Chapter 12 - This is Me Trying


Six months later, things seemed to be getting back to normal.

Or, at least, what Kurt Hummel could consider 'normal' when he lived with an actual billionaire.

Not being one to shy away from hard work but knowing when enough was enough, Kurt and Santana had both quit their job at the diner, much to Gunther's dismay, which had also put a strain on Santana's relationship with Dani.

Dani had quietly requested to call things off before they progressed to a point where either of them would be affected by the lack of time spent together, something that Santana had actually agreed with and had suggested that they still be friends and occasional duet partners. Dani had been pleased and the two seemed more connected than ever despite not actually being in a relationship anymore.

Santana had chosen to enrol at NYU, although she wasn't sure of a major. She was taking extra-curricular dance and voice lessons, all bankrolled by Tony. Tony had heard her sing along to Tina Turner while she made dinner one night and had asked her about her professional training. Santana had admitted that she had never taken a vocal lesson in her life, something Tony had considered a waste of talent and had found the most highly-regarded voice teacher he could and immediately signed Santana up. Santana, not one to take things from people for free, offered to pay Tony back or do something for him in return, but quickly realised that that was not the Tony Stark way. She had swallowed her pride and allowed Tony to pay for things against her better judgement.

Kurt had been on a similar journey, but was albeit quicker to accept money for Tony, who had settled his father's medical expenses unbeknownst to even Kurt until the latter had received a very confused call about why his debt was suddenly just…gone. Kurt had had no answers, but Steve had pointed a finger in Tony's direction, not knowing for sure but being able to guess based on how well he knew the man.

Kurt had taken a job at Stark Industries as a Creative Consultant, which had Kurt embraced, starting with redesigning several advertising campaigns right off the bat. Tony had also paid the boy handsomely to come up with some costume designs for the whole Avengers team, something that would sit very nicely on his resume that wasn't related to Vogue in any way, although Kurt did discreetly consult Isabelle on a few designs without specifying what was happening.

Steve, with his own money and not wanting to use Tony's, had set Kurt up with an elaborate design studio filled with machines, materials, and all the fancy resources that he sometimes had to share at Vogue. Impressed with his new setup, Isabelle had allowed him to work from home for the majority of his time, only having to come into the office for staff meetings and occasional check-ins. This was ideal for Steve, who would then know that Kurt was protected and also be able to spend more time with his boyfriend.

Natasha and Clint had also taken it upon themselves to teach Kurt and Santana some basic combat training, which was going surprisingly well. Both natural dancers, they had picked up a lot of it through the lens of choreography, but Natasha had warned them not to reveal their rhythms to any potential attackers as it would affect their chances of survival. After the events both had been through prior to ever meeting the Avengers, they thought it wise to continue with that training as far as they possibly could. Kurt had offered some sort of recompense for their time, which Natasha had taken in the form of outfit design and Clint had taken in the form of Spanish lessons from Santana.

Thor had also returned from Asgard with the news of Loki's successful banishment. Heimdall would see to it that Loki never return to Earth, which was a relief to them all.

Bucky had integrated himself more with the group, something that pleased both Steve and Kurt, but still needed quite a lot of downtime and unscheduled sessions with Bruce, which everyone understood.

It was safe to say that things were going well. Kurt and Santana had integrated into the Tower, had been living there quite happily for half a year, and their lives were progressing in a more than satisfactory way.

Kurt would later reflect on that period with unease, berating himself for getting too comfortable in state of happiness when he knew that was something that didn't happen to him.

Kurt was in the kitchen when the call came through, preparing snacks for a movie afternoon with Natasha and Thor. The microwave beeped, signalling the readiness of the popcorn went the familiar ringtone blared through the room.

Kurt held the phone to his ear, smiling. "Hey, Dad! Look, I know it's been a long time since I checked in properly and I haven't told you too much, but there's a reason for that I'll explain everything—."

"Kurt," Burt Hummel's broken voice muttered through the receiver. "You need to come back to Lima."

Kurt's brain kicked into overdrive as he thought about the last time he heard Burt's voice use that sort of tone. "What happened?"

At the sound of how defeated Kurt sounded, Natasha was on her feet in an instant, hovering by the boy for anything he might need. Thor, a little slower on the uptake, joined her a few seconds later.

