Mad World

by Mytay

A post-Never Been Kissed fic. Kurt has been incredibly sad, hurt and tired lately. Burt finds out why . . . and then gets angry. Very angry. In the meantime, a few people are waking up to reality and Kurt is not as alone as he may think he is.

9. Sit and Listen

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Sit and Listen

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"Thanks," Kurt said in a smooth, low tone. He hardly ever spoke much louder than that these days, and Finn didn't like it. It was weird, not at all what he was used to, and he didn't want to get used to this.

He smiled at him anyways. "No problem." He handed Kurt the mug of hot tea, and then sat back down on the couch and played the movie. They had been alternating between movies that Kurt enjoyed and movies that Finn liked, which had been working out pretty well. Right now they were watching Chicago and Finn was actually having fun with it. During some of the boring parts (of which there were surprisingly few) he easily pictured Rachel in Catherine Zeta-Jones role (and outfits). His girlfriend could totally rock that.

He pointed out as much to Kurt, who rolled his eyes and said, "Rachel playing a conniving, manipulative diva with a raging ego? What a leap."

Finn tossed a pillow at him. "Hey, that's my girl you're talkin' about!"

Kurt reached a hand out from the pile of blankets he seemed to be always buried underneath, catching the pillow one handed, and throwing it back. "Tell me what part of that sentence wasn't accurate, and I'll apologize." He almost had a smirk on his face, and even though he was being mean about Rachel, it was all so close to normal Finn couldn't help but be a little happy about it.

But he really should defend his girlfriend now. Finn opened his mouth and then paused. "Well, she might kinda be all those things – but she's not like, completely self-centred, and she's an awesome friend. She totally has my back – and yours, too, Kurt."

Kurt's almost-smirk faded into a small smile. "Yeah, I know."

Finn jerked in his seat, suddenly remembering his latest message from the small diva. "Rachel said she's coming by tomorrow. She wanted to talk with you alone. And she's says she's sorry, again. For, you know, not hanging around as much as we've all been."

Kurt nodded. "That's cool, I guess. I wonder why no one else has barged in our solitude yet."

Finn smiled sheepishly. "Well, that was me, actually. I figured after what happened yesterday, you wouldn't want people just . . . hovering around. So, uh, I told everyone to back off for a day or two. They mentioned maybe popping in on Sunday. But, uh, if I –"

"No, no." There was a warmth and gratitude in Kurt's expression that Finn hadn't seen directed at him since before a certain encounter in Kurt's basement, months ago. "Thanks, Finn – that's perfect."

Finn relaxed back into the couch cushions, beneath a thin blanket of his own (that wasn't long enough, but nothing ever was), and went back to watching the movie.

After the craziness that was last night, he and his mom had gone home really late and come over really early today (like they had been doing pretty much every day). Burt had been up, looking like he hadn't slept at all, and Finn couldn't blame him. He didn't know what had happened after they had left the basement, but he guessed Kurt had probably talked to his father more about some of the stuff Finn had overheard (unintentionally) from his conversation with the cops a few days back. That was the stuff of nightmares for anyone – he couldn't even imagine what was going through Burt's head while hearing those things about his son.

Earlier this morning, Finn had given his mom and Burt some alone time while he went to check on Kurt in the basement. He hadn't been surprised at all to see Mercedes slowly making her way out of Kurt's bed, trying not to wake him. She'd given Finn a weak smile, and he smiled back before heading upstairs again, letting her get ready for school in private. It was strange, but at the same time sort of not, him being suspended; it felt necessary. He didn't think he could handle being back in that school yet, not after the rage he'd felt just looking at Karofsky's face. That bastard was suspended too, but there were his buddies and a few of the douchebags from the football team still present at the school, and Finn wasn't too sure he'd be able to keep from punching someone, anyone out.

Plus, it meant he got to watch over Kurt.

While Finn's mom and Burt were hanging out with Kurt in the basement, Mercedes gave Finn something like her blessing to watch over Kurt, and that was fine with Finn. It was new, this strong, irresistible urge to take care of Kurt – but Finn wasn't going to fight it. He wanted to keep as much badness away from the other boy as he could.

That was why, when his mother took him aside after Burt left to drop Mercedes off at school, he had no trouble accepting her news.

Finn didn't know why it surprised him, but it did, and he couldn't help widening his eyes. "We're moving back in?"

His mom bit her lip. "I know it feels probably about as sudden as the last time. And if you have strong objections to it, we won't do it, Finn, but will you hear me out?"

Finn nodded – he'd listen, but he already knew his answer.

"After Burt's heart attack, I asked him if he would consider letting me stay with him – I don't need to tell you how worried I was. And not just for him. For Kurt to be taking most of the responsibility for his father's care – I didn't want that for him. But Burt said that he didn't want me to move in to play nurse, and he wanted to wait for a little while longer to have this discussion. Now . . . he talked it over with Kurt first, and he just asked me if we could come back. The plan is to buy a house together, real soon, but for now we'll all be here. If you feel uncomfortable about staying with Kurt, Burt says he's been meaning to buy a fold-out couch anyways, and he'll do it this weekend –"

"Mom, it's fine. I'm totally cool with it."

And he was, he wasn't lying – not even to himself. The idea of being closer to Kurt was a relief (he shot a glance towards the boy on the couch, reassuring himself that Kurt was still there and still okay). He wouldn't even mind rooming with Kurt, but he felt like maybe he should hold off on that for a bit, and let the other boy have his room to himself.

The phone ringing made them both jump, and Finn watched as Kurt had to actually calm himself down by closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.

Finn grabbed the cordless that had basically taken up residence in the living room. "Hello?"

"Hey, buddy, just calling to see how you two were doing."

Finn shot Kurt a small smile. "We're pretty cool, Burt – working on movie number four."

"Wow, you're really ploughing through them, aren't ya? Is Kurt still awake?"

"Yeah, you want to talk to him again?"

"Nah, just let him stay nice and cosy under his blankets. I'll see you guys when I get back – in a couple of hours, after we buy that new couch."

Finn hung up. That had been Burt's second call of the day. His mom had called once, around lunchtime, to make sure Finn wasn't doing anything fancy or crazy in the kitchen that would involve the fire department being called in (again). But no, Finn had stuck to his favourite cooking tool – the microwave. That and leftovers equalled a recipe for success.

By the end of Chicago, Kurt was dozing, and Finn was fielding texts from all the gleeks. There was one from Ida, asking if he wanted her to drop off the contents of Kurt's locker. Finn blinked for a second, then he remembered that the original plan for that day involved everyone coming over later (after detention), and Mercedes had mentioned she was going deal with Kurt's locker. She said Ida would be over first since the shy girl had volunteered to deliver Kurt's things.

However, he had promised Kurt a friends-free day, and even though Ida was pretty quiet and stuff, he wouldn't feel right making an exception. He texted her and asked if she wouldn't mind coming tomorrow. He received a response almost instantly. Not a problem: tell Kurt whenever he's ready is all right with me :) He wondered if Mercedes had told Ida about the epic breakdown.

Kurt muttered something in his sleep and Finn shot him a quick look. He knew from their short time as roomies that Kurt wasn't much of a sleep-talker. The other boy's face contorted for minute, as if he was in pain; Finn was untangling himself from his blanket and standing over Kurt before he knew it. But he had no idea what to do as Kurt started whimpering. He reached out a hand in fits and stops, before kind of patting Kurt on the head, as gently as possible. The noises decreased slightly, which encouraged him, so he whispered, "It's cool, Kurt – you're home. You're safe. You're safe."

Kurt quieted, curling in on himself and pulling his own blankets up to his chin. He looked unbearably young, but the dark rings under his eyes, the frown lines (neither of which Finn was ever going to mention out loud), made him look older too. It was messing with Finn's head, and he wished suddenly that his mom, or Burt, were home, or even Mercedes – she was awesome, and she was Kurt's best friend. She always knew what to say and how to talk him down.

His phone buzzed as it received another text, this one from Puck: Dude, I need to talk with you – it's about Karofsky. Just seeing that name had red edging in on Finn's vision. He turned off the TV and DVD player, heading towards his mom and Burt's room, just down the hall, so he could hear it when Kurt got up. He speed-dialled Puck's number, and the first ring was cut off almost immediately. "Hey man, how's my boy Kurt doin'?"

It had taken Finn a while to get used to Puck referring to Kurt as 'his boy', considering that the last time he said more than two words to Kurt, it was to send him to spy on the Dalton Academy 'Garglers'. Now it seemed, at least to Finn, that Puck was feeling either protective or guilty, or maybe even both.

Artie and Mike had told Finn about Puck; that he was prowling the hallways of McKinley, looking for any jock wielding a slushie or looming over any geek of any kind – even Jewfro. It had been a long time since Puck had bullied anyone (except for Jewfro, but the annoying jerk usually had it coming), and even longer since he'd done anything to Kurt. The way Finn saw it, Puck was trying to make up for everything now, to be as different from the jocks that harassed Kurt as he could possibly be. Finn was cool with that. In fact, it made him think that he and Puck could become close friends again – maybe.

"Yo, Finn, don't space out on me – how's Kurt?"

Finn felt his lips quirk into a smile. "He's okay. He's sleeping right now. Whatever Burt and Mercedes did last night . . . it helped. He's a lot calmer."

"Cool. Now, listen up. I was listening in on a few of the punks that didn't get expelled, and they were saying that Karofsky was totally in on it. They're sayin' it was his idea."

Finn blinked, staring blankly at the wall. "But Kurt . . . and the police haven't . . . everyone says it was all Azimio. I think it's bull, Puck. Everyone pretends to know stuff when something this big happens."

"Yeah, well, you tell me – who's really been gunning for Kurt lately, huh? It wasn't Azimio. Maybe it was all Karofsky's plan, and Azimio just went ahead and did it for him?"

Finn considered that for a moment. It was possible. But then, why wasn't Kurt saying anything? Maybe he didn't know? Ida had said that Karofsky had been there, that he'd stopped Azimio – but how had he known to come in the first place? Since no one was arresting him, Finn had been assuming that the asshole really hadn't had anything to do with this, but, then again, Karofsky was just such a bastard.

"Look, just don't get into too much trouble, okay? Lay low, and we'll figure things out. The most important thing right now is to get Kurt better, and keep him safe."

"I get what you're saying. You take care of things over there, I'll keep my eyes and ears open."

Finn hung up, staring at his phone for a minute. He realized that all of those questions he had, that had been bothering him since he calmed own enough to think straight after the riot at school, could be answered by the boy passed out on the couch. The thing was that he really didn't know how to ask, and he really, really didn't want to either. The snippets he'd heard when Kurt had been giving his statement, they still made his skin crawl, prickling with goosebumps. Sometimes, when he couldn't help but try and imagine what it was like for Kurt to go through all of that, his stomach would start twisting, and his fists would be clenching.

