A/N: This chapter has been a bear to write, and I'm not quite sure why. Part of me thinks it's because I know that I am coming to the end of this fic and I don't know what I'll do when there are no more chapters to write. And part of me couldn't bring myself to write anything after we lost Cory. I hope that my writing honors him, the character he played, and the couple he loved so much. There are only two more chapters to go in Emma's journey with Finn and Rachel.
i.
Normalcy. The caseworker said they were supposed to establish a sense of normalcy for Emma and do all the things that they would do if she had been born their daughter. Family life suited him. It was nice to wake up every morning to a wife and daughter. It seemed simple and easy to handle. Get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner with Emma and Rachel, and go to bed. The routine was normal and relaxing, even if he had no idea how Rachel was managing her hectic rehearsal schedule now that Emma was a regular part of their lives.
"Rach, what's this for?" The packet on the counter had Emma's full name neatly written on a label, as if he needed a reminder that she was not a Hudson—not really their daughter.
"Montessori school, remember?" Rachel pressed his coffee cup into his hand and reached to straighten his tie. "My fathers sent me to a Montessori preschool to begin my education when I was two years old so that I would have a well rounded start before I began elementary school. It contributed greatly to my educational success."
"Emma's four; do you really think it's a good idea?" He glanced over his shoulder for the little girl. "We aren't even sure how long she'll be with us."
"For as long as she lives with us she'll live the life we'd give our own daughter. And we've talked about a Montessori preschool for our children." Rachel paused, chewing her bottom lip. "She can't go to rehearsals with me every day, and the children's center isn't meant to be a daycare. She needs structure. And January is the perfect time to get her situated into a new school."
"I take it the forms are already all filled out, and I just have to sign?" The papers slid out of the envelope, and he swiftly signed his name. "She's already enrolled, isn't she?"
"I went by yesterday." Her smile was so bright that it was impossible to be irritated with her. "All we have to do is sign a few forms and take Emma for the tour. It will be good for her, Finn. She needs to live a normal life, and children her age should have all the benefits their parents can afford to give them."
"I know, I know, this preschool will give her a head start on learning to read and write, and she'll get to experiment in art and music." He'd heard the speech so many times that he'd memorized it word for word.
"I thought since you don't have to go into work until later today and I don't have rehearsal we might take her this morning for a half day." Emma stumbled into the room sleepily tugging Beary along behind her, and Finn scooped her up, setting her on the stool next to him.
"G'morning," the words were slurred by sleepiness, and Rachel offered the little girl a soft smile.
"Well Em, Miss Rachel beat me to the kitchen so there is a distinct lack of chocolate chip pancakes. I guess cereal or frozen waffles will just have to do the trick this morning."
"Cereal please." Rachel's eyes widened when Finn slid off his stool and moved to pull out a box of Lucky Charms from under the cabinet; clearly someone had ignored the only healthy cereal in the apartment rule. "Thank you."
Two bowls were poured, much to Rachel's dismay, and as they ate everything seemed so perfectly normal. Rachel surveyed the picture perfect scene before her: Emma and Finn eating cereal together, Finn pausing to teasingly threaten to steal a marshmallow from Emma's bowl while Emma squealed no, and Finn raising his hands in defeat. She could get used to having a family like this. It would be so easy to live this life. But she forced herself to remember that Emma was not really theirs; they were just a stop on her journey to finding a loving family. One day the caseworker would come and this would all be over.
"Today is a big day!" Rachel practically chirped the words as she carried the empty bowl that once held fruit, yogurt, and granola to the sink. "Remember what we talked about last night?"
"I got to go to 'sorri school." Emma did not match Rachel's enthusiasm, and Finn almost winced. "But I don't want to go to school. I want to stay with you and go to 'hearsal and to see Miss San. I don't know anybody at 'sorri school."
"I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends at the new preschool Emma Bear, and you'll have lots of fun." There was a pause as Emma considered her foster parent's with wide eyes. "And today is only for a half day so you can look around. If you don't like it then you don't have to stay or even go back."
"But I'm sure you'll like it there." Rachel cut in quickly. "There will be lots of things to do like art and music and games. And I just know you'll have so much fun!"
