it for sixteen years. When she was close enough for Carl to see her coming, she paused, just out of view of the seated figure.
Carl looked at her again, and this time she nodded back. He paused in his conversation.
"Irene," he said.
The boots shifted, and she stood up, stepping into view. Carole's first startled thought was, she's so short — which, of course, she'd always been. Her hair was a little gray, and the lines on her face a bit more pronounced than they were in Carole's memory, but the grave, calm expression was the same.
"So," Irene said, with a hint of a smile. "You're a grandma?"
Carole laughed, and Irene's smile grew.
"You could say that," she agreed. "I'm thinking I'll go with Nana Carole."
"That's good. I like that." Irene hesitated, then held out both hands, reaching for one of Carole's. Carole gave it to her without thinking, taking a deep breath as she felt the warm, dry hands enfold hers. Irene's eyes were just as deep and clear as they'd always been. "Before we say anything else, I just want to tell you that your son is a very fine human being."
Carole felt her cheeks go pink, but she maintained her calm. "Thank you."
"It was quite an experience to get to know him these past four months, and then realize this afternoon who he is. You can thank Carl here for slipping on his name today on the phone."
"My apologies, Carole," he said with remorse. Carole smiled at him.
"I think under the circumstances I should be thanking you," she said. She shifted her gaze back to Irene, filling in all the details that had been lost to her memory. Each one triggered a new set of memories from that year before Finn was born, and the year after: the tea set her grandmother had given her, Irene's bonsai collection, the next door neighbor's cats. And Finn, baby Finn, so compelling that he'd eclipsed even Irene herself in Carole's sight.
Irene did not seem to be objecting to Carole's stare. She stood there patiently, undoubtably caught by her own memories, until Carl shifted, stepping back. "I'm getting ready to go, Carole. Would it be all right if I drove Finn home? I was thinking it would be crowded in your car, with the car seat in the back."
"Oh — yes." She nodded appreciation at Carl. "Thank you. I'll take the boys and drive along with transport when they take the baby to St. Rita's — when they take Beth."
"Beth," Irene repeated to herself. She smiled, nodding. "Very nice."
Carl blinked. "Uh — yes. I'll bring him to the house. He'll certainly want to be there with Puck tonight. Irene, we'll have to play next Saturday by ear, but I'll call you when I know whether or not we'll be coming down. Good night."
Irene watched him go, shaking her head fondly. "That boy. He's so predictable. I'll tell you, when he told me Christopher — Finn was in high school, I was all set to call him out for conduct unbecoming, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. As far as I can tell, he's done everything right when it comes to him."
"You've known him for a long time?" Carole moved further into the sitting room, finding two unoccupied seats beside the window. Irene sat across from her, crossing her denim-clad legs.
"Our communities have overlapped in several ways over the past decade. Carl's no saint, but I've been impressed with his ethics. It's nice to have a male pro in the community that I can actually support and endorse." She paused, considering Carole. "You want to tell me what you already know about Carl and Finn's situation, so I'm not making any assumptions here?"
"I'm fairly certain I know all of it," Carole said. She chuckled. "Much to Finn's chagrin. I accidentally stumbled into a text with details about his plug training regimen."
"Oh, for—" Irene laughed aloud. "I bet that was an uncomfortable moment for both of you."
"That's nothing compared to what happened at Tessera over Valentine's Day. I'm sure he'd be mortified for me to be telling you this." She gave a loose description of Finn and Carl sitting together at breakfast, and Carl accidentally triggering Finn's vibrating plug, and Burt's reaction. Irene was nearly falling out of her chair by the end, she was laughing so hard.
"Oh, that poor boy." Irene wiped her eyes. "I feel for him, I do." She sighed, smiling at Carole. "This is nice."
"It really is," Carole said. She smiled back. "You're very brave to show up here and confront all of this history at once, but… I'm glad you did."
"Yeah?" Irene asked. She tilted her head. Even that small gesture brought back so many memories."I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me."
"Irene, I'm not going to tell you it doesn't complicate things. I'm in a relationship - a good one."
"So I've heard. Finn's boyfriend's father?"
She couldn't even say the words don't judge me to Irene, because that was precisely what she'd always appreciated most about her: that rational, critical judgment. She'd needed that to pull her out of the influence of her feelings and into the hands of something else. Carole watched Irene shake her head.
"Carole, I'm not looking for anything from you. Sixteen years is a lot of time. How about we start by getting caught up." She held out a card with something written on it, and Carole took it automatically. "You know how to find me now. Just ask your son."
Carole looked down at the card in her hand. It was bigger than a business card, more like a postcard. On one side was a map with directions to a coffeehouse in Columbus, Java the Hut. On the other was a picture of two crossed guitars and a pair of drumsticks between them, the name Labyrinth, and a series of upcoming dates for performances. When she looked up again, Irene was gone.
She went back to the room to find Finn, Sarah and Kurt standing on one side of the room, watching Puck getting a lesson in changing diapers from the nurse on duty. He was listening carefully, not seeming bothered by any of it.