The words Burt said next would never leave Kurt's mind.

The phone clattered to the floor, luckily protected by the casing Kurt had picked out, ironically with the Captain America symbol on it so he would always feel like Steve was with him even when they were apart.

Natasha bent down and collected the phone, offering it back to a shaking Kurt, who shook his head and refused it.

"Kurt?" Burt's voice could be heard calling for his son.

"Tell him I'll call him back," Kurt choked out, barely able to form the words.

Natasha frowned but nodded. "Kurt says he'll call you back."

"But—," Burt said before Natasha hung up the phone.

Thor looked increasingly concerned. "What is wrong?"

Kurt's lips quivered. "I…I need to find Santana."

Natasha looked to Thor, gently easing him back a few steps while she placed her hands on Kurt's shoulders. "Santana is taking a nap, I'll have Jarvis call for her."

"Already done, ma'am," Jarvis echoed from somewhere around them.

Just a few minutes later, Santana emerged from the elevator, rubbing her sleepy eyes. "The world better be on fire again, Grandma, or else I—." She stopped dead, seeing the look on Kurt's face, which bordered someone between frightened and catatonic. "What's wrong?"

Kurt quickly slipped out of Natasha's hold and walked over to Santana, guiding her towards the couch.

Santana swallowed heavily. "You're starting to scare me now, Kurt. Please tell me what happened."

Kurt opened his mouth and prepared himself to say three words that he knew would ruin his life forever.

"Finn is dead."


Kurt paced around the kitchen as Santana experienced a similar frenzy of thoughts and feelings that she had no idea how to process.

"We have to start packing for Lima, for the…funeral. I don't have time to get a gift for Carole. Do I have to call everyone else? Oh god, does Rachel know? I don't want to tell her, Santana, I can't. What about Mr Schue? God, this will break him."

Thor leaned into Natasha. "Who's Finn?"

Natasha grimaced. "Kurt's step-brother."

Thor's face fell even further. "Gods be with him. What do we do?"

"There's nothing we can do. We don't know how they grieve." She sighed. "Kurt's clearly going to try and micro-manage everything until he collapses but I'm somehow more worried about Santana. She doesn't seem to have an outlet to distract her."

"Should I call Steve?"

"I already texted him," Natasha smiled sadly. "He's probably sprinting through the streets as we speak."

Sure enough, Steve appeared in the living room two minutes later, barely even out of breath due to his superior fitness levels. He caressed Kurt and tried to practically glue himself to his side, pressing kisses to his head.

Without saying a word, Kurt detached himself from Steve and continued to move around the room, leaving Steve looking like a puppy that had just been kicked. After weighing up his options, Steve got the message and moved to stand by Natasha.

"How the fuck do I help him?"

Natasha put a steadying hand on his arm. "You do whatever he needs. I know you'll want to make a fuss over him and make sure he's okay, but that's clearly not what he needs and you're going to have to adjust to that. This seems to be how he processes so you'll just have to let him do it."

"And Santana?" Steve's heart broke also for the girl who looked utterly broken on the couch.

Natasha shrugged lightly. "Undetermined. From what I know about her, she will not let Kurt see her be upset over this, thinking that she has no right to be upset when Kurt's lost his brother."

Kurt walked over to Santana and reached down for her hand. "We have to go."

Santana nodded sadly. "I'll…I'll start packing."

Kurt zoomed into the elevator, arms wrapped tightly around his body.

Santana turned to Steve. "You have to understand this isn't about you. He's just…he won't want you around because you make him feel good and he doesn't think he deserves anything good right now considering his brother is…"

Steve nodded shortly. "Should I go to him or just…do nothing?"

"He knows you'll be here for him. He's going to ask you to stay here while we go to Lima, but I'm telling you that you should be there. There's going to come a moment where he stops denying his feelings and he'll break down. He'll want you there for that."

"Then I'll be there."

Santana's lip quivered. "You're going to have to fight him a little. He might be going through the unimaginable, but he'll appreciate it later. He might be mad for a little while but don't take it personally."

Steve took in her words with a nod.