Reluctantly Emma nodded, and after breakfast Finn's offer of a bath with bubbles brightened her mood substantially. Rachel coaxed her into a new purple dress and her new sneakers, though attempts to teach her to tie her shoelaces were still fairly futile, and when Finn peeked into the room she was sitting in Rachel's lap while her hair was brushed into a long ponytail and tied with a matching purple ribbon. Ten minutes later the three of them slid into a cab and began the journey to Emma's new school.
It seemed the sight of paint and crayons was enough to wipe any fear from Emma's mind. The moment the school director began showing them the various stations where children could learn and play, Emma began excitedly pointing out her favorite things. Even the other children were less frightening than expected to the usually shy little girl, who almost immediately found a pair of playmates in the art and crafts area where they were making things from clay. In hopes of allowing Emma to become better acclimated to the environment, Finn and Rachel left her to her own devices while they filled out the final paper work and listed the various friends and family members who could retrieve Emma if they were unable to do so.
ii.
It had been two blissful months since Emma joined their family; as February began to wind down Finn wondered if it was all too good to be true. Rachel's show was rapidly approaching, and she practically glowed. It was like she'd absorbed the spotlight and it was now radiating from beneath her skin. There had been no mention of their difficulties conceiving, although occasionally once Emma was safely asleep Rachel would mutter in his ear that she wanted to continue 'Operation Make a Hudson' and drag him away from his laptop and off to bed. Emma loved Montessori school, and every day there was a new drawing or painting to put on the refrigerator door; he now drank his coffee at work out of a black mug with a hand painted football on it under his name. On afternoons when Rachel didn't have rehearsal, she'd take Emma to play with Becca while she visited Santana and cooed over Caleb.
When they received the phone call informing them that a new caseworker would be taking over Emma's file, they were relieved, hoping that it would be someone less apt to judge them for being a little out of the ordinary. Roger Carlisle seemed like a very nice man, and when Finn spoke to him the next day over the phone, he spent twenty minutes gushing over how nice it was for Emma to have such kind people looking after her and how interesting it was that her foster mother was actually an actress. Part of him wondered if the man was fishing for free tickets to Rachel's show, but so long as this man understood about their lives and cared about Emma's future and well being Finn was willing to let the rest slide.
Evaluation days were always nerve wracking, no matter how well Emma was doing. Rachel constantly worried that she was falling short of expectations, and she would rush around the apartment attempting to clean thing that were already spotless. Finn often wondered if she dreaded the day they would hear that Emma was ready for permanent placement; a large selfish part of him certainly did. It was so easy to think about Emma as their daughter—easy to forget that this was a foster situation not an adoption. But each visit was a reminder. Every visit went the same way, and today would be no different. Finn and Rachel were left alone in the kitchen, out of sight so that Roger could talk to Emma about her life with them in the living room. After about an hour Emma was sent off to play in her room and Roger asked Finn and Rachel to come in; Rachel settled on the couch next to her husband, nervously fidgeting with bracelet around her wrist.
"Emma is doing extremely well. She seems very happy and healthy, and she loves her life here. She's adjusting to life in a family setting without much difficulty." He flipped through the pages of his notes. "She was genuinely excited about her enrollment in Montessori preschool, and I think it was an excellent idea to prepare her for school in the future."
"We try to keep things as normal as possible for her; she had Christmas and Hanukkah with our families when she first moved in with us, and we try to ensure that she never feels as though she's not a part of our family." Finn paused and glanced toward Emma's room. "We were told by her previous caseworker that we needed to carefully mention the idea of her leaving for a permanent home, but she doesn't seem to understand that concept."
"Yes, of course. In fact my primary concern is that she seems to be extremely attached to the two of you; she became agitated when I casually mentioned finding a new home and family. She was concerned that perhaps you might not want her anymore and that was why I was talking about taking her away." Rachel nodded. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the importance of preparing Emma for permanent placement; your job as foster parents is to ensure that she is ready to move on to a more permanent home in the future, and you cannot allow yourselves to become attached to her."
"We understand that Mr. Carlisle, but what you must understand is that Emma has difficulty with her self esteem; it seems that her biological father's mistreatment has led to several problems. She often feels abandoned and unwanted, and we want to ensure that she knows how loved she is. As I'm sure you're aware, her father physically harmed her until she was removed from his care, and we have reason to believe that he also verbally abused her. While they have become less frequent, she still has the occasional nightmare."