Finn looked out into the hallway, then back at her, obviously confused. "Uh, did she…?"
"She had to go," Carole said. "But we'll be in touch." She held up the card, and Finn's expression turned more vague. "Is this your band?"
"Finn, you have a band?" Quinn didn't exactly look impressed. "With what free time?"
"We kind of hang out together a lot already, so it wasn't — mom, really, I'm not taking any more time away from anything. Including school." He gave Carole a pleading look, his face red. "I swear."
Carole wasn't in any frame of mind to argue with him, but she wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily, either. "We'll talk about it later. As soon as they release Quinn, I'm going to drive Kurt and Puck to St. Rita's, and if they'll let me transport her, I'll take Beth and Quinn with us. You'll have to ride back with someone else."
Finn's eyes got big, but he just nodded. "Yeah, okay."
"Labyrinth?" Quinn asked. She was holding the card, wrinkling her nose.
"It's kind of a pun. It's the, uh, plural form of labrys? The double-headed axe. And my other two bandmates, they both play guitar, so… double axe."
Quinn snorted. "I was thinking it had something to do with your complicated life."
"Or maybe the super hot Bowie as the Goblin King," Puck put in helpfully. He'd successfully changed Beth's tiny diaper and was holding her effortlessly in one arm.
"Who?" Finn asked.
Sarah exchanged a look with Kurt, then poked Finn in the ribs. "You are kidding, right? Seriously, I'm marathoning Labyrinth tomorrow on Tatenui's TV."
Carl stuck his head through the door, smiling casually. "I'm heading back to Lima. Anybody need a ride?"
"Would you take Finn back with you?" Carole asked, for Quinn's benefit. Finn shrugged and went into the hallway, waving at everyone as he left.
Quinn was moving slowly, putting on her shoes, but Carole could tell she was going to bounce back quickly. She helped her out of bed and back into the wheelchair.
"They'll want to keep you one night," she told Quinn, "just for observation and to make sure you're healing normally. But you're in great shape, and Beth's doing fine. I'm sure they'll let you go home tomorrow. I want to be clear, though, this isn't going to be over with right away. It takes time to process something this important, physically and emotionally."
"I've been prepared to give her up from the beginning, Mrs. Hudson," said Quinn quietly. She looked over at Puck, whispering to Beth. "He should have her."
"Well, you can come over any time you want." Carole smiled at her. "That's me telling you, and my word trumps Puck's, even if he is her father. Papa."
"What is going to happen when we get home?" asked Kurt. He was frowning. "We all have another seven weeks of school left. Noah didn't arrange to be off school until the end of May."
"We'll settle that on Monday." It was always hard to say I have no idea what's going to happen to your children, no matter how old they were. In this case, though, she was guessing they'd all be distracted enough not to care much until she could talk to Puck's principal and guidance counselor. "Right now, we're going to get this little girl home to Lima."
Blaine had to dodge an entourage of teenagers entering the lobby of St. Rita's. They appeared to be following a pretty blonde girl in a wheelchair bearing a well-wrapped bundle. He approached the front desk, smiling hopefully.
"Could you please see if Paula Harmon is ready to receive visitors? Last I heard she was in labor."
The receptionist directed him up to the sixth floor, where the nurse on duty let him sign in as friend.
"She's tired and groggy," the nurse told him, "but as long as she doesn't mind, you can go in to see them."
"Them," Blaine repeated, shaking his head. "Wow. Two babies is a lot all at once."
Paula did look exhausted, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, but she broke into a huge smile when she saw him. She held out her arms, beckoning him closer.
"Come here, you." She hugged him tightly. "What a wonderful surprise! I thought you were at your show choir regional competition today?"
"We were." He moved to the other side of the bed, where the babies were both sleeping in their industrial crib. "We were done by three, and I arranged to come back to Lima for the rest of the weekend."
She nodded. "Well?"
"We won," said Blaine. He peered into the crib, smiling. "Looks like you did, too."
"You can't convince me a c-section wouldn't have been less painful than bearing two babies, but I was lucky enough not to have to find out." She looked a little proud. "Congratulations, in any case, Mr. Warbler Lead Singer."
"Stop," he said, laughing. "Would you be okay if I held one of them?"
"Knock yourself out. They just ate, and they're both a little drunk on milk." She gestured at the pink and blue bundles. "That's Tyler, and that's Charlotte."
Blaine made a completely undignified noise of delight. "Charlotte? As in…?"
"Of course. You can thank Andrew — that's my husband — for refusing to give in to Wilbur." Paula didn't seem to be displeased, though. Blaine gathered up the pink blanketed baby, watching her tiny movements with interest.
"I've never held a newborn. I'm happy to learn, though. Would you let me babysit over the summer?"
"You'd be so welcome, but you could really just come over to my house and talk to me," she said. "I'll be home for six weeks before I go back part time."
He smiled into the infant's face as she yawned. "You've got yourself a deal."