It sounded stupid, even to him, but he needed to know if all this raw, burning rage was being directed at the right people. Azimio for sure was the right target, but as much as he hated Azimio and knew he was to blame for this, he couldn't let go of Karofsky. If the bastard were standing in front of him right at that moment, he'd take him apart, no question. His fingers flexed as he thought about it – itching for vengeance on his almost-stepbrother's behalf, and maybe for Ida since she saved Kurt and had been hurt too.

Wait. He didn't have to ask Kurt, not right away. He could ask Ida first. His phone was dialling and up to his ear within the same second he had that thought, Ida's soft voice answering with a raspy, "Hello?"

Suddenly, Finn had no clue what to say. He didn't know this girl, not really, and maybe this was too much, too intense to ask about over the phone?

"Hey, uh, if it's all right, would you mind bring Kurt's stuff over today? I know I said not to, but, I'm pretty sure there's some scarves or something that he's missing and –"

Ida chuckled. "Okay, hang on." Her voice took on a distant quality as she likely held the phone away from her ear. "Mom? Would you mind if we swung by Kurt's after all?"

Finn could hear her mom say, 'Sure' or something like it, and then Ida was back. "Okay, we'll be there in ten minutes."

Finn thanked her and pushed the 'end call' button, wandering back out into the living room. Kurt was fast asleep, and he didn't want to wake him, but he also didn't want him waking up alone, maybe panicking. He made sure the cordless was within reach (another weird adjustment was seeing Kurt without his phone; Finn didn't know where he'd put it, and he was pretty sure Kurt hadn't turned it on for days – that's why Finn had suddenly become the secretary). Even though it felt a little stupid, he left a note saying he was just on the porch, talking with Ida, and Kurt could totally stay inside and sleep if he wanted to.

After adjusting the blankets and refilling Kurt's glass of water, Finn went to grab his coat and shoes. He shoved his cell phone into his pocket and tiptoed out of the house, settling himself comfortably on the front porch. He ended up shedding the coat though – it was pretty warm today, warmer than a fall day should be.

When Ida pulled up, Finn bounced down the stairs, ready to help her with her crutches.

"Hey – when are you getting rid of these?" he asked as he fished them out of the backseat for her.

"Another couple of days and we're through," she said with relief, taking them from him. "Thank you."

The car door slammed on the driver's side, and Finn glanced over the roof to smile at Ida's mother. "Hi Mrs. Callaghan." For the few minutes Finn had talked to her at the hospital last week, she'd seemed super nice, and the way she had taken Burt's hand and promised to help him ream the school board out for what happened? That was awesome.

"Hello, Finn," she said with an answering smile.

"Sorry for, uh, this," Finn spoke as he helped Ida up the steps. "I guess I just figured it's better to um, have his stuff. In case he wants it. And, he's sleeping right now, so if it's cool –"

"Finn, it's fine." Mrs. Callaghan grabbed a bag, which clearly had Kurt's things. "We'll sit out here – it's an Indian summer day, and I'd like to enjoy it while it lasts."

Ida was sitting comfortably on the porch chair while Finn sat next to her and her mom leaned against the porch rail. He abruptly knew how awkward this conversation would be in front of Ida's mom. Maybe I should just forget it – it had been such a stupid, impulsive decision to call her in the first place.

"How're you doing, Finn?" Ida's mom asked.

Finn replied without thinking, "Kurt's a bit better but – oh, sorry. I'm . . . okay."

Ida let loose another quiet chuckle, and Mrs. Callaghan shook her head. "Ida's been filling my ears with Kurt all week and it's good to know that he's doing well. I'm just worried about the rest of you, too."

Finn looked into her kind eyes – he knew very little about Ida, and even less about her mom, but they were starting to turn up more and more often. Her mom had been exchanging many phone calls with Burt lately, which had him thinking she might be popping by as whatever they were doing to the school board kept going.

Finn relaxed, and tried to come up with the right words – he just had to know. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, keeping quiet before sucking it up and just saying whatever came into his head.

"Look, if you don't want to answer me on this, it's fine, I don't want to ask Kurt, 'cause, uh, well, it's hard to ask him anything – but I get that this is totally hard on you too."

Ida blinked but said nothing, and her mom braced her hands on the rail behind her, crossing her legs at the ankle. "Finn, slow down. What is it you're getting at here?"

He took in a deep breath. "It's about Karofsky." Ida's face fell and Finn instantly felt guilty. "Sorry, sorry –"

"No, no, go ahead. I'd rather you ask me than Kurt, I guess."

"Ida –"

"It's fine, mom."

Feeling positively awful now, Finn forged on ahead. "You, uh, you said that Karofsky was there, but I wanted to know if he –"

"He didn't hurt Kurt, or me, I swear. I would've said something. Why do you think he wasn't arrested?"

Finn sighed. "Yeah, I figured. But Karofsky, you haven't really seen –"

"I've been here long enough to have seen plenty," Ida interrupted, looking surprised at her own words. "Sorry, I didn't mean to . . . I watched him in the hallways. Him and Azimio. And no one ever . . ." She didn't finish, staring down at her lap. Finn had to look away.

"Where were you? Why couldn't you see how bad it was hurting?"

He didn't think he would ever forget a word of what Kurt said last night.

A hand ghosted lightning quick over his arm. "Mercedes told me that if it would have been anyone, it would've been Karofsky. But Finn, he stopped Azimio, he . . ." She trailed off, glancing at her mother. "It was weird – there was something strange about it. He and Kurt . . . I think you need to ask him at some point," she ended miserably. "Guess I'm not much help after all."

Finn was quick to grab her hand. "Never say that, okay? What you did? Man, that was just beyond awesome."

Ida tried to smile, but she didn't quite manage it. Finn squeezed her fingers and then let go, attempting to get his own thoughts in order. He slumped as he considered the fact that maybe Karofsky really hadn't had anything to do with it. "I still want to kill the bastard more than anything. I don't get why though – shouldn't I want Azimio dead?"

"Maybe it's because you know Azimio is going to get his just desserts?" Mrs. Callaghan offered, crossing her arms. "Personally, I wouldn't mind accidentally backing over the jackass with my car for what he did to my girl. But he's been caught, and I've been calling the D.A. – Burt and I both have been, actually – they're going to seek permission to try him as an adult, considering the fact that it was so clearly a hate crime against Kurt, and a serious assault on top of that. When it comes to this Karofsky kid –"

"He was just as bad, if not worse. And he's Azimio's best friend, how could he not –" Finn cut himself off with a frustrated noise. "It's not fair. Kurt, he's not coming back to school, and that bastard, once his suspension is up, is."

"You know that Kurt could tell you better than Ida what this boy had to do with all this," Mrs. Callaghan pointed out gently.

Finn looked up at the woman, rubbing his damp palms against his sweatpants-clad thighs. "Kurt, he's . . . um . . ."

"Ida told me about last night – second hand news from Mercedes." She moved to sit down in a chair directly across from Finn and Ida. Leaning in close to them she caught Finn's eyes and held his gaze. "But I don't think you're going to break him by asking. A large part of Kurt's breakdown might've been due to the fact that you're all talking around the issues, or talking about him when he's not there to clarify anything for you. Maybe the topics you're afraid to broach are what he needs to be discussing. Don't be afraid. You're his friend – if he tells you to stop, or that he can't talk, you listen to him. But if he doesn't . . . trust your instincts."

Ida cleared her throat. "Listen Finn, I saw some of what Azimio was doing and," her voice cracked there, but she kept going, "if I hadn't been talking about with my mom this past while . . . Mercedes has been e-mailing me, and that's helped a lot too. I know that Kurt's different, that he's stubborn and strong in ways that I'm not, and he may not need you all breathing down his neck. But I don't think that means he wants you guys to leave him alone entirely. After all, isn't that what he's been doing all this time – going it alone?"

"You're all suddenly here every day, talking with me like you've known me all your life, like you really care, but why couldn't you have cared earlier! Why couldn't you have stopped this before Azimio did this to me!"

Finn winced. "Yeah . . . I really wish I knew exactly what I was doing, you know?"

Ida's mom chuckled. "Oh Finn, trust me when I tell you that you'll be thinking that for all of your life, in any given situation."

Finn felt a lot of his discomfort and concern ease in the wake of that light laughter. He and Ida grinned at each other and it was a great moment for Kurt to walk out onto the porch, wrapped in his dark blue robe, looking a little lost, but with a smile in reply to all of their own.

"Hey Kurt." Ida gave a little wave. "You look positively smashing, I have to say."

Kurt spared a look for his clothes, tugging his robe closer to his body. "Yes, definitely a trend-setter in this outfit – the cover of 'Slovenly Monthly' is mine."

Finn had to smile even wider at that, and Ida giggled, glancing at her mother with a tilt of the head towards Kurt. Mrs. Callaghan stretched out a hand. "We didn't get a chance to meet at the hospital, Kurt. I'm Ida's mom, Mona Callaghan."

"I realize. You have the same lovely complexion." Kurt shook her hand, his own skin stark against her more peach-like tone. "Ida told me she had no concept of moisturizing or facial cleanses – and look, not a single blemish, sun spot, anything. I see now it's a genetic trait. I'm insanely jealous."

Mrs. Callaghan burst out laughing, and she was even blushing a little. "Oh, Kurt, your father and Ida both told me about you, but let me tell you – the stories don't live up to the reality."

Kurt shrugged. "Tales of my general 'divatude' are greatly . . . understated."

Finn snorted at this, and Ida looked like she holding back another round of giggles. He shot her a side-glance; Finn hadn't quite figured out Ida yet.

His first impression had been of someone small and shy, and he'd thought she had a crush on Kurt. After getting to her know for a couple of days, she seemed more than okay with Kurt's sexuality, so the only thing he could think of now was that she might have a case of hero worship. Kurt was cool and all, but with all the slushies that had been thrown in his face over the years, and the dumpsters tosses (every single one of those memories made him feel sick to his stomach), he didn't think anyone else would ever see Kurt as cool because of all that. But Ida did. And did it make him a jerk if he didn't quite see how she saw Kurt?

Finn saw Kurt as awesome and different – but now (and he hated himself for it) the label 'victim' was all too easy to slap on over all that. He was trying hard to not see it that way, but Kurt was standing before him in a robe, all quiet and a pale imitation of his old self.

"We brought everything from your locker," Ida was explaining. "It's all here. I was kind of tempted to steal that dark purple sweater, the one with the sequins on the –"

"It's yours, if you truly want it," Kurt interrupted, smiling that little half-smile that Finn hated – it was like Kurt had given up, or something and it just didn't suit him at all. "With your skin and hair? It'll look far better on you than me."

"Kurt . . ." Ida's jaw dropped for a moment. It seemed to take her some time to find her voice after that. "Kurt, I was just kidding, you don't have to –"

"Listen, girl-who-saved-my-life – I think your title speaks for itself, doesn't it?" And the smile grew there. "Ida, a lot of that stuff is last season, or back-up in case of slushie or dumpster. I won't need it anymore. Honestly, wear it proudly. Without me at McKinley, there will likely be a dramatic decrease in style and flair. Carry on my tradition."