"Mrs. Hudson, I do understand the situation; I've thoroughly reviewed her file, and I assure you, I want what is best for her." Rachel's indignant stare made him pause. "We simply seek to ensure that Emma has to best possible chance at a happy and healthy future, and when the time comes for her to be placed in a permanent home we want to do so with as little pain as possible for all involved."
"Of course, Mr. Carlisle, we also just want what's best for Emma, and having worked with her over these past months, we've come to understand a great deal about her." As they watched him leave ten minutes later, Finn and Rachel weren't sure that anything could be painless about this situation.
For the next few weeks, life continued normally in the Hudson home, but Rachel could see a growing uneasiness in Emma's behavior. There were mornings when she was reluctant to go to preschool, and twice she complained of an upset stomach in order to convince Finn to work from home so that she did not have to go only to discover that by noon she was feeling fine. Nothing could convince her to explain why she didn't want to go to preschool. After a third feigned stomach ache, Rachel insisted that they sit down with their foster daughter and do whatever it took to find out what the problem was.
"Em, do you want to tell us why you don't want to go to school?" Rachel seated herself on the bed next to her, on hand reach out to tuck Emma's hair behind her ear.
"Sarah and Oscar said you aren't my real mommy and daddy and that I'll have to go live with some other mommy and daddy like Trevor did." Finn winced; Emma's friend Trevor had been a foster child too, and he'd been adopted by a couple from California who couldn't have children last week. "They said his mommy and daddy didn't want him so they sent him far away."
Trevor had been one of Emma's favorite playmates at preschool, and when they first discovered that he too was a foster child they'd been conflicted. His foster parents had been in the system for years, taking in children regularly, even some who were waiting for their birth families to be able to take care of them again. Robert and Emily were very nice and full of great advice, but Emma's friendship with Trevor frightened Rachel. She knew that he might be adopted soon, and explaining it to a four year old who might be going through the same things eventually would be almost impossible.
"Emma, sweetheart, do you remember what we talked about? How Trevor's foster mommy and daddy loved him so much that they wanted him to have the best life ever?" Emma nodded, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "They wanted to keep him forever, but his new mommy and daddy loved him even more. So they let Trevor go with them so that he could play in the sunshine and be happy."
"Trevor was adopted, Little Bit. He has a new mom and dad who love him so much. He was just staying with Ms. Emily and Mr. Roger until he could go be with them." Finn swallowed thickly. "Just like you are staying with us. Understand?"
"But you could 'dopt me. I don't want to leave." It took all of Rachel's strength not to cry. "You could 'dopt me, and I'd never have to leave."
Maybe it was cowardly, but Finn couldn't make himself keep talking about giving Emma's potential adoption. He pulled her into his lap, kissed the top of her head, and let her cling to his shirt. He couldn't bear to think about her leaving them.
"We'll talk about this later, baby girl." He murmured. "You don't have to leave."
Rachel reached out to gently stroke her hair, using her free hand to swiftly sweep away her tears; it certainly wouldn't help matters if Emma were to see her crying.
iii.
Once a week on Wednesday nights, Rachel and Finn had dinner with Sam and Kurt, alternating homes each time. This time it was Finn and Rachel's turn to host, and she'd prepared lasagna—vegetarian for her and Kurt and meaty traditional for Sam and Finn; Emma had enjoyed her tasks of shredding cheese, stirring sauce, and buttering garlic bread almost as much as she enjoyed the chocolate cake with whipped cream filling they had for dessert. While the adults cleaned up, Emma amused herself by putting on an elaborate puppet show of the Ugly Duckling for baby Madison, who drifted off to sleep in her carrier just as the Ugly Duckling became a swan.
"She's doing so great!" Sam glanced out at the children as he handed a stack of dried dishes to Finn. "She's so much like you though, Rach; sitting there listening to her explain that she could sing the alphabet better than anyone else at school gave me glee club flashbacks."
"Emma certainly is extraordinary." Rachel's smile spread to her eyes, and Finn leaned in to kiss her cheek, ignoring the gagging noise from Kurt. "She's already learning to read, and we've started playing the piano here whenever she wants."
