As far as Finn Hudson was concerned, this was not happening.
They were not here. In the city morgue.
It was just too much to wrap his brain around. He couldn't even look at Burt, and Carole just held on to both of their hands.
Finn fought the urge to pull away from her with every fiber of his being and run the hell away from there. There was no way they were going to ask him to identify Kurt's body. Carole had already asked him to break the news to Burt, surely, somebody else could officially sign off on things like his belongings and verify what had happened.
Mr. Schue had gone to the hospital with Lauren to the hospital to be with Puck, leaving the parents (who were none too happy about that prospect) to deal with the police and the Medical Examiners and sign off on personal effects.
Finn couldn't really find fault with that. Someone needed to keep an eye on Puck until his mom could get a flight out, but after Burt exploded at his teacher at the airport, Finn got the impression that Mr. Schue just wanted an excuse to get away.
Not that Finn could blame him.
"You the people here about the bus accident kids from Ohio?" a tired Medical Examiner in bloodied scrubs asked.
Burt nodded.
"Hummel," he said after a long while. "Kurt Hummel. I…can I see him?"
"We can't release the body yet. We're not yet finished with the autopsy."
"What the hell is there to find out?" Burt growled. "A sheet of metal sliced through him. You're telling me I can't…" he sucked in a breath. "That I can't…" Finn could tell that Burt's anger was the only thing keeping him from breaking down in tears altogether. "…that I can't say goodbye to my kid because you've got to test for that or somethin'?"
"Sir, we just need to verify a few things and then we can release the body and then…."
"How long's that going to take?" Carole asked.
"I don't know. Look, we…we're not usually this busy," the Medical Examiner faltered. "Your son isn't the only one who…"
"Burt, come on, honey," Carole urged. "It's going to be awhile. We can give them our cell phone numbers and then go to the hotel. They'll call us when he's…when they're done."
They were about to leave when the strains of I'll Cover You sounded from one of the bins on the shelf just above their heads.
"Damn phone has been going off all day," the Medical Examiner said shaking her head in annoyance. "That has to be the fiftieth time in the past hour alone."
"That's Kurt's ring-tone for Blaine," Finn said. "Oh man… nobody got in touch with Blaine, did they?" he asked Mercedes.
"I didn't. Did you?"
Finn shook his head, and shot a questioning glance at Carole.
"He's in the middle of finals, Mom. He's liable to skip out on them altogether and take the next red-eye out just to be here, and I just...it's his senior year and if he blows his future because of this…"
"Finn, it's all over the news," Santana said, showing him her Twitter feed which had just exploded with hash-tags about a bus accident full of glee club kids. "He needs to hear from us."
Finn sighed and just shook his head. "If I tell him, he'll hate me forever."
"Fine," Santana sighed. "I'll call Kurt's little hobbit. He already hates me anyway."
She stepped away from the crowd and scrolled down the list of contacts to Blaine's name.
"Hey, Blaine?" Santana said. "You need to promise me you're not going to freak the hell out, okay?"
There was a beat.
"Fucking hell, Blaine, you just promised me you weren't going to freak the hell out! So," she sighed. "Shit happened, Blaine. Kurt's kind of…unavailable to answer the phone. Oh, I so SUCK at breaking bad news. No, Kurt's not okay." There was a beat and then her lip trembled and her voice softened in a way that sounded completely alien to Santana's usual tone. "Kurt's dead, Blaine. He was one of the ones who were killed in the accident. I…" there was a long pause then. "Blaine…I need you to breathe. Is there someone there with you? Please for the love of GOD tell me you're not by yourself right now. You're just going to have to take a deep breath. Come on Blaine. Take a deep breath and put Wes on the phone for me, okay? Wes…yeah, stay with him. Make sure you and Carlton…fine, David, whatever. Make sure you don't let him out of your sight until we can get back, okay? We'll call you back as soon as we know more. I've gotta go now…"
"So we'll go back to the hotel?" Carole prodded.
Burt nodded, and they left.
Finn hoped that Blaine was going to be okay, because he sure as hell didn't know if he was going to be able to survive this himself.