It was funny . . . and it wasn't. Finn sighed, feeling his lips tug downwards; Ida didn't even try for a smile and her mother reached out to put a hand on Kurt's shoulder. He watched as Kurt frowned, glancing at all their faces, and Finn could see Kurt not quite understanding their reactions. He suddenly found himself not wanting his suspension to end – because going back to McKinley, without Kurt, with everything that had happened, was going to suck. Kurt seemed to shake off his confusion after a few seconds. "Right. I'm going to head back inside. Mrs. Callaghan, Ida, do either of you want something to drink?"

"No, Kurt, sweetheart, you go on in and rest. We're the ones interrupting you here," Mrs. Callaghan was quick to respond.

Ida nodded. "Yeah, Kurt and um, thank you for the sweater."

Kurt was now looking distinctly embarrassed, and it was Finn's turn not to understand why. He puzzled over it as Kurt waved good-bye to them, waiting for the car to pull out before turning and disappearing back into the house without even looking once towards Finn. He blinked and followed after a lengthy pause.

Kurt sat on the couch, wrapped in blankets again. He shot Finn a side look before laying down once more, facing the back of the couch and shutting his eyes.

Finn stood at a distance, shuffling his weight between his feet, watching as Kurt's breathing slowed into a deep and regular rhythm again.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced down to see a text from Tina asking if they were all still welcome on Sunday. Finn sent back a message saying he was pretty sure it was cool, but he'd ask Burt and Kurt later tonight and let them know. Two seconds after that it was a text from Blaine: Hey, Mercedes gave me your number, I hope that's okay. Just wanted to check in and find out how Kurt was doing. Let him know that I'm thinking of him. Would it be all right if I came by tomorrow or Sunday?

Finn smiled. He liked Blaine. It was kind of interesting to watch Blaine interact with his almost-brother – the preppy boy acted all cool and friendly sometimes, warm and compassionate more often, all with a careful sort of a distance, but Finn was pretty familiar with looks of longing by now. Finn's near-constant observing of all things related to Kurt, coupled with his own long days of pining for Rachel, made it pretty easy to guess that Blaine was entering crush-zone. It was awesome, because Kurt totally deserved to have someone as nice and cool as Blaine liking him, even if Kurt didn't like Blaine back (well, he liked him, obviously, but if he like-liked him, Finn couldn't tell).

He texted back, Sunday. I gotta ask Burt, but everyone might be coming over, so you should too. Let you know soon.

After that, he went into the kitchen, dialling for pizza, using the money Burt had left behind by the phone. Burt had also written down the only combination of cheeses and toppings that Kurt would eat, which Finn read off to the operator on the other end, followed by a second pizza – Meat Lovers. He headed back into the living room, settling into his previous position, and flicking the TV back on, quick with the mute button so Kurt wouldn't be disturbed.

He channel-surfed for a time, stopping on a few sports channels, taking in the scores for everything from baseball to squash (which utterly confused him, because: vegetable? A sport named after a vegetable? What was up with that?). He landed on the news, reading the captions provided, only vaguely interested in Mrs. Sullivan's twentieth grandchild having been born, but then it switched over to the headline story – and that was McKinley in the background.

Finn sat up, staring hard, tempted to unmute it, but he definitely did not want Kurt to wake up to this. He read the closed captioning, his stomach swooping lowly.

While Principal Figgins has continued to be mum on the subject of the alleged assault that took place only a week ago, changes to school policy are already being discussed board-wide. Both the victim and the accused are minors, and thus cannot be named, but we have received reports from several credible sources that the alleged assaulter may be tried as an adult, and that the student attacked will no longer be attending William McKinley High School. Back to you, Rod.

"Goddamnit!" someone hissed, causing Finn to jump.

It was his mom, standing right behind him, scowling at the TV as if it was her number one enemy in the entire world. Finn parted his lips to ask what the hell was going on when Kurt made a soft noise, eyes blinking open. Faster than Finn thought he could move, he went up one channel and then shut off the TV. By this point Kurt was sitting up, rubbing at his eyes, and then glancing up at them both. "Hi. So, was the shopping trip successful? Because this couch has had far too many people sleeping on it lately – its comfort levels have dropped significantly."

Finn hung back as Kurt chatted with their parents about the shopping trip, trying to catch his mother's eye. She glanced over at him once, shook her head slightly, and jumped right back into the conversation.

Much later, he and Burt had struggled with putting the old couch out on the curb, and bringing in the new one (which looked infinitely more comfortable – good news for Finn). Burt agreed that it was fine for their friends to come over on Sunday, so Finn sent out a mass text confirming that for everyone. Soon after, Kurt was down in the basement, apparently fast asleep, though Burt went downstairs to check for himself. It was something he did quite often, the 'just checking' thing. Finn didn't blame him. When it was just him and Kurt, he didn't like being too far from him either – like somehow, something else, something more could happen if he wasn't close by.

"Mom?" Finn sat at the kitchen table, watching her put the last few plates in the dishwasher. "Mom, what was with the news story?"

She slammed the dishwasher shut hard, turning dials and flicking it on before facing him. She looked tired, both she and Burt did, all the time.

"It's nothing that you should be too concerned over. They can't mention names because both Kurt and that . . . boy are under-aged. I've been doing everything I can to make sure they understand that there's a lawsuit waiting for them if there's anything said that shouldn't be. But . . ." She bit her lip, wringing her hands a little. She came over, sitting down next to him, turning the chair to face him. "Finn, this is starting to get a lot of attention – people talk, you know that. But I'm doing my damndest – Burt's getting busy talking with lawyers about dealing with the school board, and keeping an eye on that boy's trial, so I've been taking over everything else and making sure the reporters and news people don't get too out of hand. You've been pretty much cooped up here in the house, but if anyone you don't know tries to call and ask questions, or if anyone comes to do the door, you let me know, okay?"

Finn felt a bit overwhelmed by this – reporters and news' crews asking about Kurt? About Azimio? Then again, when he really thought about it, how could they not know who it was? Lima wasn't tiny, but it definitely wasn't big either. Kurt stood out, and now that he wasn't in school, even the kids that hadn't been there that day had to know about it, and their parents had to know about it. How long could this stay under wraps?

"Finn, even if some of them figure out that it was Kurt that was, they still can't say anything, because Kurt's under-aged, all right? And soon this will all blow over. Unfortunately, tragedies like these can be a dime a dozen," she said with a bitter smile coupled with a hand resting on his thigh.

Finn hated that she was right, that what happened to Kurt wouldn't be big news after a few weeks, because who cared about another kid being beaten up for being different? Didn't that happen just about every day, sometimes with no one finding out about it? His hands clenched into fists on his lap, the overpowering urge to hit someone – Karofsky – surging up in him again, but he swallowed hard and breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. He managed a nod and half smile for his mom; she brushed a kiss against his temple before standing up and heading towards her bedroom.

They had already unfolded the bed from the couch, and put sheets and blankets on it for him. Finn stood contemplating it for a moment before collapsing face first onto it. It creaked a little as he found a good position, but yes, this was pretty freaking comfy.

He was half-asleep, dozing, when he heard a small clattering in the kitchen. He jumped up, tangled in his blankets, nearly falling to the floor. The light in the kitchen came on, just bright enough to cast a soft glow on him.

"Finn?"

"Kurt?" Finn shoved the blankets off, squinting towards the bright kitchen to see the other boy standing there, holding a glass of milk in his hands. Kurt was shaking a little, and there was redness to his eyes. Despite the drowsiness weighing down his limbs and mind, Finn managed to put the clues together, his voice soft as he asked, "Nightmare?"

Kurt didn't respond, but Finn didn't need him to – he was sure that was what was going on. He sat up, patting the bed next to him. Kurt stood unmoving for a while before taking slow steps and sitting gingerly on the edge of the mattress. Finn said nothing as Kurt finished off his milk, putting the glass on the couch-side table. He sat there, hands folded in his lap, though Finn could pick out the fine trembling in his fingers.

The silence stretched for untold minutes but Finn was okay with it. He wanted Kurt to be the one to say something first, and his wish was granted when he explained, very quietly, "You know I get them every time I close my eyes, but tonight it was like I was there again and it took me . . . a while, once I woke up, to remember that I wasn't. In the dark, alone . . . I had to remember that I wasn't dead, he hadn't killed me – I hadn't gone and left my father alone."

Finn couldn't quite make out his facial expression, but that shivering was back. He'd heard Burt talk about the fact that no matter how many blankets or how high the temperature in the house, sometimes Kurt would shiver and get cold, even though the doctors said that the hypothermia had passed. His heart hurting, his eyes closing, Finn had to force down unexpected tears because this was all so wrong. Kurt was like this ghost of himself, and sometimes he was clearer and present, but other times it was like you could look through him because he was barely there; Finn would have to squint to see anything that reminded him of the boy that could flounce out of a room even in a wheelchair, or demand that jocks pound him into paste because 'I'm proud to be different, it's the best thing about me'.

He grabbed an extra blanket that he wasn't using (because the house was a few degrees warmer than usual), and wrapped it gently around Kurt's shoulders. Kurt hardly flinched at the gesture, for which Finn was grateful, but he did tug the blanket in closer around him, the shuddering in his limbs a lot more apparent.

Even though he had no freaking idea what to say, Finn started talking, low and hopefully comforting. "It's going to be a long time before you stop having nightmares about this. It's . . . you're doing great, I think. I mean, you're dealing with it better than anyone we know would, and I'm including myself in that."

"But it wouldn't happen to anyone we know," Kurt disagreed and Finn could see the thin, weak smile that he was growing to hate. "Because no one we know is me – is loud, and so noticeable and gay."

Finn barely resisted the urge to punch Kurt in the shoulder like he would any of his other male friends – like he'd lightly done to Kurt on occasion before this whole mess – to make them stop thinking such stupid things. "Dude, hell yes this could have happened to anyone we know. Those assholes picked on you a hell of a lot, and I'm sorry we didn't stop them, I'm so sorry." Finn could hear the tears warping his voice again, but he swallowed hard and kept going. "But you weren't the only one they were brutal to – the crap they've done to me in the locker room alone, like when they held me down and drew on my face, snapped at me with towels. Look at Mercedes, she's your best friend, and she can be loud and noticeable too, and we know some of these douchebags don't give a crap that she's a girl. You told me how they actually shoved Tina. Rachel is louder than you, and uh, I know she's my girlfriend, but she can be obnoxious and definitely noticeable. And Artie, holy crap, the things they've done to him . . . Anything, or anyone of us could've set them off. It's not on you, dude, what happened – it's on them."

Kurt didn't say anything for another long while. He turned to Finn eventually, tilting his head. "Why do you keep saying 'them'? It was only Azimio who did this, Finn. Only him."