"Unfortunately all they play is 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' over and over; I was singing it at work yesterday." There was a collective chuckle. "But she's getting good at it."
"Well would you listen to the two of you! Sounding like a couple of proud parents cooing over every little thing she does." Rachel nudged Kurt. "You two are doing an amazing job. And you really should be proud. I know all of us are."
"Maddie went to sleep, and I didn't get to finish the Ugly Duckling for her!" Emma's announcement had every adult's attention.
"I'm sure she was very tired; it's past her bed time and yours too." Finn scooped her up in a bear hug.
"We'd better get home; if Maddie girl is asleep now we might make it home without a tantrum over the car seat." Sam gave Kurt a significant glance, and Kurt reached out to envelop Rachel in an embrace.
"You two be good, alright?" Finn nodded, putting Emma back on the floor to hug his brother and shake Sam's hand. "Same time next week!"
Once Sam, Kurt, and Maddie were out and on their way home; Finn and Rachel ushered Emma into the living room to collect her puppet show and then down the hall to a bath before bed. Everything seemed to go smoothly. When they'd first settled Emma into their home, nightmares were a regular occurrence in addition to Finn checking under the bed and in the closets for monsters at least three times a night. She was afraid of the dark, which was easily solved by sunflower nightlight near her bed, and when the nightmares were too bad for a simple lullaby either Finn or Rachel would sleep in the room with her. As time went on the nightmares became less frequent; Finn only had to do one round of anti-monster inspections each night and Emma slept blissfully.
Tonight seemed to be an exception to the rule; after Finn's first round of monster checks, Emma seemed restless. The Princess and the Pea did not calm her, and neither did story of the Frog Prince. She insisted that Finn check twice more before settling down for the night, and even Rachel singing her lullaby failed to soothe her. There was no real explanation for her behavior, and nothing Finn or Rachel could do made it any better. By eleven, Rachel had sung five lullabies and Finn had read four stories, with the silly voices to match the characters. But they couldn't simply sit up all night trying to convince her to sleep, not when Finn had to be at the office early for a meeting and Rachel's show had gone into dress and tech rehearsals. Emma had to be exhausted, and so they tucked her in and turned on her night light, saying good night with a kiss to her forehead in hopes that she would simply drift off to sleep.
One o'clock in the morning proved that was not to be the case. They tried to leave the bedroom door open when Emma was having bad night so that she would be able to reach them easily if she needed them, but they had hoped that those nights would become fewer. Finn was awakened by a small hand on his shoulder, attempting to shake him, and when he rolled over Emma was staring up at him with teary eyes, clutching Beary to her chest with trembling arms.
"What's the matter, Em?" He tried desperately to keep the edge from his voice.
"Bad dream," the murmured words were barely audible, and he reached to nudge his wife awake.
"Finn Hudson it's one in the morning and I have rehearsal at seven, now is not a good time—oh, Emma sweetie, what's wrong?" Her tone shifted immediately, and Emma moved closer.
"She had another bad dream." He whispered. "They've come back again, and I'm not sure why."
"Can I sleep with you?" Sleepy eyes full of tears pleaded with them, and Finn reluctantly moved so that there was an Emma-sized space between him and his wife. "I promise not to wiggle too much."
"Come on sweetheart, snuggle in between us; it'll be ok." Rachel patted the space Finn had created.
Beary in tow, Emma crawled over Finn and under the blankets, wiggling until she was pressed into Rachel's side. Rachel offered him a small smile, moving her arm so that it wasn't pinned beneath Emma, and she pulled the blankets up over them. Finn pulled in a breath, adjusting his position again to avoid potentially rolling over and crushing her.
"G'night mommy," Rachel froze, her eyes meeting Finn's across the top of Emma's head; there was no way that she had heard correctly—she hadn't heard Emma say those words. "G'night daddy."
Time seemed to stop. Finn's breath caught in his throat, and tears welled in his eyes. Rachel swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. It was like someone had pressed pause on the universe, and everything came to a complete halt.
"Sweet dreams, little one." The words were soft and in unison, and Rachel's fingers twined with his, their hands resting over the blankets that covered the now sleeping little girl.
iv.