Sunday began rainy and cold, and hadn't warmed up much by noon. Finn looked over at Kurt as he checked his buzzing phone. Puck and Carole still hadn't arrived with Beth. He knew Kurt's dad was inside, waiting to see them and to greet the baby, but he paused at the expression on Kurt's face.
"What?" he asked Kurt. "Who is it?"
"It's… Dave," he said, and sighed. "Honestly, I have no idea how I'm going to explain this."
"He knows about the baby, right?" He watched Kurt nod, making his way around to the passenger side of the car. He took his hand. "You can just blow him off."
"That's what I've been doing since Friday." Kurt climbed the three cement steps and pushed through the door, abandoning his suitcase beside the door with a sigh. When Burt came rushing down the stairs a few seconds later, looking expectant, Kurt gave him a tired wave. "They're about twenty minutes behind us. They had to stop and feed her. Judging by the noise she was making on her way up from Columbus last night, she apparently hates the car."
"Yeah, Carole told me. That's not going to make trips to Akron very much fun." Burt paused to hug Kurt, then offered a hug to Finn. He took it, even though he was feeling pretty hugged out after the weekend they'd had. "I picked up the diapers and formula Carole suggested. You guys are going to hit the books?"
"I guess." Finn made a face, but Burt gave him a stern look.
"Your mom told me the situation with Spanish. A D, Finn?"
"What?" Kurt spun to look at him, and Finn took a step back. "You didn't tell me about that."
"Ms. P said I can do summer school to improve my grade," Finn said.
"You are absolutely going to do that," Kurt snapped. Finn sighed, shaking his head.
"Can we not talk about this right now? I mean, maybe we shouldn't be arguing during Beth's first ten minutes in the house."
School was part of his stress, Finn had to admit, but Glee club's future was part of it, too, not to mention the fact that Saturday had come and gone without more than a brief Good luck! text from Blaine. After spending Friday night with Carl, he figured he should be feeling at least a little more relaxed, but the liberal flogging Carl had given him had barely taken the edge off his tension. He didn't think his mom would be too keen on him abandoning his projects and papers for an extended session at Carl's with the single tail — and the other thing he wanted from Carl, he couldn't have. He was just going to have to deal.
Focus on what you have, he reminded himself, and felt the muscles tighten around the plug he was currently wearing.
Kurt found him in the kitchen, getting out bread and a block of cheddar and the cheese slicer.
"I'm sorry," said Kurt, surprising him. "I didn't mean to argue with you. They're your grades."
"No, no. You're right." Finn put the slicer down and took Kurt in his arms. "I could have worked so much harder on my grades than I did, especially Spanish. It's just…" He smiled a little. "Nobody ever told me I should do better, until Tess did. Even my mom was okay with B's. And now Sarah's skipping a grade, and it just… it made me think."
Kurt's eyebrows went up. "You want to skip a grade, Finn?"
"About doing better." He put a hand over Kurt's tattoo under his shirt. "I kind of owe it to this family, you know?"
"Well, maybe to yourself first." But Kurt looked pleased. "Noah's not going to be thinking about grades, either."
"No, I know. That's kind of a lost cause. I think all we can do is try to figure out how to get him to graduation, any way we can."
"I can be very persuasive."
Finn kissed him. "I know, baby. I just don't know what to do when he talks about dropping out. I mean, now she's here. He's totally not going to be thinking about finals, but we still have to."
They heard the door open, along with the sound of Beth protesting very loudly. Kurt took Finn's hand. "One thing at a time, all right? Starting with getting your Thumper out of that evil, evil car seat."
Puck let Burt hold her for a good long time, making some of those universal baby-loving noises, before taking her back. He proceeded to walk around the house, providing a running commentary as he went: "This is Kurt's place, baby girl. You're not gonna remember it, though, because Grandpa Burt's building your house right now…"
"Just Tatenui," Burt insisted. "Don't start with the Grandpa business, all right? Finn, you want to make enough grilled cheese sandwiches for all of us? Puck, I think I can remember how to follow directions to make a bottle of formula."
Kurt stayed in the kitchen with Finn, watching through the doorway as Puck continued his circuit of the main floor. "I got a text from Tina about a special rehearsal today. A song for Mr. Schue?"
Finn nodded, focusing on not cutting himself with the cheese slicer. "Yeah, I got a text too."
"She said we don't have to be there," he said. "But I think I might want to go. That song…" He wrapped his arms around himself. "I mean, it's cheesy, but the sentiment… To Sir, With Love. It just makes me think about how far we've come this year. All of us, but us in particular. You and me."
Finn smiled, feeling the warmth of Kurt's gaze on him. "You don't think what we were trying to do was silly?"
"Silly?" Kurt echoed, looking surprised. "Finn… no." He reached out and touched his arm.
"Kind of, though. Thinking I could be anybody's sir. I mean, we've learned a lot since then, and it's pretty clear there's a lot more to learn." Finn buttered his bread and laid it on the griddle with cheese on top, watching it sizzle.