Finn inhaled deeply. "I know. You keep saying so. But every single asshole that's ever pushed you, called you names – I blame them all so damn hard, Kurt. I'm so Goddamned angry at all of them, and Karofsky –"

Kurt tensed noticeably. Finn could not let that go. "See – even saying his name. I know you said he didn't do anything, and that he even stopped Azimio from . . . but it's Karofsky. He was doing crap to you like . . . it's just, are you sure?"

It probably wasn't the best time or way to phrase the question, but Finn had to know.

Kurt adjusted his blanket as he answered, lifting a leg onto the bed so he could face Finn directly. "Karofsky showed up a few minutes after Ida did, and he was clearly shocked by what was happening, and I remember him yelling at Azimio. I passed out before he left, but Ida was there and she called an ambulance with a phone he handed to her. So . . ." Kurt dropped his eyes. "This time, it wasn't him. He had nothing to do with it."

For whatever reason, that didn't make a dent in Finn's anger against the other boy. Watching Kurt fall to pieces last night, cry and ream them out for not noticing before, for not stopping all the abuse before it got to this point, it all stoked the rage in Finn; he had clung to that wrath as a lifeline, and it wanted nothing more than to pound Karofsky into the dirt. It was like a light came on and Finn saw everything that the asshole had ever done – all the stuff Finn had filed under 'normal' – and then he saw Kurt, spunky, witty, ultra-gay-in-the-cool-way Kurt, crumpled against lockers, flinching at every loud sound, wincing and not able to carry his bag on bruised shoulders.

"He's been way more into hurting you, is all," Finn said tiredly, frustration lining his tone. "He's been the biggest asshole at school, and I guess a part of me wanted him to be in on this because then we could totally put his ass behind bars." Ida's mother had been right. "It's sick how he's so obsessed with keeping you down, Kurt."

There was a flinch. It was slight, hidden amongst the trembling, but Finn was getting really good at noticing these small things. He scooted in a little, eying Kurt closely. "Is there something else? Um, something more you wanna talk about?"

Kurt looked him straight in the eyes, shrugging. "Not really. The nightmares, they . . ." He wrapped himself up further in the blanket, to the point where it looked like he was in a cocoon. "After Ida comes to visit, they tend to be . . . more vivid. It's not her fault, but it's like she triggers it."

Finn nodded. "That makes sense. You met her during all that. She saved your life, but she also reminds you of it too. It kinda sucks, but do you want me to tell her to stay away for a while?"

"No, no, it's fine," Kurt said in a rush. "I'm just thinking out loud. The dreams are the worst, but sending Ida away isn't something I want to do – not to her. I'm willing to give it time."

"What about . . ." Finn didn't quite know how to ask this, understanding how resistant Kurt was to the idea. "What about that therapy thing, your dad was asking you about?"

The other boy tensed noticeably. "I'm not interested."

"I know you aren't, but c'mon, Kurt – people go to see therapists when, like, their hamster dies or when they lose their jobs, and this is way more . . ." Finn didn't want to use the word traumatic, partially because he wasn't entirely sure it was the correct term, but mostly because he didn't want it to apply to Kurt. But he did want Kurt to get any and all help he needed, so he pushed, remembering Mrs. Callaghan's words: "Don't be afraid. You're his friend – if he tells you to stop, or that he can't talk, you listen to him. But if he doesn't . . . trust your instincts."

"I think you should at least try it," Finn said, keeping his tone casual. "It'd be worth it if only to get you sleeping better, and hey, it'll make your dad happy. Or at least, he won't be as crazy worried as he is now, if he thinks you're getting help."

That was a little manipulative, he knew, but he knew enough about Kurt to know that his dad was his one weak spot, and that he hated being seen as vulnerable, which is all they saw him as nowadays. Finn wanted the old Kurt back – the sassy, unafraid, sometimes sort of mean, diva.

Kurt seemed to be thinking about it, and that satisfied Finn. "Whatever you want to do, man, it's fine. Do you think you're okay to get back to sleep now?"

The other boy nodded, a hand poking out from his nest of blankets, followed by the other, as he braced himself on the bed, standing up slowly. Finn settled down on his pile of pillows, but he wasn't ready to let Kurt go just yet. "If you have another nightmare, come on back up, dude. We can stay up watching a movie. I think there's a Bond marathon on all night. We can do that now if –"

Kurt was shaking his head, but his smile was sweet and real. "No thanks. Do you have any idea what a late night watching TV does for the bags under your eyes?"

Finn shrugged. "Okay, but don't you have, like, make-up or something to cover that up?"

Kurt gave him an exasperated look. "I don't wear make-up, Finn. At most, and only when absolutely necessary, I wear cover-up."

Finn failed to see the difference, but he nodded as if he understood. "Okay, well, whatever – point being, I'm here if you need me."

That small smile was back. "And I appreciate it. So, you go back to sleep, and, um, if you could just not mention this to my dad? He already knows that I still have nightmares, but he doesn't need to be informed every single time I have one."

Kurt ran his tongue along dry lips, his expression pleading, and Finn was already nodding. "No problem, Kurt."

He waited until the lights were off, and Kurt was long gone before he closed his eyes and let himself drift back to sleep.

He woke up abruptly, darkness still looming, an unknown amount of time later. Finn lunged into a sitting position, his skin tingling as his hair stood on end – he'd dreamed . . . something, though he didn't know what. He wasn't having nightmares, but his brain was definitely having a tough time figuring all this stuff out. This wasn't the first time he'd randomly woken up in the middle of the night.

He was turning on his side when he froze, hearing a soft noise, some rustling of . . . blankets? Pillows?

Squinting in the darkness, Finn could make out a lump on the love seat off to this right, a shape that hadn't been there before. He sat up again, slowly, silently, narrowing his eyes further. Another sleepy noise, familiar, and Finn's eyes finally recognized Kurt, huddled under four or five blankets, curled up – too long for the smaller couch, but he seemed relatively peaceful. He watched as Kurt turned over, mumbling a little, but then quieted, a hand falling to brush against the floor. Finn kept watching him for a few more minutes, and once he was sure that he wasn't having another nightmare, he lay down on his side. At the last second, before sleep could take him again, he grabbed his cell-phone off the couch-side table. He set the alarm for six – Burt was usually up by six thirty, even on Saturdays when the garage didn't open until ten or when he didn't have to go to work at all. If Finn woke up first, he could get Kurt downstairs, and no one would know about the nightmares from tonight.

Burt would probably find out anyways – he was paying crazy amounts of attention to every little thing Kurt did, but Finn knew Kurt would feel better if the other boy felt he wasn't worrying Burt anymore than he already was. Finn could lend a hand with that, as long as Kurt wasn't hiding anything too serious. He figured he could be the almost-stepbrother he already saw himself as by listening to Kurt, by soothing nightmares and trying to get him to see a therapist or something – by making him feel safe. It was the least he could do since he'd been such utter fail at helping him as friend, when it had really mattered.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

"You have to aim! Aim!"

"Shut up, Finn, I know – holy crap!"

"Cover! Duck under cover!"

"I know, Hudson, shut the hell – damnit, damnit!"

"Okay, you two need to cool it – it sounds like a battleground in here!" His mom walked in, and Finn flicked his eyes from the screen just long enough to take in the hands on her hips and the flicker of amusement and relief on her face. They weren't in any real trouble.

Kurt was blowing the crap out of people on the screen, something he'd sworn he would never find fun. Finn had the feeling that most of this had to with his getting Kurt into his own bed before his father realized anything. This crazy six-hour marathon of video gaming was probably his way of thanking of Finn for not mentioning anything to either of their parents.

But there was no way he was faking the crazed energy with which he was hammering those buttons, or that intense look in his eyes, normally reserved for scrutinizing his closet when selecting an outfit.

A couple of hours after his initial wake-up call to smuggle Kurt back down to the basement, Finn had been woken up again by noise in the kitchen, this time by a fresh-faced Kurt who helped him fold the bed back into the couch. The video gaming came after a small breakfast – well, small for Finn since Kurt's breakfast normally wasn't much more than a bowl of granola with dried fruits and milk, and Finn had eagerly agreed to sharing when Kurt asked if he could try out the Xbox.

He'd picked Mass Effect because he figured Kurt would appreciate the utter coolness of being able to design his own character, physically speaking (even though the armour wasn't much to look at and there were no clothes of any kind to choose from), pick his own back-story, and the fact that the plot was crazy good and detailed.

While Kurt was surprised and pleased by these things, he also seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the 'shoot the crap out of the bad guys' part too.

The front door opened not ten minutes later, Burt calling out, "I'm home! I brought ice cream for dessert – and I won't be having any, Kurt, before you can . . . geez, are you two still plugged into that game?"

Kurt paused his battle, and both he and Finn turned to smile at Burt. Finn could see the man staring, eyebrows raised high on his forehead, but soon he was grinning at Kurt, eyes crinkling at the corners. It was easy to see why: Kurt was flushed, bright eyed, and there were no blankets in sight. He was dressed in clothes a little more like himself – tight designer jeans, a weird-patterned shirt with a thin, button-up sweater on top – and more importantly, he was smiling wide and true. Finn felt distinctly proud of himself and had to fight the urge to ruffle Kurt's hair; the boy had also actually taken the time to style it with something close to his usual effort. It was perfect and off his forehead, and Finn had a feeling that if he put a hand anywhere near that, he wouldn't be getting it back in one piece.

"Dad, I'm in the middle of taking out a band of alien mercenaries. As soon as I'm done, I'll help Carole with dinner and we shall discuss you having maybe one scoop of ice cream for dessert."

Burt rolled his eyes at Finn. "Listen to him talk as if he can determine what I eat and when I eat it."

"It's what I've been doing for more than a month – your argument would have more weight if you didn't take my orders, which incidentally, happen to also be your doctor's orders."

Kurt resumed shooting the hell out of the mercenaries and Finn was shrugging at Burt while holding back an amused grin – unsuccessfully. Burt grinned too and took his bag of ice cream to the kitchen. There were loud smacking sounds that drifted out from there not long after, and both Finn and Kurt exchanged vaguely disgusted looks. Finn was about to tell their parents to take it behind closed doors when the phone rang, interrupting everybody. His mom answered it right after the first ring.

"Hello? Oh, hey Rachel, did you want me to – oh?"

Finn had perked up at his girlfriend's name. She hadn't mentioned when she would be dropping by today, only that she would be. Why hadn't she texted or called him on his phone, though?

"Hold on a second, honey, I'm going to pass you to Burt, okay?"

Finn stopped pretending to be uninterested, and Kurt had paused the game again, craning his neck a bit to see Burt and Finn's mom standing close together as Burt listened to Rachel on the other end of the phone. His mouth was pressed into a stern line, and his brows were close together, but he was nodding along and saying, "Uh huh. We've considered it, yeah . . . okay, in that case, we'll see you all in about an hour and a half? . . . Right, did you want to talk to Finn?"

Finn stood up, walking with his hand outstretched for the phone. Burt held up his own free hand, shaking his head. "You'll talk to him when you get here. Right, that's fine, Rachel. Yeah, see you soon."