Santana eyed him carefully. "Steve, listen to me. When Kurt's mad at you, you'll feel completely worthless. He's the best person I know, but he's always a master at making you feel like shit if he wants to. It's how he survived Lima in one piece. Just…be prepared."


Tony had appeared as if out of nowhere during Kurt and Santana's frantic packing. Bucky had gone to stand guard outside Kurt's room, hovering just close enough to be a presence if Kurt needed him for something, but was far enough away to not disturb him as he dashed around his room, packing things in a methodical manner, even during a time like this.

Tony walked straight up to Steve, his face fallen. "Anything he needs, you let me know. I've already sorted a jet to take them to Lima. You going with them?"

Steve shrugged. "Santana said he won't want me there, but she insists that I come for when he does."

Tony nodded. It sounded an awful lot like his own grief process. When he had lost his parents, he had sunk himself into making sure everyone else was taken care of, more concerned with administration than with actually confronting what he had happened. If he was honest with himself, he still hadn't taken the time to map out his feelings. He probably never would. "That sounds like a good idea. Just keep us in the loop, yeah?"

If anyone wanted proof that Tony Stark had a heart, that would be it.

"Thanks, Tony. I really appreciate everything you've done for them."

"They're good kids who deserve more. Finn sounded important to them."

"He was," Steve muttered.

Tony longed to distance himself from this moment, when feelings became too raw, too exposed, and he would have to talk about them. "Well, the jet should be landing on the roof in twenty. If they need more time, they've got it."

"With the speed Kurt is packing, they should be fine."

Tony lingered in the space a little and Steve smiled softly.

"You can go, Tony. Thank you."

Tony dipped his head and sped off in another direction, happy to help but wanting to be as far away from the emotions as he possibly could be.

Steve stared at the direction he knew Kurt's room to be in, albeit on another floor and sighed at how he longed to hold Kurt in his arms and whisper assurances to him and how that was the last thing that Kurt was going to want right now.


"I don't want you to come with us," Kurt muttered, gazing up into Steve's blue eyes.

Steve remembered Santana's earlier words and sighed. "I'm coming. I want to be there for you."

Santana winced and shook her head. "I asked him to come, Kurt. I'll need him there too."

Kurt, realising that Steve's presence would benefit Santana, narrowed his eyes slightly. "Fine. But please give me my space."

"Of course," Steve whispered. "Anything."

Kurt walked ahead of them to the plane that Tony had procured for them, taking his and Santana's bags.

Natasha had had the foresight to pack a bag for Steve while everything was happening and the man was eternally grateful for her silent, unyielding support in such an odd time.

Santana leaned into Steve. "Stop with the hero stuff. Just be his boyfriend. He can't have you vowing to move mountains from him. Remember, at this time in his life, he feels like he can't have nice things. So just…be there. Try not to say much."

Steve nodded as he watched Kurt board the plane.

"How are you doing?" Steve replied, filing away her information for the next few days.

Santana shook her head. "I can't think about that right now. Kurt needs me."

In just a short space of time, Steve understood their relationship infinitely more than he did before Burt called.


Santana took a seat at the back of the plane, Kurt choosing the front, while Steve opted for a seat in between both of them, ensuring he was equidistant from them should they need him.

He glanced back at Santana every few minutes, hoping the girl didn't feel smothered by his method of care. He watched her subtly wipe a tear from her eye, her eyes blazing into his when she had realised she'd been caught. Steve gave her a subtle nod and turned back to the front, where he watched Kurt instead. The boy hadn't moved since he sat down. He was so still that someone who didn't know him as well as Steve did would presume he was asleep. Steve knew that he was just trying to process. He likely wasn't crying, but it was killing Steve that he had to keep his distance. He knew this was just the way Kurt was handling everything and trying to keep himself together, but it went against every fibre of Steve's body that wanted to cradle him and tell him he could fix things. Even though he couldn't. Finn would be dead no matter what Steve did to try and change that.

From the stories Kurt had told him about Finn, he was a very special person and Steve would likely garner more evidence of this in Lima. He knew what it was like to lose people and his heart went out to everyone who knew Finn, carving out the biggest spaces for the two people either side of him who would be swept back up into their pasts while grieving for their friend and brother.


"I need to pick out something for Carole," Kurt said evenly before dashing off to the shops at the airport.