Rachel's opening night was in three days, and the apartment had become Funny Girl central. Not only that, but Rachel had gone into what she called show mode, which essentially meant that she didn't speak at all unless absolutely necessary and avoided any risk of illness or vocal strain. All of this meant that Finn had to explain several times why his wife wouldn't talk to anyone, even Emma. He was constantly reminding her that Rachel wasn't mad at her, just making sure that she could sing pretty on her big night. So when he heard singing in the apartment, a garbled version of "Don't Rain on My Parade" Finn knew it couldn't be Rachel. He followed the sounds to the back bedroom where he found Emma sitting in front of Rachel's vanity, makeup scattered across it.
"Em, whatcha doing?" The look on the four year old girl's face was priceless.
"I wanted to be pretty." The shy response came from lips stained bright red with Rachel's favorite red lipstick. "I wanted to be pretty like Miss Rachel. Am I pretty?"
"Very pretty, sweetheart, but maybe we should get you cleaned up before dinner. And maybe next time you should ask Miss Rachel before messing with her stuff." As he surveyed the little girl's face, he pulled in a breath; Rachel would absolutely die if she saw this mess. "Come with me, ok?"
He led her to the bathroom and quickly lifted her onto the counter; it was clear that Emma had been watching Rachel put on her makeup. There were black lines across her eyelids and large pink blush smears on her cheeks. She looked like some sort of cartoon character; he chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead before racing over to the dresser in the next room to pick up his camera. When he returned to the bathroom Emma was swinging her feet, hands on her knees, still singing the wrong words to 'Don't Rain on My Parade' at the top of her voice.
"Smile Emma-bean!" Her smile lit up the room, and he snapped four pictures of her broad smile and bright laughing face covered in makeup before reaching for a washcloth on the counter and running a sink full of warm water. "Now, let's get this stuff off before Miss Rachel gets home from her rehearsal, ok?"
With a gentle touch, he began wiping away all the makeup, and he was so wrapped up in what he was doing, humming 'You Are My Sunshine' to her, that he failed to notice his wife standing in the doorway, a dry erase board in one hand and a marker in the other. It wasn't until she knocked hard on the door and Emma jumped that Finn looked up to see that Rachel was holding up her board with the words what's going on written in bright red. There were no explanations that did not involve confessing that he'd been too distracted by the basketball game to notice that Emma was off finding ways to entertain herself. He stammered something about accidents, but Rachel was too busy giggling at his attempts to remove waterproof liquid eyeliner and mascara without scrubbing to be angry.
"Rach, a little help?" His eyes met hers, filled with mild desperation, and Rachel couldn't prevent a laugh from bubbling out; she nodded and gently took the cloth from his hand.
Ten minutes, four cotton balls, two washcloths, and a towel later they were curled up together under a blanket on the couch watching Funny Girl. Emma watched with rapt attention, trying to sing along with every song, and Finn kept imagining Rachel singing every song Barbra sang. In two days she was going to be on stage, finally getting her moment to shine in a role she was meant to play; when he glanced in her direction Rachel was mouthing the words to each song, and he could almost see the scenes playing in her mind with her as Fanny Brice. She'd been talking about this show launching her career for weeks, and now the moment had arrived.
Everything seemed so perfect; with her career finally on track, she was sure that the rest of her life would fall into place. Finn had a permanent byline; he was so successful, and they were ready. It was finally their turn. At least that's what she thought. Rachel wrapped her arms around Emma, taken by how easily she could pretend that Emma was her daughter—that she would not be leaving them eventually. At this moment everything seemed perfect, and she was more than willing to stay here forever.
Her fathers had come up from Ohio, and so had his mom and Burt, who insisted that missing opening night would be a crime; almost the entire Glee club—the originals—were going to be there. Even Mercedes had flown in from Los Angeles to be there to watch her favorite miniature diva take the stage. Everyone was on orders to meet at the theater, and both sets of parents were arriving just in time to change for the show, which left Finn home alone to get Emma ready. He was pretty sure this was Rachel's way of testing him; when she left Emma was sitting in her room playing with her dolls, already fresh from a bubble bath with sponge rollers in her hair, but Finn discovered rather quickly that Rachel had not picked out an outfit.