He pouted a little and was about to complain when Kurt called, "Finn, your phone is buzzing!"

Finn walked over and sat back down next to Kurt, checking his cell and seeing a message from Rachel: Sorry, been busy with my dads today but I'll see you soon! xoxoXO

He smiled happily to himself, and then almost jumped clean off the couch as Kurt let loose a victory shout. "I am ridiculously good at this! Finn, witness my talent, please."

Finn chuckled to himself, but resumed paying attention to Kurt's on-going saga, texting the other gleeks (as well as Blaine and Ida) randomly, giving them a much happier update on Kurt's state of mind.

Of course, things got tense again when the Berrys arrived. Somehow, everyone sensed this wasn't a simple dinner get-together, and despite the smiles and introductions going around, Finn could see Kurt closing in on himself again, becoming the phantom, insubstantial and soundless. He moved in closer to Kurt, trying to be a kind of silent support. He wasn't sure if it was working, if Kurt even noticed, but Finn stuck close to him, even with Rachel smiling brightly at him from between her two dads.

Rachel's dads were pretty cool – a tall black man that had a soft, kind smile, and a shorter white dude with glasses and a funny laugh – and both of them had been nice about Finn dating their daughter. Okay, Charles Berry had threatened him while cleaning his gardening sheers, but Finn couldn't fault the man for that.

"It's an honour to meet you, Mr. Hummel, Mrs. Hudson," Jacob Berry was saying, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "You have no idea how much Rachel natters on about Kurt – if it weren't for the fact that he were gay, we would've been sure that he'd be our future son-in-law."

Kurt and Rachel both blushed and then laughed when they caught sight of each other's red faces. Rachel bounced over to Kurt after that, grabbing his hand in one of her own small, olive-toned ones. "Can we talk alone?"

Finn watched as Kurt darted a look towards his dad, who was leading Rachel's dads towards the kitchen, and then back to Rachel.

"Can 'alone' include Finn? I've sort of gotten used to having my own personal Frankenteen following me around." Kurt flicked a small smile up at him as he spoke. Finn had never felt more like a big brother and he was totally unembarrassed to admit to himself that he kind of loved it. He ducked his head, grinning as Rachel giggled and lead the way to the basement.

Once they got there, Rachel and Kurt sat down on the couch together, while Finn grabbed a chair and lifted it over to them (Kurt had shot him a glare so lethal the last time he'd dragged it across the carpet, Finn had never attempted it again) so he could sit closer to the conversation. It was quiet for a minute, and then Rachel cleared her throat, sitting up straighter.

"I've been waiting all week for an opportunity to speak with you, but then everyone was here, all the time, and it . . . it wasn't something I wanted to discuss with the others around. I wanted it to be between you and me. Finn is an acceptable exception." She flashed him the warm, lovely smile that always made him feel like he could take on the world. Finn smiled back, widely and happily, but stayed quiet. He wanted Rachel to have her time with Kurt without him getting in the middle.

As Rachel spoke, Kurt nodded. "You're not the only one. I get the feeling Mercedes has been waiting to get me alone too, but then on Thursday . . ." Kurt trailed off, sighing softly. "I feel like I should apologize – and not just to you two. I shouldn't have lashed out at all of you like that –"

"No, no Kurt!" Rachel said firmly. "You were perfectly right. I wanted to tell you, first and foremost, that I am sorry. I'm sorry for not paying enough attention to what was happening to you. I'm sorry for not reaching out and being a better friend to you, especially considering my background." Her cheeks took on a pink flush, and she continued on, quieter than before. "My dads came to offer something to you and your dad today, to help you both out. I never . . . I never mentioned you having trouble . . . Papa made me feel really ashamed for that. We all know how amazing your dad is, Kurt, especially after he came into the school to make sure you had the opportunity to audition against me for 'Defying Gravity'. I assumed that you were fine, that with your dad you could handle anything, and that if there was anything wrong you would tell him, or Mercedes or any of us."

"It's not your fault that I'm stubborn about telling people things, Rachel," Kurt said in an almost whisper, drawing his knees up to his chest, looking away. "It's not your fault I didn't complain to the faculty or . . ."

"That doesn't matter!" she burst out. "Because they know, they had to know how bad it was getting. They saw it happening and they're the grown-ups, they should have taken some action! As much as I appreciate him, Mr. Schuester should have done something the instant he saw you getting tossed into a dumpster or thrown against a locker."

She inhaled sharply, eyes gleaming. "I never once let it cross my mind that it was getting worse, because everyone around you, including me, acted like what you were going through was acceptable. And it wasn't Kurt, you're right. The same words they hissed at you in those hallways? They've been following me my whole life because of who my dads are. Because I'm lucky enough to have two parents that worked hard to get me, to love me, and spoil me – somehow I'm warped, twisted, because of it. I should have reached out to you because of course things we're going wrong. Of course you were going through the same things I was, if not worse, since somehow people seem to think that it's less violent or offensive to hit and insult boys rather than girls. I'm sorry, Kurt, I'm so, so sorry for being so selfish!"

Tears were escaping her brown eyes, and Kurt reached out and pulled her close, hugging her as his own shoulders shook. Finn had to hold back on hugging them both, on cradling his girlfriend to his chest, because it wasn't fair that two of the best people he knew had to go through so much crap because they were different in ways that they couldn't control.

Eventually they pulled away, Rachel looking slightly more composed, while Kurt looked fragile and shaky. Finn immediately reached for a blanket from one of the piles that seemed to be everywhere in the house lately, and tossed it over Kurt's legs. Kurt pulled it up higher, smiling wanly at him.

Rachel took in a deep breath and both Finn and Kurt turned to her again. "The day that everything happened, after that huge fight in the hall – I was so scared, Kurt, I called my dads, so they could take me to the hospital but . . ." Rachel moved in closer, biting her lip once. "My dads made me come home – they were scared. If you were hurt, the daughter of two gay men might be a target too. I'd never seen them that frightened. Ever. So I stayed home with them. But I really wanted to be at the hospital with you."

"Why do your dads even live here, Rachel?" Kurt breathed out as he pulled his blanket up even higher. "This town –"

"Because it's not . . . Even though I want to get out of here, it's a decent place, Lima, I mean, aside from the hellhole that is McKinley. I'm not afraid to walk outside at night, and not all our neighbours may be thrilled about it, but they don't act like they care that there are two gay men living next door – well, there was this woman, down the street, who tried to start something, but my dads told her flat out that if she said or did anything, they would call their lawyers and shut her up legally. There's homophobic people everywhere Kurt, even in the cities. We live here because it's a safe town, and daddy, he grew up here, so we have family nearby."

Kurt said nothing in reply to that, going silent again before asking, "You said your dads had something for me?"

Rachel nodded. "They wanted to let you know that their contacts at the ACLU are perfectly willing to open up a lawsuit on your behalf against the school board and Figgins. What happened to you was a direct result of their gross negligence and it is very likely that you would win if you decided to take such action."

Finn couldn't really tell what Kurt was thinking, but he could see that he was feeling tired again – and not the type of tired that meant he was getting sleepy. No, this was a completely different sort of exhaustion. His eyes would kind of go more grey than blue/green/grey, and then he'd sort of lose focus, his mouth tightening as if he was angry.

He knew Kurt just wanted all of this to be over, and a lawsuit could drag on for months and months, if not years.

"I think your dad is interested in doing this. My dads are talking to him and Carole right now. I asked them if I could tell you while they talk to them because, well, I just wanted to make it clear to you that I am behind you one hundred percent, whatever you decide, and I'll defend your choice, to your family, to my family. Whatever you need from me, Kurt, I'm there."

Kurt nodded slowly, still real quiet, his eyes doing that shining thing which meant that he was trying not to cry. Finn was just opening his mouth to throw in his own two cents when the doorbell rang, causing all three of them to jump or flinch. Finn stood up, putting a staying hand on Kurt's trembling shoulders. "Don't worry, dude, I'm sure mom or Burt are going to get it."

A few seconds later, the basement door was opening, and Burt was calling down, "Kurt? Could you stand another visitor, kiddo?"

Wiping at his face with the corner of his blanket, Kurt cleared his throat, before calling up, "Sure, dad."

Finn was not expecting Puck to come thundering down the stairs, looking wild and nervous and freaked all at once. When his eyes fell on Kurt, he seemed to pull himself together, and nod his direction. "What's up, dude? You, um, you feeling better?"

Kurt smiled faintly, seemingly amused. "Sure, Puck. A little better. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Puck's eyes darted over to Finn. "I just, I had something really important I needed to tell Finn – like, really, really important. Would it be cool if we went outside for a minute?"

He was bouncing on the balls of his feet and Kurt blinked, exchanging confused looks with Rachel, and then glancing over at Finn who was feeling pretty lost himself. "If you want to, go ahead, Rachel and I are fine down here."

Puck exhaled loudly. "Awesome. Finn, move your ass, man." He turned and took the stairs up two at a time.

Finn raced up the stairs after him, waving briefly at Burt, his mom, and the Berrys, who were now sitting in the living room. "Just going outside to talk for a bit!" He then followed Puck out onto the porch, wondering out loud, "Dude! What is your malfunction?"

Puck's eyes were wide again and he was back to seeming both confused and panicked, the most out of control Finn had ever seen him.

"I went after Karofsky."

Finn balked, his own eyes widening painfully. "Oh no. Puck, man, tell me I don't have to –"

"Nah, I didn't lay a hand on him – uh, at least nothing too bad." Puck waved off Finn's concern. Finn relaxed a little, relieved to know he wouldn't have to help Puck bury a body, or provide an alibi. "I don't want to end up back in jail. No, I just wanted to shake him up a little, give him the lowdown on what would happen to him if he ever even thought about touching Kurt. And when he didn't bite, I went the 'I'll post all your deep, dark secrets on Jewfro's blog' route, because, well, everyone in this sorry-ass town has something to hide."

Finn was very familiar with this particular Puck tactic. It came from being a desperate housewives' gigolo; he knew far more about some of the more respectable members of this community than most. He was smart enough to keep quiet about it, because he wasn't into that kind of trouble, or at least that's what he said – Finn sometimes thought Puck had more of a conscience than he let on.

"Dude, the guy went ballistic! He flipped out, kept saying he was going to kill Kurt if he found out the runt had said anything."

Finn flinched, because that was a little too close to home, and wow, maybe it would have better if Puck had risked jail and roughed up the asshole.

"So, I tell him that Kurt didn't tell me anything – I found out on my own, or something. I mean, I had no clue what the hell the guy was talkin' about so I tried to get him to spill." Puck looked over his shoulder to the darkened, empty street, and leaned in close. "Finn, Karofsky was about to cry. He begged me not to tell anyone, and I told him that I wouldn't tell as long as he told me what he's been doing to Kurt. I wanted to know, once and for all, if he had anything to do with what Azimio did."

Finn froze, unable to speak. This is it.

Puck breathed out, eyes widening further, voice cracking as he spoke, "He didn't. But man, it's so freaking . . . he kissed Kurt."