Being dead, as it turned out, was such an adjustment.
Kurt wasn't sure if he liked Rube yet, and he didn't know quite what to make of George. How could anyone just…not give a shit about anything and pride themselves on it? Mason was an idiot, but there was something endearing about him that reminded Kurt of Finn in a lot of ways, if Finn was British and into drugs. And Daisy? Daisy was fabulous. They played fashion police on the plane ride over, and Kurt loved her ever since.
The fashion police game started as a way to help him cope with the first time it registered that he was well and truly dead and not mostly alive. Before, he could sort of detach himself from the situation. Even after seeing the autopsy, it wasn't really his body as far as he was concerned, because there were so many pieces and yes, it was his face and his jacket and the clothes that he was wearing, but still, it wasn't really...real yet.
But when that first person walked right through him like he was air? THAT was pretty much the most disturbing thing ever.
Even more disturbing still was not being hungry, not being tired, not needing bodily functions that were a normal part of every-day living because he was no longer corporeal. He could smell the food in the house at the moment, but it didn't make him hungry. The night before they'd left for the airport to go to Columbus, he'd only laid down out of sheer boredom.
'So this is what they meant when they said funerals are for the living,' Kurt thought as he walked through the door. Carole greeted Rube with a thin, confused smile.
"Friends of the family," Rube said. "So sorry for your loss."
And there was another thing that took some getting used to...
Being invited in to his own house.
But then, it really wasn't his anymore. That wasn't his room upstairs and didn't even know most of the people who currently occupied his house. He was kind of surprised Carole didn't ask his new companions who they were, but he was more surprised he didn't see his father in the small crowd.
He did, however, recognize a couple of faces though. There were some of the girls from the Cheerios talking in hushed tones in the kitchen. There were even some of his teachers there. He wasn't surprised to see Mrs. Duval, his French teacher, talking with Mrs. Pillsbury. He would've been more surprised if Uncle Gary from the shop wasn't there. He wasn't really an uncle, but he was Kurt's godfather, and Kurt couldn't remember a time when Uncle Gary wasn't around.
There were a couple of regular customers Kurt recognized from the shop and even Aunt Trisha on his mother's side had come all the way from Arizona. She'd always sent him birthday presents, and he expected her to send a card or flowers, but he never expected to see her sobbing over a photo album with Carole, whom she'd never met before.
Mr. Weaver, his history teacher, wasn't someone he thought he'd see here at all. Mr. Weaver gave him dirty looks whenever he commented about Hoover's cross-dressing tendencies or the sexual orientation of former presidents and historical figures. But there he was, bawling over a bowl of Chex Mix.
It was even weirder when Mr. Weaver sat on him. When that kid walked through him at the airport it was traumatizing enough, but this? He knew he didn't need to breathe so he wasn't suffocating, but he felt like he might as well have been.
After that, he decided that sitting down for the duration of their stay would be a categorically bad idea.
"I still don't get why we're here," Kurt said as Rube sat down with a piece of blueberry pie.
"You should taste this pie. It's delicious."
"I don't have a body," Kurt said, pointing out the obvious.
" 'Course not."
"I'm dead. I can't."
"My point exactly. You want to savor the benefits of being alive? Feel the wind on your face? Have a bite of this spectacular blueberry pie?"
"Severe weather is bad for the complexion."
"Work with me here, I'm making a point. I interacted with your stepmother because I'm undead. It's the same reason I can enjoy the goodness of this perfect blueberry pie. When you get your new body, so will you."
"What if I don't want to get a new body?"
Rube just shrugged. "That is not a question you get to ask. But you'll get a body in a couple of days. That'll stop soon."
"Why do I have to wait?"
"Dunno," Kurt said. "For now, just enjoy the wake."
"Enjoy the wake…enjoy?" he muttered, shaking his head, and decided to wander. Mr. Schue was sitting in his dad's favorite chair, staring blankly at nothing in particular on the wall.
Coach Sylvester of all people, donning a black track suit for the occasion, pulled up a chair next to him.
"Sue, if you're here to make a crack about my hair or my chin or my kids…just don't. Not today, okay?"