Steve, deep in his layman disguise, turned to Santana.

Santana eyed him carefully. "If you're about to talk about what happened on the plane, I'd prefer it if you didn't."

Steve nodded. "Just checking in."

"This is hard for me. I wasn't always the nicest to Finn. I made comments about his weight even though he was in good shape. I insulted his dancing, I even orchestrated a breakup with his girlfriend in junior year. I slapped him more than a few times."

If Steve reacted at all to that, he didn't show it.

She sighed and composed herself. "I'm not going to be able to say this to anyone else so it's going to have to be you. There's a part of me that doesn't deserve to be grieving so hard for him. I don't feel worthy of feeling sad and missing him because I was so awful to him. But we…I was his first time and that still meant something to him, even if the actual act didn't mean anything to either of us. It was just something we did. He was trying to get over Rachel and I was trying to…prove something to myself, I guess. No matter the situation, we're always connected in that way. But that's cancelled out by how cruel I was. For me to stroll in Lima with his brother after having cried about it? I'm going to have to face his mother. If I wasn't for Kurt, I probably wouldn't have gone back at all."

Steve knew that it probably wasn't how she coped, but he reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing it just firmly enough to let her know that he cared. "You're a good person, Santana."

"You don't have to say that just because I overshared."

"I didn't. And I want you to know that I'm not just here for Kurt. You're my friend too. I know I have a tendency to go overboard, but whatever you need. I mean it."

Santana sighed softly, as though she was scared of a sob following close by. "Thanks, Steve."

Steve knew that that was likely the best he was going to get.


As Kurt approached Steve and Santana, bouquet of flowers in hand, he knew that something had been said while he was gone. The air felt different, it no longer clung to Santana like a storm cloud, some of her anxiety had been lifted and he knew that Steve had done it because he knew how it felt to have Steve in his corner. He knew that he was being unfair pushing Steve away when the man's tendencies pointed towards coddling and making sure he was okay, but he just couldn't handle it. Not now at least, but maybe sometime after the memorial. He just couldn't stop his mind from wanting to shove Steve into a box and send him away. A reminder of something good in his life when the worst had happened wasn't what Kurt wanted, and it wasn't how he operated. He knew that Steve was starting to pick up on that as he leaned more towards Santana when he stood, feet turned towards her, ready to protect her if he needed to. Steve Rogers was always on standby for danger.

He looked down at the colourful flowers he held a little too tightly and sighed. It wasn't how he would have arranged them, but the speed of everything had left him with no time to do things as he would have liked. He hoped Carole would see this and not feel disappointed that he had come up short. Her son had died and her remaining child was returning for the memorial with an inadequate floral arrangement and the introduction of his boyfriend that he had kept secret from them since they started dating. Kurt held back the sight that crept up his throat. This was another reason Steve being there would complicate things.

Burt and Carole weren't stupid people, they wouldn't fall for any of Steve's lacklustre disguises. A cheap baseball cap and sunglasses weren't going to fool anybody, least of all them. They would have more questions for him, ones that he didn't particularly feel like answering when it came down to it. He wondered how much attention Steve would draw at the service and whether it would be best for him to wait outside or at the house instead. He didn't know Finn, he'd probably feel awkward being there, and it was unfair to those who couldn't make it, wasn't it? Kurt didn't know anything anymore.

Steve wordlessly picked up all of their bags and carried them with ease. Kurt filed that away from future shopping trips before returning to busybody mode.

"What are you thinking?" Santana's soft voice pressed against his ear as she sidled up to him as they walked towards the airport exit.

Kurt didn't want to relay his concerns because he knew how stupid and superficial they were. Finn Hudson was dead and Kurt was off thinking about the suitability of his boyfriend for the memorial or how good the shopping trips would be. "I never heard how he died."

Santana looped her arm through his free one as Steve trailed behind them, mouth tight. "Do you want to know?"

Kurt nodded. "I think I have to. I want to know what was so important that it had to take my brother's life. And who I may have to hunt down."

"Kurt…"

"I know, I'm being stupid. Let's just go."

Kurt soon spotted an elderly gentleman holding up a sign that said "Kurt, Santana, and Steve" and he wanted to smile at Tony's foresight. The muscles in his face wouldn't quite let him smile, the thought of his dead brother clouding over everything else.