The world screeched to a halt.

Now Finn couldn't move for a whole different reason. He stared, mouth open, eyes blinking. There was no way. "I . . . you must've heard him wrong. There's no way that . . . why would he even tell you that?" His voice sounded far away and weak to his own ears.

"I'm telling you how." Puck ran a hand over his mohawk, pushing out air as if he had to remind himself to breathe. When he spoke next it made only a little more sense (but not really – Karofsky kiss Kurt? How? Why? What the hell?).

"It went down like this: he was practically blubbering, saying that he didn't do anything, that he'd just snapped, and I got pissed man. I thought that maybe he'd done something to Kurt that we didn't know about. I shoved Karofsky up against a wall, told him it was over – that he was through, that I knew it all and I just wanted to hear him say it. He said that he'd only done it once and that it was a freaky, fluke thing, that he'd never wanted to kiss any guy . . ." Puck was rambling non-stop, wheezing and shocked. "I heard it loud and clear. And I let him go. Told him that he needed to stay away from Kurt, for good, or else I would spill it to everyone. But I don't even know what to do with this, man."

His knees felt like jelly – Finn collapsed against the porch railing, lifting a hand to wipe cold sweat from his brow. Crap. How could this be happening? How could Kurt – but then again, why would Kurt tell? If Karofsky was some sort of closeted (Karofsky, who the hell would have guessed?) creep . . . Was this why Karofsky had been so dead-set on throwing Kurt around lately? The thought occurred to Finn just as Puck leaned against the railing next to him. "It makes a weird sort of sense – I mean, Karofsky's been so focused on nailing Kurt –"

Finn squeaked out a noise and Puck winced. "Yeah, okay, bad choice of words. Um, yeah, I don't know when it happened, but . . . I mean, Finn, what do we do?" He was gripping the railing tightly, knuckles turning white.

There was nothing Finn could think of to say, because there was nothing he could think of to do.

They sat there, in silence, until the front door opened and Kurt stuck his head out. "Hey, you two still talking? Dad says there's dinner. Puck, you can stay if you want."

"Uh, that's cool," Puck said, shoving his hands deep into his jeans' pocket. "But I should be getting home – Sabbath and all. Good to see you, Kurt."

Kurt smiled at Puck. "Are you coming by tomorrow with everyone else?"

Puck darted a look at Finn, his eyes full of a million unasked questions. "I think so. You okay with all us of coming? I think Sam's bringing the original Tron over."

The boy shrugged. "Sounds good to me. See you tomorrow, Puck."

Puck gave Finn one last look before darting down the porch steps and disappearing. Kurt stood there, frowning. "Was everything okay with him? He seemed off."

Finn tried to come up with a believable excuse. "Yeah, man, he's just . . . worried about you. He was asking me a bunch of questions – I think he was going to tell everyone to back off and give you another couple of days." It was a half-truth, which was the only way Finn could lie about this and not give anything away. His brain was overloading, burning with the need to ask Kurt about Karofsky, but he held it in, though it hurt like hell to do it. Seriously, what the fucking hell?

Kurt's eyes widened. "Wow, that's . . . wow. Puck? Really?"

Finn struggled to find more words, feeling both proud and surprised at how casual they sounded when he finally got them out. "Yeah, he's like Schuester's undersheriff at school. He's hardcore about keeping things from getting out of hand again, and protecting you, even though you're not coming back."

Kurt didn't seem like he knew what to do with this information, and Finn was just trying to not let his inner freak out lead to an outer freak out. They both stood there, looking at each other, and Finn was opening his mouth to say who the hell knew what, when Burt called, "Dinner! C'mon you two, get inside!"

They ended up having a fairly easy-going dinner with Rachel's dads, and Finn tried to force his newfound, frightening perspective on Karofsky's bullying to the back of his mind.

It was when they were all having desert – some ice cream, a carrot cake the Berrys brought over, and a plate of fruits for Rachel (and Kurt, as he turned down a slice the cake, though he did have one scoop of ice cream, using the fruit as topping) – that Jacob Berry cleared his throat loudly, bringing silence to the table.

He leaned forward, looking at Kurt with serious eyes. "I know Rachel told you some of what we came to tell your dad, Kurt. I realize you've had very little time to absorb it all, so feel free to disregard this question, but do you have any idea which way you're leaning towards?"

Finn didn't think it was fair to ask Kurt this right now, but Burt wasn't saying anything, so he kept his mouth shut. He could see Kurt process the question, his expression becoming closed off. "I'll be honest, Mr. Berry, my first inclination is to say no."

Burt let out a sigh. "I figured that would be it. Son, I'm not doing anything without your approval, but could you tell me why you don't want to make them pay? 'Cause the thought had crossed my mind before Charles and Jacob brought it up tonight."

Finn noticed Kurt's hands trembling, but the other boy slid them off the table before anyone else could. Kurt replied in a quiet, even tone, "Because, dad, I don't want this hanging over my head for months. I don't want to call any more attention to myself than I already have. Azimio's been arrested, I'm transferring schools. Please, let that be enough." Finn's instincts about Kurt had been right, and honestly, he was on Kurt's side for this – he wouldn't want it to drag on forever either.

His mom shifted in her seat. "Kurt, honey, I wish that it could be. But as it stands, this is already drawing a lot of attention. Mr. Schuester, Burt and Mrs. Callaghan have been putting pressure on the school board to consider implementing a zero tolerance policy at McKinley, and they are not the only parents trying. Artie's mom has been right there with us, and so have Tina's mother and father. The police have been considering planning an anti-bullying assembly, and there's been news coverage on a state-wide level. I don't want you to have to go through any more pain, but there are so many things in motion right now . . ." She stopped there, glancing towards the other adults sitting around the table, Burt in particular. He put a hand over hers and smiled encouragingly, which seemed to be all she needed to continue. "Maybe it would be better to take action now when it's fresh in everyone's minds, so that something like this can never happen here again."

Everyone was quiet as they watched Kurt, who was staring down at the tablecloth, not saying a word. Finn took in what his mom said, wincing inwardly. It sort of sounded like Kurt was becoming a poster boy for this zero-tolerance thing, and that just wasn't something he could see Kurt wanting. His friend seemed more interested in blending into the background now, but even the Kurt that was loud and proud probably wouldn't have wanted this – to be this victimized gay kid on the eleven o'clock news or on Nancy Grace. That wasn't Kurt Hummel. It shouldn't be the only thing about him that gets noticed, Finn thought with a lot of anger and a little sadness. This just never stops sucking.

"Kiddo, I told you – whatever you decide is what I'm gonna go with, okay?" Burt reached his other hand out to rest gently on Kurt's shoulder.

"And the news coverage, it's been very vague – they can't release names because you and that boy are both minors," his mom said reassuringly.

"Why haven't I heard about this before?" Kurt lifted his eyes from the tablecloth.

"Because," Finn's mom said, sounding both frustrated and upset, "up until now, I've managed to badger the hell out of them, and keep it from getting too out of hand, but pretty much as soon as state networks picked up on it, I lost the battle. I'm still on their case – while they can't release names, I want to make sure that nothing of your private life makes its way onto the air. I wish I could make them stop completely, Kurt, I really wish I could."

"A lawsuit would probably make all that worse," Charles Berry sighed. "Depending on how hard the school board fights it, it could get a lot of attention – bring in a lot of people, on both sides of the issue."

"Especially once it gets out that the student attacked is gay," Rachel's other father pointed out. Rachel was keeping quiet, just like Finn, and her eyes were full to the brim with sadness as she leaned in close to Charles.

"Which is exactly why I don't want to do this," Kurt broke in, his voice coming out a little louder. "I don't want this becoming a national campaign. I just want to forget it ever happened. Please, dad. Please."

The hand on Kurt's shoulder squeezed. "Okay. But it's only been a few hours since you heard about this, so how about you give it another couple of days before you decide?"

Kurt inhaled. "Fine. I . . . appreciate everything, Mr. and Mr. Berry, but I'm feeling tired. May I be excused?"

Burt nodded, frowning as Kurt got up from the table. Finn watched him go, feeling the urge to follow; Kurt had rarely left his sight in the past few days, even though up until last night, he and his mom had been going back to their old house every evening. They hadn't really bothered packing too much since they knew Burt was already looking for a new house for them. Finn was looking forward to having his own room – right now most of his stuff was in a large walk-in closet next to the main bathroom. The sofa-bed had proven itself comfortable, and Finn figured once school started up again for him, he could ask Kurt if it would be okay for them to share a room until they moved out. He'd gotten used to being around the boy, and it felt weird, not knowing what he was up to. Finn wondered if there was something wrong with that.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Rachel told him a half hour later, as they stood together on the porch. Her dads were inside, saying their goodbyes to his mom and Burt. "You're worried about him, and you care about his well being. I'm pretty sure if Mercedes had her way, she'd be living here too, just to keep an eye on him. I personally find it reassuring that you've been suspended, if only because you can be there when his dad and your mom can't."

"Until he goes to his new school," Finn said miserably. "It's so weird, Rachel. I've never been so freaked out about someone before. And angry. I'm so angry, all the time. I don't know what to do with that." Karofsky, a random voice in his mind piped up, Karofsky kissed Kurt. That son of a bitch kissed Kurt, and there's no way Kurt wanted that. God, that asshole.

Rachel was worrying her lower lip, wrapping her arms around him. "You're angry, and I'm scared. All the time. I keep thinking that this will get my dads noticed, get my family in trouble. I keep thinking that something else might happen to Kurt and . . ." She shuddered, and Finn put aside his dark thoughts on Karofsky, focusing on hugging her closely, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Yeah. Everything's really messed up right now." More than you know. "But Kurt's okay. Nothing's going to happen your dads, or to you. Burt, and my mom, and Ida's mom, and like, everyone else's parents, they're all doing something to make it all better for us. That's gotta count for something."

Rachel sniffed, burying her face in his chest for a few seconds before breathing out and looking up at him. As soon as Finn saw those beautiful but worry-filled chocolate coloured eyes, he had to smile. And then he had to kiss her – kiss his gorgeous, loud, talented and frighteningly determined girlfriend. She had every right to be scared, but Finn didn't want her to be. He kissed her softly at first, then wrapped his arms even more tightly around her, lifting slightly so that he could get a better angle and kiss her more deeply.

She sighed quietly once their mouths parted, and gazed up at him all sparkly eyed and pink-faced. "I may need a lot of that for the next while."

Finn raised his eyebrows, grinning. "Well, make sure you come find me then. Don't be shy about asking."

Rachel laughed and snuggled into his arms again. "And just for the record – I think it's normal that you're angry, Finn. It's probably going to take a long time for us to stop being scared and angry, so until then, we're going to stick close together. All of us."

The front door opened and Rachel's dads stepped out. Finn instantly put a little distance between he and Rachel, though he kept an arm wrapped around her shoulders. Rachel poked him in the side teasingly at this, and then leaned into him as Burt and Finn's mom followed her dads out. They all stood there for a second.