"Finn, that doesn't mean what we did was silly." Kurt was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was small and very un-Kurt-like. "You think we don't deserve that?"
"No, I don't mean that." He shrugged. "I think you deserve better than… than a pretend Top. And I have to face it, Kurt, that's pretty much what it was. Whatever we say about instinct and natural talent, it was just me thinking I could do something I didn't know anything about. I messed up a lot." He shook his head ruefully. "I'm still messing up."
Kurt moved in closer, staying out of the way of Finn's elbow as he checked the grilled cheese. "That's it, though. You are still doing it. No matter how silly it felt, it still felt right. We figured it out, didn't we?"
"You think we did," said Finn. "But I think part of why you think that is because you don't have a real Top. Adam's just making it up, too, isn't he?"
"He's not my Top," said Kurt. He brushed Finn's shoulder with his cheek. "It's more like play with him. Serious play, and we both need it and love it, but he doesn't affect me like that."
"And I do?"
Kurt laughed quietly. "You know the answer to that."
Finn nudged the sandwich in the pan. "If I leave it too long, it'll burn. But if I flip it too soon, it'll fall apart."
"Sounds familiar." He stood on his tiptoes and kissed Finn on the cheek, pausing to whisper in his ear, "You might be just making it up, but it works. Sir."
It left him with the same incredulous feeling he always had: I get that? and he trusts me that much? He smiled at his grilled cheese, flipping it carefully. A little cheese came out of the edge and sizzled on the pan, but most of it stayed together.
When he had eight sandwiches cut in half, he put them on a plate and set the plate on the table. Puck was still standing with Beth, who'd fallen back asleep. Finn sidled up beside them, looking over his shoulder at the baby.
"Check it out," he said. He put his arms around Puck from behind. "Look what you made."
"Yeah." Puck sounded completely satisfied. "Step one, anyway. We got time for the rest."
"How about lunch? You got time for that?"
Puck turned his head away from his daughter and looked up at Finn. His adoring expression didn't change one bit. It still made Finn dizzy to see it, for him. "Yes, sir."
He wanted to say you don't have to call me that. But he didn't want to. "You heard about Tina's plan for the song for Mr. Schue?"
"Kurt said. I don't think I've ever called Mr. Schue sir. But, whatever. I'm part of the group. We've all got people we're thankful for this year, people who taught us things. I can sing that song for them." He nodded at Finn. "For you."
"I'm pretty sure I didn't teach you anything," said Finn.
Puck looked incredulous. "Are you kidding me?" He sang, keeping his eyes on Finn's:
A friend who taught me right from wrong, and weak from strong
That's a lot to learn
What can I give you in return?
Finn wanted to squirm away, but he stayed where he was, trying to absorb the devotion Puck was expressing.
"I know you want to give that to me," he said at last. "I really know how that feels. But knowing you think I deserve it, and feeling like I can live up to your expectations? That's two totally different things."
Puck tucked Beth's blanked a little closer around her. She made a settled, contented noise in her sleep. "She doesn't have a choice about who she gets as her Papa. I'm just gonna do my best, and keep trying. The only fucking reason I know anything about how to do that, you dumbass, is because you taught me."
Finn broke out into a surprised laugh. "When did I do that?"
"Kind of your whole life." Puck smiled. "You didn't have to be my friend in second grade, when they moved me from Mr. Richardson's to Mrs. Wright's, but you were anyway. You gave me your best pencil when I didn't have one, and you helped me in math, but you wouldn't let me cut you in line."
"Huh. I don't remember that. I bet you were pissed at me."
"Nah," said Puck. "I didn't want to follow Mr. Richardson's dumb rules. I wanted to follow yours."
Now he could definitely feel himself turning red. "Because I was fair? Because I wasn't a jerk about it?"
Puck nudged him. "Because I was your boy. Starting then. It doesn't go away, you know?"
Finn's mom managed to get Puck to put Beth down while they ate lunch. "She's just in the other room," she reminded Puck, passing the pitcher of iced tea. "And maybe after this, you can go in and have a nap while she sleeps. Her schedule's going to be all over the place for a week or two. After that, we can help her settle into a routine."
"We?" Puck asked Carole. She nodded.
"Burt and I will take turns staying home with you. We're not going to leave you alone in the house with an infant. Not because you can't handle it, but because sometimes emergencies come up, and you'll need help."
"We'll go into school on Monday and get things settled for the end of the year," Burt added. "You already planned to defer your grades. It'll just be a little sooner now. But that doesn't mean you're not going to make that time up, all right?"
"Yes sir," Puck said.
Burt looked a little taken aback, but after a moment, he nodded. Sarah grinned at both of them, looking pleased.
"Kurt and I are going to Tina's to rehearse this thing for Mr. Schue," said Finn. "I think we should be part of this last song for him. Since Glee's getting cancelled and everything."