"Em, we need to get ready." Emma looked up from the little plastic family she had preparing for the plastic mommy's show. "Do you want to pick out a dress for tonight?"
"Which ones can I?" Finn led her to her wardrobe and pointed to a section of dresses hanging neatly in a row; Rachel had been very specific when she let him know which were fancy enough to wear on special occasions. "Can I wear the blue one with the white bow? We can match!"
She pointed up at the navy and silver striped tie still hanging untied around his neck, and he smiled down at her. Dropping a kiss on the top of her head he carefully selected the dress from the wardrobe and removed it from its white plastic hanger. Emma eagerly took it from his hands and waited patiently for him to step out of the room so that she could put it on before calling him back in to zip it and tie the bow. He sat on his knees behind her, surprising himself as he deftly secured the wide white sash with a neat bow, and when she turned he quickly buckled her patent leather shoes, glad Rachel had gotten her to put her tights on underneath the pajama pants she'd been wearing earlier.
"Blue or white?" He stood slowly, unfolding his long body back to full height and reaching for the box of ribbon Rachel used for Emma's hair and the brush; this was going to be the real challenge.
"Blue please!" Brush in hand and hair tie around his wrist, he urged her to sit on the bed so that he didn't have to return to the floor and sat down behind her.
"I'm not too good at this, Em. You tell me if I'm pulling, ok?" She responded with an enthusiastic nod.
He'd watched his wife quickly brush and style Emma's hair more times than he could count, but his hands automatically began to shake when he began to remove the rollers. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her because he was too clumsy to handle what Rachel made look so simple. The process of unrolling her curls was slow, and by the time he'd gently removed them all Emma was starting to get antsy; he'd had to remind her three times to be very still or else he might accidentally tangle her hair. She only winced twice when the brush caught a snag, and he carefully pulled the top half of her dark curls into a ponytail and neatly tied her blue ribbon into a bow.
"Beautiful just like—" He had to stop himself from calling Rachel Emma's Mommy, and instead he leaned in to kiss her cheek as she hopped from the bed; with a bright grin, she did a quick turn for effect, skirt swirling around her. "Just like Miss Rachel."
"Really?" His answer was a broad smile. "Don't forget to tie."
Her reminder caught him off guard, failing to register that he hadn't tied his own tie until she walked up and tugged it. Murmuring a thank you, he fumbled with it for a moment before finally securing the knot and then quickly slid from the bed and reached for her hand. They were already running late, and they had one stop before they could get to the theater.
An hour and a half later they were sitting among their friends and family, two bouquets of flowers tucked beneath their seats and a small bag of apple slices in Emma's lap to keep her hunger at bay until dinner after the show. Finn couldn't take his eyes off Rachel from the moment she stepped into the light, and the moment her voice rang out in the theater he felt a sudden thrill; watching her perform was like something out of dream, full of magic. Rachel was completely focused and immersed in the role, and it was like watching her come alive. On stage Rachel was a force to be reckoned with, and it was impossible to look away. Emma's small hand reached for his, and he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, mouthing the words as Rachel sang them.
The theater almost exploded with applause during the curtain call, and Finn had to prevent Emma from climbing up to stand on her seat in order to be more visible during the standing ovation. Flowers in hand, the group filed out of the theater, Finn and Emma leading the way hand in hand; they were going to meet Rachel at the stage door before heading off to dinner. Rachel had made a point of hanging back so that she would be one of the last to leave in hopes that the area would be less crowded, but they still struggled to make their way through the tightly packed audience. The moment Emma spotted Rachel she broke away and raced into her arms, handing her a bouquet of daisies, and Rachel lifted her into a warm embrace.
"These are for you! I picked them out all by myself."
"Rachie! Is this little doll yours?" The voice of Rachel's cast mate James echoed from behind them, and he reached out to tap Emma on the nose; he played Eddie Ryan, and they'd met several times when Finn picked Rachel up from rehearsals. "Looks like Finny Boy didn't have too much trouble getting her ready after all."
"Emma, say hi to Jimmy." Finn chuckled, shaking James' hand.
"She's the absolute cutest. Rachel's been flashing her picture around the dressing room like crazy, and we've all been dying to meet her."