"William, I was just going to say that I can't even imagine what you're going through. I may have given you and your kids a hard time, and I might have questioned your teaching methods, your sanity and your unnatural obsession with synthetic-wool sweater vests, but you were there for me when my sister passed away, so now, let me return the favor. If there's anything I can do for you, and I mean anything, just let me know. I don't really pray, but if I did, you'd be on the list."
Kurt felt awkward, watching the exchanges, and decided to venture into the den, where he found Tina and Lauren.
He'd never seen them so still or so quiet.
Santana had just plopped down on the couch next to Tina with a couple of plates of food.
"Here," she said, handing her one.
"Th-th-thanks," Tina stuttered.
"God this sucks," Santana said.
"Um…you're s-s-s-sup-p-posed to w-w-wear black," Tina finally managed when Santana sat down next to her.
"That stutter used to be fake," Kurt whispered to Mason.
"Why are you whispering?" Mason asked in a mock-whisper of his own. "No one can here you."
"What?" Santana protested. "I look nice. And besides…" she said with a sigh, "this is the one Kurt approved for our Junior Prom and I just…you know…I wanted to wear it as a tribute. Also? Drop the stutter," Santana said. "Your cover was blown a long time ago."
Tina turned her back and fixed her gaze on the wall.
"Hey…" Santana said, putting a hand awkwardly on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, okay?"
'Santana? Being sensitive?' Kurt wondered. 'What was wrong with this picture?
"Fucking vegetables," Santana said as she bit down contemptuously on a celery stick. "Nobody really eats them except for anorexics and porkers. We're in mourning people. Can we at least have some decent food, here, please?"
There. That sounded more like her.
"Seriously," Lauren drawled. "I had to get my secret stash of Double-Stuff Oreos out of the glove-box."
"Give it," Santana ordered.
"Get. Your. Own," Lauren glowered.
Santana rolled her eyes and Kurt took stock of the rest of the people in the room.
It was odd that Finn wasn't there. Or Mercedes. Or Puck. What really surprised him, though, was that his dad was nowhere to be found.
"Do you mind?" Santana barked when Mason sat down on the couch next to her.
Mason could only eye her warily and walk away.
"She's scary," Mason said.
Kurt had to agree.
"Any news on Puckerman?" Santana asked Lauren.
"Puck…what the hell happened to Puck?" Kurt asked.
"They transferred him to a long-term care rehab facility in Hudson," Lauren said. "I don't think he's going to be playing Rock Band any time soon, but I've got him beta-reading my Twilight slash fic with his new-found spare time, so I call that a win. What? Don't judge."
The doorbell rang again for what had to be the hundredth time, and his heart tightened a bit in his chest when Blaine appeared on the other side with his mother, Wes and David.
"Mrs. Hummel, I don't believe we've formally met," Mrs. Anderson said, offering a hand. "I'm Donna Anderson."
"Of course! You're Blaine's mom. Nice to finally put a face with the voice."
"I just wish it were under better circumstances. I…" but Carole wasn't listening. She threw her arms around Blaine, ushering him in.
"Blaine, honey," Carole said, ushering him in. "We've been so worried about you. You won't return Finn's or Mercedes' calls and well…I didn't think it was my place to…"
"I'm fine," Blaine answered, smiling a little too brightly. "Feeling very Zen about the whole thing, actually. At least this way, we're never going to break up, right?"
"Blaine…" Kurt whispered.
"Is that the boyfriend?" Daisy asked.
Kurt nodded.
Mrs. Anderson and Carole exchanged wary looks and Wes gave Carole one that clearly said 'See what we have to deal with?'
"Mrs. Hummel," Wes said. "On behalf of the Warblers, I would just like to offer my deepest condolences."
David handed her a small, square-shaped envelope. "Since not all the Warblers could be here today, we've recorded a message for your family. We didn't know the rest of New Directions very well, but, well, we enjoyed the friendly rivalry, and it's...I'm not quite sure if I've been able to wrap my brain around what's happened, but our hearts go out to you and if there's anything we can do to help…"
"Thank you," Carole mumbled. "I…uh, I think the Glee Club is in the den if you want to join them. Most of them anyway. Not Finn," she added bitterly.