Kurt quickly climbed into the passenger seat before Steve could pull him into the back, wanting to hold his hand and support him through the journey. Kurt cursed his own brain for not letting this wonderful man hold him up through his whirlwind of grief. He just couldn't, because he knew that once he leaned on Steve, that was it, the floodgates would open and he would be a wreck for who even knew how long. He had to hold himself together at least through the memorial service and then he could deal with the rest later. He had his old friends to see, people to greet, things to sort out.

Steve sat in the seat behind Kurt so that he was out of the way, a choice which Santana gave an approving nod. He hated this. He hated feeling so utterly useless, but he had to accept that Kurt knew himself best. He would come to Steve when he really needed him, Steve knew that much. It probably wouldn't be that day or perhaps the next, but he would come. He had to.

Steve was somewhat relieved that Santana had accepted some of his comfort, possibly in an attempt to make him feel better as it didn't seem to make a difference to her. He knew that it was hard for her, in an entirely different way to how it was hard for Kurt, but he just had to keep himself there and ready for them if they needed him. And if they didn't, well that was okay too.


The entire drive to the house was silent. Steve thought he heard Kurt sniffling a few times but he may have just imagined it. Every glance he stole at the man in the mirror showed completely stoicism.

As soon as the driver pulled up outside and they retrieved their bags, the air changed. Kurt caught sight of his old home, one where his brother wouldn't be, and his knees threatened to pull out from under him. He took his bags from Steve just to have something to hold to keep him upright.

They quickly thanked the driver and lugged their things towards the front door.

Santana knocked on the door and took the deepest breath she'd ever heaved.

A teary Burt Hummel greeted them. Kurt hadn't seen his father cry since his mother's funeral. Santana just felt very uncomfortable. Steve had his head so tilted down it was starting to hurt his neck.

Burt welcomed them in silently, putting their bags to the side for the time being.

Kurt launched himself at his father and began to cry. "I miss him, Dad."

"I know, kiddo. Me too."

And that was as eloquent as Steve figured the Hummels were about to get about how they felt about Finn that day. It was all they needed. Kurt ha told him that he and his father operated in a sort of shorthand, so in tune with each other's needs and processes that they didn't require many words.

Carole appeared behind him and immediately flocked to Santana, maternal energy filling her up with nowhere for her to put it. Santana accepted the tight hug and her eyes fluttered closed, tears spilling out of them.

"I'm so sorry, Carole."

Carole wasn't crying, but her face betrayed that she had likely had been for hours. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. "It's okay."

Steve felt his throat start to tighten as everyone grieved around him.

Burt noticed him after unwrapping himself from Kurt. "This your driver or something. Does he need paying? I think I've got some cash somewhere."

Steve smartly waited for Kurt to take the lead.

Kurt cleared his throat. "No. Dad. This is…Steve. My boyfriend."

"He's wearing a baseball cap."

"Steve," Kurt sighed and Steve knew was about to happen. He quietly removed his cap and glasses and faced Burt and Carole with an expectant sigh.

"Why do you look so familiar?" Burt grunted. "Wait a minute. Steve? As in…no fucking way."

"Dad, please don't."

"Aren't you like a hundred years old?"

"Dad," Kurt pressed again, putting a hand on his arm.

"I think we should just talk about this later," Steve intoned. He turned to Carole. "I'm very sorry for your loss, ma'am. Kurt always spoke very highly of Finn."

Carole smiled and welcome Steve with a hug. "Thank you, Steve. I'm glad Kurt has you here."

Steve was amazed at the strength and grace Carole was exuding during the pangs of grief that came with the darkest time of her whole life. One look at Burt Hummel told him that he was not yet in the clear, though.

"We'll talk about this later," Burt said shortly, sending a powerful glare at Steve. Now he knew where Kurt had got it from.

"Where should I take the bags?"

Carole thought for a moment. "There's room for two in the guest room." Her polite smile faded.

Kurt understood immediately. "Someone might have to stay in Finn's room."

A pregnant silence fell over the house.

Santana's face fell at the prospect of staying in there.

"I don't mind," Steve muttered. "You can stay in your old room and Santana can take the guest room if you want."