"Where's Kurt?" Finn asked, trying to see if he was maybe standing behind everyone.

"He's down in his room," Burt replied, taking off his baseball cap, turning it around in his hands a few times before jamming it back onto his head. "I'll check on him in a few minutes – didn't want to smother him after . . . after dinner."

"Give Kurt our best," Jacob said quietly.

"We're sorry for keeping Rachel away from him, and from you, Finn, during Kurt's stay at the hospital," Charles said, and Rachel went to her father's side immediately at the sound of his regretful tone. "I'm sure Rachel has told you why."

Finn nodded. "And you really don't need to apologize, Mr. Berry. I'm glad she was with you guys – Kurt understands it too."

The rest of the good-byes were light, and Finn promised Rachel to let her and all of the rest of their friends know if Kurt wasn't up to seeing them tomorrow. Once the Berrys were gone, Burt turned to Finn. "I'm going to check on Kurt. Give your mom a hand with the dishes, will ya, kid?"

Finn followed his mother in kitchen. She pulled him into a hug after tying an apron around herself; he accepted it gratefully, hugging her to him tightly. They pulled back silently and exchanged small smiles before starting in on the dirty stuff in the sink, all the plates, cups and cutlery. His mom wasn't loading the dishwasher though – she was washing them all by hand, handing them to Finn to rinse and put in the dish drying rack. He didn't say a word. He understood the need to keep one's hands busy.

When they were about half way through the pile, Burt appeared in the kitchen, sitting down at the table and watching them. Finn glanced over after a few minutes of silence. Burt caught his gaze. "Kurt's real tired. He said he's gonna turn in early. But he's still okay with your friends coming on by tomorrow. I think he wants the distraction."

That was good to know, Finn supposed, but he still felt like popping in on Kurt himself. Maybe he'd just look in on him before he went to bed.

"Maybe we shouldn't have sprung all this on him so soon." His mom turned away from the sink, wiping her hands on her apron. Her voice was cracking, rasping a little. Finn instinctively put a hand on her shoulder, and she covered it with one of her own, flashing a tearful yet loving smile.

Burt shook his head. "I just want to get everything out in the open – I don't want him thinking we're doin' these things behind his back. And if we're going to do this, I'd want to start sooner rather later. As fast as I can let this be over . . ."

"But the whole thing with the lawsuit, that could drag on forever," Finn pointed out, timidly at first. "I get why you want to do it – hell, I kinda want it too – but I get what Kurt is saying. And I'm on his side."

Burt looked over at him, and Finn couldn't read the expression on the man's face. After a second, he smiled and Finn smiled back.

"It's good to know you're in his corner, buddy." Burt stood up from the table, stretching and scrubbing at his face once his back cracked. "I'm gonna have a quick shower, and then head to bed. Sorry for bailing on the dishes, Carole."

"I volunteered, honey, please. I'll join you once I'm done here, Burt." His mom had turned back and resumed washing dishes. Burt disappeared soon after that, and Finn wondered if he should tell his mom about what Puck had found out.

For somewhere in the living room, Finn's cell phone rang out, but he didn't rush to get it, moving to help his mom with dishes again. His mom glanced at him. "Go on, sweetheart, it's okay."

He pressed a quick kiss to the top of his mom's head, and then went to grab it, without looking to see who was calling. "Hello?"

"Dude, did you tell Mr. Hummel what happened?"

Finn immediately moved further away from the kitchen. "Are you crazy? I think Burt would freakin' murder Karofsky and bury him in our backyard." It was a possibility he hadn't considered until he said it – he had no idea what Burt would do if he found out about this, on the heels of everything else that had happened to Kurt, but, then again, didn't he have a right to know?

"Yeah, yeah you're probably right." Puck breathed out heavily. "It's just, it doesn't feel right, man. Someone needs to know about this. Like, what if Karofsky is like . . . I don't know, sort of in love with Kurt? Don't you think that could lead to a worse mess somewhere down the line?"

"I don't know." Finn ran a hand through his hair. "Listen, at some point, I'm gonna talk about this with Kurt. We don't know what happened, and I'm thinking that since Karofsky is so freaked out about it, that means it was just a one time thing, and that he's not going to go blabbing any time soon. He stopped Azimio from hurting Kurt. I'm kinda hoping that means that he's just messed up and scared as opposed to really jacked up and creepy."

Puck was silent for a while, and Finn went over his own words in his head, nodding to himself. As pissed off as he was about Karofsky, if he tried to be a little reasonable, a little optimistic about the whole thing, he could see that Karofsky might not be the villain in this situation. Just another victim.

Kurt was surrounded by people who loved him for who he was – people who occasionally said offensive things, but never to actually hurt him (though Finn knew that's what happened and being oblivious to someone's pain, it turned out, could be just as bad as causing it). Dave Karofsky, on the other hand, was surrounded by the same jackass jocks Finn had learned to distance himself from, and had built up a reputation and popularity based on being one of the so-called 'cool' asshole popular kids. He could say with a degree of certainty that there would probably not be a single one of those guys who would stick by Dave if he came out of the closet, and that included his best friend, Azimio.

And since Dave had spent most of life abusing and hating on the very people who would accept him for who he was . . . Finn winced. He wasn't sure what he would have done if Dave came to him with this – if he would have been the better person and tried to help the guy out. As of now, he was still simmering on a low boil with anger, and it was difficult to imagine lending a hand to the very guy who so often pushed, shoved, threw slushies, and said awful things that Finn now knew could apply to Dave.

"I'm thinking Kurt's dealing with enough bull-crap, right now." Pucks words were uncharacteristically soft. "The news has started in on McKinley – I saw it this morning, and I heard some guys talking about it at the mall today. It's starting to be a big deal. You and I can handle Karofsky for him."

Finn's happy but slightly disbelieving laugh had Puck chuckling too. They didn't need to say why they were suddenly laughing. He was pretty sure that the Finn and Puck of now would be total strangers to the Finn and Puck of a year ago, of a few months ago even.

"I'm going to tell him we know. I don't get how he could keep this a secret for so long, but I think that telling him we know, and that we aren't going to do anything he doesn't want us to do . . . that's gotta be a help, right?"

"Fuck if I know, Hudson. But yeah. Listen, I've gotta go. Catch you later?"

"Tomorrow," Finn said and hung up. He had wandered as far from the kitchen and bedrooms as he could, lingering near the front door. As he walked back out into the living room, he saw that the kitchen was empty, the sofa-bed laid out for him, and his mom was nowhere in sight. She must've finished and headed to bed, something Finn was thinking of doing himself. He felt so tired, even though he'd done nothing much other than watch Kurt play video games and listen to other people talk.

Sleep sounded awesome right about now.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

An hour later, having risked trauma by knocking on Burt and his mom's bedroom door to wish them goodnight (they were fully clothed and talking when Burt answered the door, thank God), he was in his PJs and snuggled into his bed. While channel surfing, he managed to catch a Bond movie (one of the Sean Connery ones) near its beginning, and settled down to watch it.

Unfortunately, not even bouncy Bond girls and gun battles could keep his brain from running around in circles.

He ended up with the TV off, staring at the ceiling. Unable to slip completely into dreamland, his brain worked through things randomly: worry for Kurt, the shocking Karofsky revelation, wondering if Rachel was right – that eventually the anger, the freaked-out-ness, would all fade. But in that minute, everything felt wrong, in such a way that he couldn't imagine it ever being right.

He hoped that if he did manage to fall asleep, his dreams wouldn't be weird ones, like that one about the gnomes and Mr. Schue's sweater vests . . . Dreams . . . Nightmares . . . Finn sat up straight, any lingering drowsiness draining so fast he felt dizzy. He glanced in the direction of Kurt's basement door.

Kurt might end up being too shy or proud to come to him like he had the night before. He stood up, careful with his steps, trying to walk on the balls of his feet to make less noise. This was useless when it came to the steps leading down to Kurt's room – Finn knew it was nearly impossible to walk on those stairs quietly. They always made some kind of creak, echoing throughout the basement.

He managed three steps in relative silence, crouching down to see if he could spot Kurt. The boy's bed was against the far wall, and he was curled up on it, with this back to Finn, but after a second, he flipped over, sighing loudly.

"Hey," Finn called out in a loud whisper.

Kurt flew up into a sitting position, pushing himself almost to the edge of the mattress furthest from Finn. His eyes were so huge Finn could make them out in the barely-there silver light of the moon coming in through the windows near the ceiling.

"God, Finn." Kurt was bunching up his blankets between two straining, white-knuckled fists. "What are you doing?"

Finn took the rest of the stairs with less caution, though he kept in mind that their parents were sleeping in the room above their heads.

"I figured you'd . . . well, the nightmares. Wanted to check on you, let you know you could come up and hang with me, if you wanted."

Kurt blinked at him, his grip loosening on his sheets and comforter as Finn approached slowly to sit on the edge of the bed.

"That's kind of you, but I think I'm all right. Truth be told, I doubt I'll be getting much sleep."

Finn nodded. "Me either. I just keep trying to figure things out, but I know I can't figure them out – a lot of it is just, like, time. Things won't make sense 'til we have a little distance on them, right?"

Kurt let loose a breath of a laugh. "You're quite right, Finn Hudson. Time. The great healer, they say."

"I don't know about that but, um, maybe we'll be a little better off in a few weeks?" Finn moved until he had his back to the wall, and Kurt's feet were brushing his thighs.

The silence stretched for a few minutes as Kurt adjusted himself into a more comfortable position. "You don't need to hang out with me all night."

"I just said I wasn't getting any sleep, didn't I?" Finn countered. "It's cool. Besides, there's loads to talk about and stuff. Maybe we'll get sleepy. Hey, tell me about that Patty Bone chick, that oughta do it."

Kurt flung a pillow at him, hissing, "That's Patti LuPone, you uncultured swine."

"Hey!" Finn fished out one of Kurt's feet from beneath the mountain of blankets, and immediately buried his fingers in the soft arch. The high-pitched giggles that burst forth were both hilarious and kind of adorable (Kurt was so the little brother in this thing, although he wasn't sure when Kurt's birthday was), and so, so awesome to hear, because Kurt was laughing.

"Finn, I swear to God, if you don't stop –" Any threat Kurt had been about to issue would have been fairly ineffective, considering he was breathless with laughter, trying to whisper, and so ruffled up and harmless looking that Finn started laughing himself. Kurt got a decent grip on another pillow and smacked him with that as well, and then managed to get his foot out of Finn's grip, kicking him once in the side in retaliation.

"Ow! Geez, that hurt!"

"Learned your lesson, have you?" the other boy groused, but he was sort of smiling, rearranging his pillows and settling back against them.

Finn rubbed at his ribs, glaring at Kurt balefully, but also unable to keep his lips from pulling upwards. "You have a mean kick."

"Uh, duh. Did you not learn that from the football experience last year?"