"Where's Finn?" Blaine asked.
"Upstairs. I can't get him to come out of his room. He...I don't think he wants to see anyone right now, Blaine."
"So, I'll go and cheer him up. He owes me a round of Mario Kart." Blaine turned to Wes and David. "You guys okay to hang out in the den?"
Wes nodded. "Blaine," David said, physically blocking Blaine from getting past him. "Mario Kart can wait. You are NOT going up there."
"What? Really guys, I'm totally fine. Go ahead, Wes. I know you've been anxious to see Santana."
"Don't make me use my gavel, Blaine," Wes said.
"Listen to your friends dear," Mrs. Anderson said as Kurt made his way upstairs.
"You want me to go with you?" Daisy asked. "I can pretend like I'm looking for the bathroom."
Kurt shook his head. "Stay here," Kurt hissed. "And Mason?" He said, who was eyeing a silver picture frame hanging on the wall.
"That your Mum?" Mason asked.
"Don't. Touch. Anything." Kurt ordered.
"I'm supposed to face them how, exactly?" Finn was saying. He wasn't shouting, but he was definitely angry. The door was closed, but one of the (few) perks of being non-corporeal was that this particular fact was irrelevant.
Mercedes was leaning against Finn's dresser with her arms folded. Kurt could still see the tears streaked down her face and he wanted nothing more than to hug her, but he couldn't.
He knew they weren't all devastated over just him. He wasn't the only one who had died that day. Rachel, Quinn, Britt, Artie…all of them…they were all wonderful, talented people and their lives had been cut brutally short just like his, but more than anything, he just wanted to tell them that they were all okay, that he was okay.
Although he knew it would fall on deaf ears.
So he just listened.
"What are you going to do in a week when we have to go back to school? You can't stay holed up in here forever."
"My brother's gone, Mercedes. All of them… they died right in front of me and I couldn't do a damn thing to help them and you want me to just deal? I don't think I can do that. And I just…just leave me alone, okay?"
"Damn, Finn," Mercedes said. "I always thought you were a fool, but I never thought you were a coward. You're our Captain, Finn. We need leadership right now, because Lord knows Mr. Schue isn't gonna step up to the plate. You need to decide. Are you gonna step up or are you just gonna check out? I know you're hurting. Well," she faltered as she sniffled, "newsflash. So'm I. Kurt would kick your ass right now if he knew you were treating your mom like this."
"Like what?" Kurt asked, knowing nobody would answer. "What've you been doing to Carole?"
"After she made me make that call…I dunno…I know I offered to do it, but I needed her to be the adult and take care of it, and she just...I'm just so mad, Mercedes."
He started sobbing in earnest and Mercedes wrapped her arms around him. "It's okay to be mad, Finn. It's hard for everyone. But we've got to be here for each other now more than ever. Because right now, we're all we've got. And don't take this out on your mom. She needs you, too."
"I can't face her. Or Burt. I think he's mad at me for being the one to survive. And I just…" Finn sniffled and his body started shaking in silent sobs again, but Mercedes held him tighter. "You're right though. He'd totally bitch me out."
"Yes, I would," Kurt said, glad to know that Mercedes was looking out for his family.
"What the hell are you doing upstairs, Mason?" Kurt hissed as soon as he saw Mason heading out of his bedroom door.
"I swiped your i-pod," Mason bragged.
Whatever Kurt was going to say was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing.
"I told him it was a bad idea, Mrs. Hummel," a voice Kurt couldn't quite recognize said hastily. "I'm sorry, we'll just…"
Kurt couldn't exactly say why he was surprised to see Dave Karofsky in the doorway with Blaine, but he was.
"I just…I wanted to pay my respects," Karofsky muttered.
"That was what the funeral was for. After all you've put this family through, you have the nerve to show up here…I think…"
But Carole didn't have a chance to finish her sentence.
"Dave!" Blaine crowed. "Good to see you!" He said.
Then, Blaine balled his hand in a fist, and punched him. Hard. Square in the nose.