"Okay," Kurt said simply. Santana shot him a grateful look.

Carole's breath hitched. "If you head up the stairs, it's the first door on your left. There's a b-bathroom in there too. The guest room is at the end of the hallway"

Kurt grabbed his bag. "I'll take mine to the basement."

Steve nodded as they moved into the kitchen, hoisting his and Santana's bags into his arms and climbing the stairs with ease.

He opened the door to Finn's room and gently dropped his things on the floor before taking Santana's to the guest room.

By instinct, he quickly found the bathroom and took a moment to himself, allowing Santana and the family a moment to themselves. He suddenly wondered if he'd made a mistake in ignoring Kurt's request and coming to Lima.

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Nat.

Arrived okay. Wondering whether I did the right thing.

Her reply was instantaneous.

Send them our love. Hang in there, Steve, Kurt will appreciate it later. How's Santana?

Thank you. She's doing better, I think, we had a talk at the airport while Kurt was gone and I think she needed to say things she couldn't say to him.

See, you're helping her. You're doing the right thing. Don't overthink this. Let me know if anyone needs anything. Tony's itching to help and Clint's mad he wasn't here to do more when it happened.

I love you guys.

We love you too, Steve.

Steve was overcome by emotion at Natasha's thoughtful and couldn't believe that some people still regarded her as cold and unfeeling when she was one of the most caring people he knew. It was like with Kurt. When they were in your corner, you could do anything and they would be right there alongside you, ready to help.

He just hoped that he could do the same for them.


Dinner was a tense affair. It was as though nobody really wanted to speak, but felt like they had to because they were all gathered together. Santana had offered to head to Brittany's house and eat there, but Carole had insisted that she stay as she'd overdone the food. She had forgotten that Finn was no longer there for dinner and made his usual large helping. She had broken down a few times in the process, but Kurt and Burt had been there to lift her back up.

Santana and Steve had sat in the living room, having offered to help with the food but were politely rebuffed. Steve understood that Carole would want to do things herself to keep herself busy. Santana just felt utterly lost.

Kurt poked at his vegetables as a rare smile swept across his face.

Everyone's eyes fell on him and he shrunk back slightly.

"I was just thinking about the time Finn dressed in a shower curtain."

Santana smiled back at him as Steve, Burt, and Carole all frowned.

Kurt composed himself quickly. "It was during Gaga week in Glee Club. After what went down in the basement…" Kurt stopped himself, realising that that story opened up a not-so gleaming portrayal of Finn Hudson.

Carole smiled weakly. "It's okay, Kurt. Keep going."

Kurt shook his head fondly. "He kept trying to apologise and make things up to me but didn't quite know how. At the end of the week, the jocks were giving me a hard time and he swooped into the hallway dressed in a red shower curtain that he'd fashioned into a dress, leading the Glee Club to come and defend me." Laughter took over as everyone pictured it. "I don't even know how he got it like that."

Santana had realised that smiling didn't make any less of her grief and let it happen. "I think he asked Tina for help."

"So that's what happened to my shower curtain," Carole squeezed out, tears of laughter dripping down her face, chest heavy from laughing. "Finn said he lost it."

Steve chuckled along with the story, putting what he knew of the boy to the pictures he had seen and was starting to get an impression of why Finn meant so much to everyone.

Several more stories were told about Finn, one from each of them before Kurt couldn't deny himself any longer. The laughter faded, smiles faded, and their grief hung over the table once again as he prepared to put his mind at ease.

"I…" He began uneasily. "I…didn't get a chance to ask earlier…how it…"

Burt placed his hand atop Carole's as he took over for her. "Finn had…started working at this mover's company in Cleveland. It was pretty good money and doubled as a workout with lifting all these heavy things. Finn thought it was cool that he got to see what people's homes were like and see if matched them."

Kurt nodded. Santana ducked her head.

Burt coughed. "He was really enjoying it. He made quite a lot of tip money, too. One day he was moving stuff into an apartment. A homeless woman had just sorted her first apartment in a few years and she was really excited. It wasn't much but it was something. As they were moving stuff in, she was unpacking. When Finn and his partner went out to get another load of boxes, a fire started.