"You don't have to stop singing together just because there's no class," his mom said. "Right? The three of you, you could just about lead your own group. Finn, aren't you already doing that, with your band? And all the choreography you and Kurt wrote together. And Puck, and Kurt, you wrote music." She shook her head in admiration. "It's been amazing to see it happen."
"Mr. Schue made it happen, though," said Kurt. "Without him, we never would have thought we could do any of those things. He… gave us permission to be writers and performers and choreographers and costumers. That's all we needed." He looked at Finn. "He didn't have to know what he was doing to be an effective leader."
When Finn came into Puck's room after lunch, he found Kurt sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking Puck's shoulder under the blanket. Puck was asleep. Beth was in the crib, still wrapped tightly in her blanket.
"I hope he gets a little sleep, at least," he said. "Quinn told me this morning that he was up for every feeding last night."
"He'll be okay. We should get going, if we're going to be at Tina's at two." He hesitated. "Would you mind if… would it bother you if I called Patrick on the way over? I just want to check on him."
Kurt shook his head. "I wouldn't mind. Although if you'd rather talk to him without me being there, you could call him before we go."
"No, I don't need that." He helped Kurt to his feet, even though he was pretty sure Kurt could stand up just fine on his own. "I want you to meet him, eventually. You'd really like him, Kurt. He's still pretty scared about people from Lima finding out what he's doing. "
"We're all used to keeping each other's secrets," said Kurt. "I can keep this one."
Kurt leaned in and kissed him slowly, letting it develop from a simple touch of lips to something much more passionate. Finn stifled his own moan, feeling himself respond.
"Tonight," he said. "You, inside me."
"If that's what you — yes." Kurt's eyes were wide and glazed. "Absolutely."
"God." It came out like a growl, and he grabbed Kurt's ass, pulling him in snug against his hip. Kurt made a little yelp of protest, grinding against him. "Yeah. I want that."
It made calling Blane an unusually fraught experience, especially considering Blaine answered the phone breathless and clearly excited to talk to him. "Finn!"
He was hyper-aware of Kurt eyeing him from the driver's seat, but Finn couldn't keep himself from smiling. "Hey. So, uh, how'd your competition go?"
"We won," Blaine said happily. "I saw on the blogs you didn't, so I'll save you the indignity of my asking, but I'm sorry."
"It's okay. The other guys were better. We're going to have to deal with the fallout, though. So what's your schedule look like for the rest of the semester? I'm gonna have to cut back on Wednesdays for a while, but I'll hold out for Saturdays as long as you can still make it to Irene's."
Blaine's response was obscured in Finn's sudden realization that Irene's would never have quite the same meaning for him again. He had to ask Blaine to repeat himself.
"I was just saying that Saturdays are fine, as long as I keep up with my studying. I think I can get most of that done during the week."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure," said Blaine. He didn't sound like he was trying to get away with anything, but even so, Finn thought he could hear a longing in his voice.
"You're not stressing out about finals, are you?"
Blaine laughed. "I have plenty of things to be stressed out about without adding academics to the mix. But something nice happened, anyway. My friend had her babies on Saturday."
For a second Finn didn't know how to respond. Then he realized Blaine had said babies. "Oh, yeah?"
"She was my favorite librarian when I was growing up. Twins, a boy and a girl."
"Well, congratulations to her." He decided he wasn't going to get into the subject of Puck and Beth, not over the phone. "So we're on for next Saturday? Me and Carl? We can call it rehearsal if it feels easier that way."
"You're on. Thank you for calling."
"You're welcome. Congratulations to you and your choir. I'll talk to you next weekend."
Kurt's expression was hard to read when he hung up.
"Choir?" he asked politely.
"Yeah. He's, um." Finn was going to have to be careful. Being the principal singer of the Warblers probably counted for more in Kurt's book than in Finn's. "He's in his own glee club, at his school. They won their own regional competition this weekend."
"Of course he would be in choir. You said he has a great voice."
"I told you you'd like him. He's — well, he's gay. Gay like you're gay?" Finn made a face when Kurt laughed. "I don't know how to describe it."
"Culturally gay," Kurt said. "Either that, or you mean flaming."
"He's not really. But he does kind of like clothes. I don't get his thing about bow ties. Maybe it's a Doctor Who reference?" Finn shrugged. "Whatever."
Kurt was grinning. "Someday I'll have to ask him about it."
"I got him something for his birthday. Two somethings, really, because Carl convinced me first that I should get him one, and then he convinced me that I should get him something else just in case he wasn't ready to accept it —"
"Finn," Kurt cut in. "Breathe."
"Right. Uh, well, I got him a — a collar. Like mine."
Kurt nodded. "I thought maybe you were considering that."
He looked across to the driver's seat at Kurt. "You don't mind?"
"I'm not making it a competition, Finn. And I'm not waiting around for you to offer me a collar. You know I don't need that in the same way that Noah does."
"That doesn't mean you shouldn't have it," said Finn. He wasn't going to push Kurt about it, not now, when they had so many other things going on.