Everyone who met her reacted the same way; cast members embraced her, offering her candy and telling her that she was adorable. Rachel chatted with her former Glee teammates, arms full of the daisies from Emma and the large rose bouquet from Finn. They too fawned over Emma. No one behaved as if Emma was anything less than Finn and Rachel's daughter; she laughed and smiled, chattering away about how much she liked school and singing with Rachel and learning to play the piano. Mercedes even jokingly referred to her as Mini Diva 2.0. Rachel's fathers argued over who would carry Emma to the car since it was such a long walk, but before either could win, Finn had already scooped her up and set her on his shoulders, Rachel holding his arm as they headed off to dinner. They were a family; no one could argue that they weren't. And for tonight no one considered the possibility that they might have to give this up eventually.
v.
If was mid April, and he number of times Emma had called Rachel Mommy or Finn Daddy had increased so much that they no longer treated it as some sort of anomaly. They simply smiled and kissed her cheek and hugged her tightly. The apartment was now littered with pictures of Emma and art projects she'd made in school. Her room was decorated with teddy bears and purple; a large dollhouse sat in one corner and a table in the other, set with a tea set decorated with purple flowers. Everything about their home now indicated that a family with a small daughter lived there. They tried to remind themselves that no matter how normal things seemed Emma might be adopted at any time, but it was growing more difficult. The case worker had explained that when Emma's emotional stability improved enough they would begin looking at her options for permanent placement, and every day seemed to be a step in that direction.
On top of that, Finn and Rachel had still been unable to conceive a child of their own, and she was beginning to believe that a biological child was almost out of the question. Her disappointment was evident, even if they had decided to just let nature take its course. Finn could see her growing more attached to Emma with each passing day; the truth of the matter was that so was he. She loved Emma, and so did he. They were on dangerous ground, and he dreaded the heartbreak that would come when they got the inevitable phone call.
"She seems really happy." Rachel was sitting on their bed, flipping through the photo album they'd been putting together. "Emma's in her room, having a tea party with Grape and Hippo."
"Rach,' he chewed his bottom lip, watching her; he hated to be the one to remind her that this wasn't permanent.
"This photo book was a terrific idea, Finn." She was pointing to a photo of Emma among the cast of Funny Girl; she'd been dressed exactly like Rachel as Fanny Brice, complete with leopard print hat.
"Yeah she'll be able to look back and remember us." Rachel's response died on her lips. "I even put in the pictures from her birthday party at the center—you know the one's Santana took? She'll have great memories when she leaves for her new home."
"Finn, I—" Her words were cut off by a small shuddering sigh.
"You knew this wouldn't be forever, sweetheart. She's getting stronger and braver every day. Last week—"
"I don't think I can do this. I don't think I can let her go." The first tear was enough for him to drop everything and crawl onto the bed beside her; immediately she fell into his embrace, her next words buried in his chest. "I love her; she's my baby. It doesn't matter that we didn't—Finn, I can't lose her now."
Emma's caseworker had been so pleased with her progress on his last visit that he'd said she might be ready to move on to a permanent home. He held her close, fingers stroking through her hair as his shirt muffled her tears; things were only going to be worse when the case worker called, and he wasn't sure that he could handle it. All this time he'd been a rock, holding it together because Rachel needed him to be strong, but the thought of letting Emma going was to break him too. They'd done what everyone had warned them not to; they'd gotten attached. The tears started to sting his eyes, and he swallowed hard, desperately trying not to fall apart. Suddenly the phone rang, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Hudson residence, Finn speaking," Rachel looked up from her position against his chest, her eyes still rimmed in red. "I understand."
"Finn," she stopped before she said anything else, concern growing by the moment.
"How soon—I mean we'd like a chance to break it to her gently." Finn's voice shook. "The last time this kind of thing arose Emma got very upset. We'd like to spare her as much heartache as possible."
"Oh," Rachel pressed her face into his chest.
"Thank you," he pulled in a ragged breath. "We'll be prepared for your call."
"Please no," she whimpered against his chest as he hung up the phone.
"Rach, we have to." Rachel's body shook in his arms, and he held her tighter. "I know, baby. I love her too."