"His partner, Jeremy, tried to stop him, but he ran in to save the woman. He got her and himself out just fine, but the smoke inhalation was too much. We thought he was fine."

Carole put her head in her hands and sobbed gently as Burt tried desperately to hold himself together.

Kurt wordlessly put his foot atop Steve's, which was the most contact they had had since they left New York. Steve didn't move an inch.

"I don't know what I was hoping for," Kurt replied. "Part of me wished it was someone else's fault, just so there was someone to blame. But Finn would never have let her die in there."

Santana lifted her head, fresh tears springing to her eyes. "I'm glad it…well not glad, but…I don't know what I mean."

Carole sniffled. "I do. You're glad that he died doing something good, something that he knew was the right thing."

Santana nodded softly. That was exactly it.

Kurt gripped his fork tightly. "I…um…do we have to call…anyone?"

Burt shook his head. "We took care of it. Everyone's on their way."

"How is she?" Santana asked carefully.

Nobody had to clarify who she was.

"She held it together on the phone," Burt sniffed. "She just said that she'd be there and hung up. I tried calling her back but she declined."

"She's going to be a mess," Kurt whispered.

"You don't have to take care of her, Kurt," Carole sighed.

"I'll feel guilty if I don't."

Carole smoothed down her top and took a breath. "Kurt…I know this might be a lot to ask, but…would you mind singing something?"

"I'd love to, but I don't know if I can." He looked to Santana. "Would you help?"

"I think this is something you have to do on your own. Finn always loved it when you sang."

"I'll do it," Kurt uttered.

Choosing his moment carefully, Steve slowly lifted himself from his seat. "I'll clear up."

Nobody fought him, all content to let somebody else pick up after them for once.

Steve arranged the plates and cutlery and piled them all high, taking them into the kitchen. He was starting to wash them when he felt a presence appear at his side.

"You want some help?"

Steve shook his head and turned to face Burt Hummel. "I've got it."

Burt shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned on the counter. "I know this isn't the 'later' you wanted, but I have to know. Just what the hell are you doing with my son?"

Steve decided it would be easier to talk whilst doing the dishes, therefore avoiding a lot of direct eye contact with his boyfriend's father. "I…I love Kurt, sir. And he loves me too. I don't know how much he's told you…"

"He's told me nothing," Burt interjected, sighing. "Probably because he knew I'd react like this."

"At some point, you should probably talk to him about it. All you need to know from me is that I would protect your son with my life and you know that I'm qualified to do that. He has the whole team looking out for him."

Burt nodded, lips hinting a smile he desperately didn't want to give. "I suppose you guys are pretty well-equipped to look after him."

"Everyone loves him. They're all beside themselves that they can't do more to help him right now."

"At first I was concerned that you weren't looking at each other," Burt swallowed heavily, "but then I remembered what Kurt is like when he grieves. He withdraws, he micro-manages, he does everything he can to avoid giving into himself."

Steve nodded quickly. "Santana figured it would be that way. He told me not to come, but she insisted that I did. I apologise for just appearing unannounced."

Burt waved a hand. "It's fine. Circumstances are weird. You're not too bad, Steve. I'm glad you're here for him."

"I'm very glad you feel that way. I know it's the most common of situations."

"The fact that you fought in World War II?"

Steve chuckled quietly. "To answer your earlier question, I actually technically turn one hundred next month."

Burt snorted. "Happy birthday?"

"I know you're not thrilled about it. But I lost nearly seventy years of that. Technically I'm thirty four. I know that's still not what you'd expect, but I don't think it matters too much."

"I still think you're too old for him. But I know my son enough to know not to fight him on it. Especially not now."

"How are you holding up? I know, stupid question, but…"

Burt dragged a hand down his face. "Finn feels like my son in every way that counts. Felt. I just miss having him around already, you know? The house just feels emptier without him."

Burt felt himself growing emotional and needed to still be intimidating for Kurt's new Avenger boyfriend. "Anyway, we'll be in the living room when you're done. Thanks for doing this."

Steve was plunged back into silence once again, the only occasional sounds coming from the splashing of the water as he cleaned up. His hands shook as he put the next plate on the side to drain.

As he felt a droplet of water connect with his hand, Steve had to wonder whether it was water from the sink or a tear from his suddenly damp eyes.