Kurt pulled the Navigator behind Santana's BMW, parked along the curb down the block from Tina's house, and turned off the ignition. "What's the other something?"
That was easier. "Tickets to a concert. The Indigo Girls are coming to the Greaves Concert Hall in Cincinnati. It's on a Saturday, and I got them before my mom found out about the D. Plus that's right at the end of the school year, so I figure she can't complain."
"My dad's already made it very clear that it doesn't matter that Adam's going to be performing in Ohio in June, because it's in the middle of the week, and I will not be staying out all night at a concert the last week of school." He made a sour face. "I'm still holding out for the Cleveland performance in July. I bet Noah and I can convince him to let us go to that one."
They walked up to the house together. Tina's mother met them at the door and let them in, smiling. "They're all on the back deck. Help yourself to drinks from the cooler. We'll make hot dogs on the grill later."
It was a lot more crowded on the deck than Finn had anticipated. He only sort-of knew half of the kids there. "Michael," he said, stopping the red-haired junior guitar player from jazz band. "What's going on? I thought this was a thing for Mr. Schue?"
"It is," said Michael. He nodded at Tina, opening his pop can. "Tina invited all of us, the accompanists. Nobody ever asked us to do that kind of thing before, to play on demand. Like we were real musicians, you know? We want to thank him, too."
That made Finn feel kind of guilty, like maybe he should have thought about Michael and all the rest of the kids from jazz band and orchestra before. Just because they hadn't been singing didn't mean they hadn't been performing. He held out his hand to Michael, and Michael smiled before shaking it.
"You were awesome," Finn said. "I hope we get to work together again someday, even if Glee doesn't happen next year."
"Yeah, I hope so too. It'll be my last year to do music stuff. My mom's making me give it up to do pre-med." Michael didn't look like he liked that idea very much. He sidled up to Finn, leaning in closer. "Hey, is it true that Puckerman and you and Kurt are moving in together?"
"My mom and Kurt's dad are dating," Finn said automatically. "And Puck went to live with Kurt's dad after his mom died."
"Yeah, that's what I heard. So are Puckerman and Kurt still going out?"
Finn tried not to frown. He shrugged. "I guess that's up to them, huh?"
Michael looked over at Kurt, who was laughing with Tina. "You think you could give him my number?"
The frown slipped out now. Michael took a step back, suddenly wary.
"Uh, never mind. Just a thought. Have a good summer, man." Michael faded back into the crowd with his pop while Finn was left scowling at nobody. Artie filled the void where his eyes fell, giving him an inquisitive look.
"Who pissed in your swimming pool, Finn?"
"Nobody. It's nothing." He made himself smile at Artie. "Not really a very happy party, is it?"
"Oh, I don't know." Artie did a spin that looked effortless, but Finn knew from experience wasn't at all. "Glee was kind of the best thing in my life, all year. We're not going to lose that."
Rachel raised her voice, calling everyone to the deck who'd strayed into the backyard. They made a loose circle around the perimeter, doubling up where necessary, and sat down on the decking or on chairs where they were available. Finn guessed there were easily thirty people there.
"Thanks for coming, everyone," she said. She smiled at Finn in particular, and he smiled back. "I was hoping for a good turnout, but I didn't expect this. Quinn was the one who asked us to arrange this rehearsal, and she'll be there to sing with us on Monday. She had a beautiful baby girl, by the way."
There was a smattering of applause. Nobody looked at either Kurt or Finn. Whatever stories were being told about what was happening with Puck, it apparently wasn't going to be a source of gossip today.
"But this song is for Mr. Schuester, who helped us all realize the kind of people we could be, even if we didn't quite see it ourselves to begin with." Rachel gestured at Tina, who began handing out sheet music. "We'll start with the chorus, and then we'll learn the harmonies. The verses, we can split up between all of us. There's strings, and guitar, and drums. Everyone's welcome to play with us in the auditorium tomorrow after lunch."
The verses were sweet, maybe a little too sweet. After some discussion, they decided to cut the middle verse, because, as Santana said, "I was a fucking person even when I was climbing trees."
Those awkward years have hurried by, why did they fly away?
Why is it, Sir, children grow up to be people one day?
What takes the place of climbing trees
And dirty knees in the world outside?
What is there for you I can buy?
If you wanted the world I'd surround it with a wall
I'd scrawl these words with letters ten feet tall
'To Sir with love'
Puck escaped from the auditorium after their performance to call Shelby before her lunch period was over. It took her a few tries to pick up.
"How'd she sleep last night?" she said, without even saying hello.
"Worse than the night before," Puck said cheerfully. "Carole said it'll even out eventually. She's home with her today. I think she might have been cold?"
"I'll pick her up one of those sleep sacks, the kind you zip up like a bag and has a hood. What about the formula? Is she digesting it all right?"
"Seems to be fine so far? I dunno. She's got baby poop. That's good, right?" Puck leaned against the cinder block wall of the hallway, grinning. "What a fucking weird conversation to be having at school."
"I'm sure it's not the weirdest you've had."
"Oh, no, totally not. I didn't even tell you anything about the ghost in our attic."
"Sure, Noah. Well, I have some news you might be interested in hearing, even though you don't seem to care about Glee much these days. Maybe about as much as I do. In any case, Glee has another year. Your principal agreed to give it another try."
"For real?" Puck felt like he might want to do a loud whoop, right there in the hallway, but he restrained himself. "Dude, that's awesome. How'd you swing that?"
"I have some pull with your principal. And I don't mean I'm blackmailing him or anything. I just pointed out the importance of the arts in the school improvement plan for the purposes of budgeting."
"I've got to find Mr. Schue. Thanks, Shelby. Seriously, that's really great."
"Keep me posted about how she's doing this week. You can send pictures if that's easier. We're going to have to figure out the schedule, as soon as I'm done with my grades for this semester."
"No problem. I've got this covered. Just knowing you're there makes it a hell of a lot easier." He wasn't embarrassed to admit it. "Bye."
Puck walked right into Mr. Schue's office without knocking, but stopped when he saw Matt standing there beside his desk, looking resigned.
"Uh, sorry," he said. "I can come back."
"No, that's okay" Matt shrugged, shuffling in a couple feet to make room for Puck. "I'm just telling him about this being my last day. He knows already, Mr. Schue."
Mr. Schue sighed, setting his glasses down on the desk. "Well, I can't tell you how sorry I am to see you go. You've been a valuable member of this club, Matt, even if you've been a quiet one. I'm going to ask one more time: is there anything you think you might want to sing for us before you go?"
"Dude." Puck reached out and tapped his arm. "You can sing something. I'll accompany you. I've got my guitar with me today. And it's my last day too, so it'll be, like, a duet."
Matt looked so sad. "I don't really know any songs."
"How about Over the Rainbow, from The Wizard of Oz?" Mr. Schue suggested. "I can play that on the ukulele. And I'll sing with you, too, if it'd feel better to do it together like that."
"It would," Matt admitted. "Yeah, okay. I can do that."
"Is there anybody special in school you might want to have in the audience?" he asked. The question was casual, but Puck thought by the expression on Mr. Schue's face that he knew what was up. He didn't have much of a poker face.
Matt shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I doubt it."
That didn't sound like hell no, I don't want anybody listening, so Puck decided his answer was probably actually yeah, but I'm not gonna ask him since I cheated on him and everything. Which didn't mean somebody else couldn't do the asking.
Puck didn't bother to figure out Dave Karofsky's schedule. He just roamed the halls, looking in windows until he found him. What was Figgins going to do, give him a detention?
He paused in the doorway and cleared his throat until the teacher looked up from the white board. "Yes?"
"Karofsky to the office," Puck said, holding up a piece of paper. Dave pushed out his chair, watching Puck warily.
"Go on," said the teacher, waving him on. "Come back when you're done, David."
"Dude." Puck fell into step beside him. "Nobody ever lets me leave class without a pass. You have some major mojo working on the teachers."
"Whatever," Dave said irritably. "I'm guessing there's nothing in the office."
"No, but there's something in the choir room." He paused when Dave stopped in the hallway, looking panicked. "What?"
"I can't go to Glee club," said Dave.
"You don't actually have to go anywhere," said Puck. "Just chill out. I know you don't want Matt to see you. But there's a place you can stand and listen, where nobody will notice you. There's no instrumentalist today, besides me and Mr. Schue, so the storage closet will be left alone."
Dave gave him a strange look. "You're going to put me in a closet."
"Unless you'd rather sit in Mr. Schue's office. Whatever. You'll get a better view from the storage closet." He tugged on Dave's arm. "Come on, it'll be fine. It's his last day. He wants you to hear him sing, he's just too embarrassed to ask for it. Plus he thinks you hate him."
Dave started walking again, more slowly. "I kind of do hate him."
"No, you fucking don't. You're pissed at him, but it's different."
They were both silent for a while as they passed two groups of freshman girls, who gave them a wide berth. Puck wondered what this looked like to them, but only for a moment. Mostly he didn't care anymore.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Dave demanded.
"Because Kurt says you're fine," he said, "and whatever Kurt says goes."
That earned him a perplexed stare, but Dave kept walking. "And you're okay with that?"
"I am so okay with that," Puck said, chuckling. "Plus, I had a kid this weekend, so that trumps everything."
"You had a — what?" Dave stopped again, grabbing Puck around to face him. "What do you mean, you had a kid? You mean Quinn had her baby? When was this?"
"Saturday after Glee's Regionals. Well, kind of in the middle of it. Kurt didn't tell you?"
"Kurt didn't answer my texts," said Dave, then scowled, turning away.
"No, it's fine, I knew you guys were talking already. I think he just didn't know what to tell you. But I'm kind of sick of secrets, all right? So you're just gonna have to tell me if anything is TMI." He smiled, showing Dave a picture of Beth on his phone. "Here. Her name's Beth."
Dave took the phone, looking at the picture with disbelief. "Holy shit."
"Yeah," Puck agreed.
He tilted his head. "She looks like you."
"She looks more like Sarah than me. My sister."
"I know," Dave said. He looked up at Puck, more calm now. "Well, congratulations."
"Thanks." He tugged Dave's sleeve again. "We'd better get there before everyone else."
Mr. Schue was tuning up his ukulele when they walked in, but he was facing the other wall and didn't appear to notice them as they eased open the door to the closet and Dave slipped in.
"I can't believe you got me to do this," he muttered.
"That was all you, man," Puck whispered back. "Can't blame it on anyone but yourself."
He went over and sat on the piano bench and got out his guitar. Mr. Schue smiled.
"So Glee club's got another year," Puck said.
Mr. Schue was mystified. "How'd you find out?"
"Shelby told me. She's the one who pulled the strings."
"Of course," he murmured. "I knew Figgins couldn't have changed Sue's mind that easily, not without some influence. Well, I'm in her debt. And it sounds like maybe you two are planning some joint ventures, here, with your daughter?"
"More like two different ventures, happening in an overlapping kind of way. I don't think we're planning to both be parents together." He shrugged, and laughed. "It's still pretty awesome though."
"And you're going to stay home to take care of her? What about next year? Can we count on your presence in Glee?"
"I don't know if you can count on anything yet," he said. "I'm gonna have to put her first, no matter what. But there's a lot of people in my house who are telling me I don't get to drop out of school."
"Well, I think you should listen to them. You're an incredibly talented young man. And I'm not the only one who thinks so."
Puck kind of liked hearing Mr. Schue say that about him, but he didn't get a chance to tell him, because everyone from Glee started to filter in, and Puck set his guitar down on the risers, sitting beside it. It took a few minutes for everyone to filter in. Matt arrived last, and he sat in the front.
Mr. Schue sat on a stool in the front of the room. Brad was notably absent, but Puck figured he deserved a day off every now and then too. He smiled at them.
"We've got another year."
The tumult escalated from stunned, to confused, to jubilant. Everyone was hugging and jumping up and down, except for Puck and Matt. They moved to the side, waiting.
"Okay," Rachel called, "I think this is the perfect opportunity to start rehearsing for next year's sectionals, immediately…"
"Guys," said Mr. Schue, guiding Rachel back to her seat, "you've all worked really hard this year, and you deserve a break."
"But I have ideas," Rachel protested.
"Take the summer off. Have some fun. Oh, but before you go, we have one more song, and two goodbyes to make. Puck, Matt, if you're ready."
Matt came up and sat down on the stool next to Mr. Schue. He looked completely ill at ease, but he didn't shy away from their eyes.
"This is my last day," he said. "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you before. My dad's moving us to Philadelphia. We already sold our house."
This time the hubbub was more concerned. "What happened?" asked Artie, looking bewildered.
"It's complicated," he said. "But this… this Glee thing, that wasn't complicated at all. I had no idea I was going to love it so much. But I did. I really, really did." Matt smiled up at Mr. Schue, who smiled back, a little sadly. "I'm gonna do choir at my next school, if my parents will let me. And I promise I'll sing more. Even if I'm not as awesome as some of you guys."
"You're awesome," Mike said. He looked like he was going to cry.
Mr. Schue picked up his ukulele and began to play. Puck improvised a rhythm part, weaving in some counter-melody. They left Matt to sing lead, the two of them singing a very quiet harmony in the background:
Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
There's a land that I've heard of
Once in a lullaby
He really did have a nice voice, a quiet one, but it grew a little more confident as he sang. Mr. Schue looked completely thrilled with the performance. As soon as it was over, everyone came down off the risers to hug Matt good-bye.
"You said two goodbyes, Mr. Schue?" asked Artie.
"Puck," said Mercedes. They all turned to look at him. "It's Puck. He's staying home with Beth, now that she's born. Him and Ms. Corcoran."
"You and Ms. Corcoran are shacking up now?" Santana asked, clearly disgusted by the idea.
"Not even a little," Puck promised. "But this is my last day. You guys will all get baby pictures this summer."
"I vote ice cream after school," said Finn. They agreed by general acclaim.
Puck made sure he was the last one in the room as everyone filtered back out, murmuring to Kurt that he'd meet them at the car. It wasn't the most subtle of exits, but Dave managed to get from the closet to the hall without anybody noticing where he'd come from. His eyes were red, but Puck didn't say anything.
"You probably can't talk to him, huh?" he said sympathetically.
"Doubt it," Dave said, his voice hoarse. He took off down the hall.
"Dave," Puck called. He turned around, looking quickly around himself before fixing Puck with a look.
"What?"
"I don't even know. It just sucks," said Puck. "And I'm sorry."
Dave shook his head in disbelief. "You're telling me you're sorry?"
"I get to be that, don't I? Things aren't exactly going your way right now. But, dude, look at me." He held out his arms, smiling. "I'm living proof that things can change."