He made a noise of agreement and settled again, back to the wall, Kurt's feet partially buried under Finn's knees. It was a comfortable quiet that followed, and Kurt was smiling, which was great. Even with the whole Karofsky thing burdening him, Finn could relax in the other boy's presence. Whenever Kurt was at ease, Finn felt lighter – he knew he was desperately snatching any bit of normal that came by, but it felt good so he wasn't going to question or think about it too much.

Kurt pushed himself further into his pillows, his body stretching and bones cracking as he tried to get comfortable. Finn watched his eyelids sagging downwards, and it was clear that Kurt might be on the verge of falling asleep.

"Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

Finn meant to say 'good night', he really did. It was in his head, travelling down to his vocal chords, his mouth opening.

What came out instead was: "I know Karofsky k-kissed you."

Kurt's eyes snapped open. A split second later he was flying up into a sitting position, arms flung out on either side as if keeping him anchored down.

Finn recoiled at the panic twisting Kurt's features, along with confusion and fear. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean –"

"How? When?" was all Kurt seemed able to ask. He was pushing the blankets down, dragging himself as he moved as far from Finn as he could. He reached the edge of the bed and swung his feet down, getting up on shaky legs and backing away. Finn slid himself to the edge of the bed too, but stayed sitting down. He wasn't sure why – he just knew that he should stay where he was and explain himself before trying to calm Kurt down.

"Tonight. Puck went after Karofsky. We've been trying to figure out what the hell he had to do with what happened. I'm sorry Kurt, really, so sorry!" Finn had no idea exactly why he was apologizing; for what happened with Karofsky? For telling Kurt he knew? For anything and everything he'd done and failed to do since knowing Kurt?

Kurt stared at him, breathing disturbingly fast. Was he having a panic attack? Should Finn call for their parents? No, Kurt was calming down a bit, looking a lot confused, but less panicky.

"Finn, you haven't told –"

"Dude, I just found out today," Finn rushed to say. "Puck too, and he came straight here to tell me, and I know he's not going to say anything because we're both freaking out and why didn't you tell anyone?"

Kurt blinked, closed his eyes and let out a loud exhale. "Just . . . give me a second. I'm not very good at handling surprises anymore." Another long exhale. "Okay, so, Puck found out today? How?"

"Karofsky." Finn told Kurt nearly word-for-word what Puck had told him, and by the end of it, Kurt had crossed his arms, almost hugging himself while staring down at his bare feet. Finn was chewing on the inside of his cheek, bouncing his leg – moving, shifting, trying really hard not to demand that Kurt tell him everything, because Kurt didn't need that from him.

"I'm sorry that you two had to find out about this." That was totally not what Finn expected to hear from Kurt. He waited as Kurt lifted a hand to run through his hair, then attempting to smooth it over, still staring down, his brow furrowed like he was thinking really hard or holding back tears; Finn didn't know which it was and that was worrying him. "God, this is . . ."

"Insane. That's what it is." His concern was spiking as Kurt kept on looking as freaked out as Finn felt and then some – was he missing something? "Oh God, did . . ." Finn paused, trying to figure out what he was trying to ask; maybe there was more to this, more to what had happened between Kurt and Karofsky – and that thought made his blood run cold. "Did he do . . . anything else? Like –"

"No, no." Kurt shook his head, and Finn's relief was a loud sigh and warm tingling down his limbs. If he felt murderous before, that would've been nothing in comparison to what he would have felt if there had been . . . Maybe he should stop thinking about it because the urge to try and finish what he started during that riot was pretty damn strong, making his fingers fold and clench into fists – fists that wanted to meet Karofsky's face again. He loosened his hands, lifting them to his face, swiping against his mostly healed black eye.

"You realize that you can not tell anyone about this, right?"

Finn blinked in shock. "Kurt, this is, is . . . You could stop him from hurting you forever. You could –"

"Finn, no. Absolutely not." It looked like he was getting his bearings back because he wasn't shrinking into himself anymore, or allowing himself to mess with his hair. His expression was fierce. "I'm not going to out him. You just don't do things like that to someone who isn't ready. And he isn't. If he's breaking down in front of Puck, like you said, I don't even want to know what would happen if this got out. I will not have something like that on my conscience no matter how big of an asshole he's been to me."

He could try and swallow that, but that still left a few other things he wanted to ask about, like, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I . . . I did, actually." Kurt smiled a little there. "I told Blaine the same day that it happened. He came to try and talk to Karofsky the very next day. It didn't go well. I told dad not soon after, and . . . Mercedes managed to pry it out of me after that. So, you don't need to worry."

"Burt knows?" That was hard to deal with. "He knows and he hasn't tried to kill him yet?"

Kurt's smile widened. "Oh, it was a near thing, let me tell you."

He didn't quite understand how Kurt was getting to be more relaxed about this – he was just getting more freaked out. "But, but . . . Karofsky's gay and he, I don't know, he's crushing on you or something and this feels like it could get seriously messed up – like more messed – really fast. Really bad."

"I've been over this a hundred times in my head, Finn." Kurt leaned against the back of his white couch. "Most of it ends with people either not believing it and accusing me of being desperate for a boyfriend, or behaving like some kind of predatory gay. Or of starting a rumour to get even, perhaps. And if people do believe it, Karofsky gets abused the same way I did, if not worse because he is a jock amongst jackasses. You're right, things could get messed up, but I'm not going to be the one to make it that way. I'm going to Dalton." Kurt's smile faded. "I'll be away, and hopefully that'll be the end."

Finn couldn't agree with that. So many things had been screwed up lately, and this just felt like . . . more. So much more, and it was all left hanging, and damn it, things were always wrapped up and finished on TV shows when crap like this happened. Why did this feel so much like a let down – complicated and without any real ending?

Kurt was standing in front of him, smile officially gone, licking dry lips and staring at him worriedly, like Finn was the one to be worried about here.

"God, I don't get how you can be like this," Finn finally breathed out, laughing a little disbelievingly. "But yeah, okay. I won't say anything, and I'll make sure Puck doesn't start anything either. You, uh, you'll tell someone if something else happens though, right? I get it if you don't wanna tell me. But your dad, for sure. Mercedes, Blaine." He smirked good-naturedly around that last name and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I will, and for future reference, don't hide things from me either, okay? Just because I'm going to be at Dalton soon doesn't mean that I'm in a totally separate universe. This may be jumping the gun, but don't feel like you need to hold back on whatever's happening at McKinley. You won't break me, I promise." Kurt was moving to stand closer, causing Finn to have to stare up at him to meet his eyes. "This applies to stuff pertaining to what's happened to me. Finn, if you want ask about certain things, do it. I don't particularly like talking about it, I want to forget it ever happened, but I would rather you talk to me than freak out and make up scenarios in your head."

Finn felt like he was on the verge of knowing something. It was itching in his mind but – wait, Kurt had tears in his eyes and Finn had no clue how that happened but he was standing up and reaching out with a hand. Kurt took a step back.

"S-sorry, sometimes . . ." He inhaled wetly. "Sometimes things just . . . hit me out of nowhere." He swallowed a few times, cleared his throat, and then Finn saw Kurt Hummel, fabulous and fierce, poke out through the veil of ghost-pale skin and red-rimmed eyes. "I've done my best to avoid thinking about what all this crying is doing to my complexion."

It was a weak joke, and Finn got it. Not the joke – well, he did get the joke, but that wasn't what his brain was currently reeling in sudden shock over.

He got it. He got what Ida saw. The hero-worship.

Kurt, a little damaged, scared, and changed, was still, deep down, Kurt. He'd been beaten and yelled at and so much other crap too, but here he was, telling Finn to come to talk to him if he needed to – cracking jokes about his skin, and shooting Finn small smiles to reassure him.

"Holy crap, dude, you're awesome."

Kurt choked out a nervous laugh. "What?"

Finn stared down at him, feeling a smile stealing across his face. "You're like, a living inspiration person. You know. The ones that you see on Oprah and stuff."

"You watch Oprah?"

"You know what I mean." Finn sailed smoothly right past that (come on, who didn't watch Oprah at least once? . . . Or twice). "You're one of the ones that people want to interview and write articles about how brave and awesome you are because, well, you're brave and awesome."

Kurt just kept looking at him, a little confused, but there was a pink colour to his cheeks. "I don't think anyone's going to be wanting to interview me. At least not for those reasons. But that's . . . I don't quite see what you see, but . . . thank you."

Finn had an urge, but he wasn't sure how Kurt would take it, so he asked, cautiously. "You seem okay with people touching you, right?"

This time Kurt did laugh, full-bodied and real. "Finn, someone needs to teach you about appropriate segues. But yes. I'm surprisingly okay with people touching me. Not all of the time. But it doesn't feel like a big problem."

He nodded. "Cool. So, then, like, it would be okay if I hugged you right now?"

Kurt's eyebrows shot up and his lips parted. "Um . . ." Finn gave him his best smile coupled with his best puppy-eyes, which had the other boy furrowing his brow. "Really? I know Rachel's made you sit through an obscene amount of chick-flicks, but not every emotional or dramatic conversation between two people needs to end with a physical exchange of some –"

"Dude," Finn cut him off, taking one step closer. "You're basically my stepbrother, or soon gonna be, and you're my friend. And you've been through a lot, so I just want to hug you, all right? Hugs show comfort and like . . . I don't know what else, but it feels right for me. Right? Right. So shut up and let me."

A short burst of laughter escaped from Kurt, and when he didn't move away, Finn took that as his cue. He stepped up into Kurt's space and slowly, carefully, put his arms around him.

"I'm not made of fine china, Finn," Kurt said, sounding a little amused.

Finn pulled him closer, his arms tightening around him, and after a second, he felt Kurt's arms come up too, wrapping around his back.

It was nice. Comforting.

Kurt had gotten tall enough that Finn's chin brushed against his hair, against the top of his head, and he wondered if maybe the other boy was still growing. Finn had peaked he thought (hoped), but maybe Kurt was like those guys that got huge in college or something. He snorted at the idea that Kurt might one day be as tall as him – it just wasn't something he could picture.

"What? What is it?" Kurt asked, muffled a bit by Finn's shirt. He tried to pull away but Finn didn't let him get far.

"Nothing." Finn looked down at him. "Just thinking you got tall. Er. I mean, maybe you've got a few more inches to go – wouldn't that be cool?"

Kurt frowned. "I don't know. I'm not looking to become a Frankenteen. And it's easer to hem pants than find them in Gigantor sizes. But perhaps a couple more inches would be . . . cool."

He snorted again because he couldn't get the weird image of a taller Kurt out of his head, and Kurt pulled away even further, half-glaring and then yawning. Finn grinned at that. "I think you're tired."

Kurt's glare was pretty weak, so Finn felt perfectly safe in yanking him close again and ruffling his hair. "Aw, do you want me to tuck you in and sing you a lullaby?"

A sharp finger jabbed into his side, hard, and he flinched away, wincing. "Ow, geez Kurt, that was right where you kicked me!"

"Let it serve as a lesson not to meddle with me when I am sleepy," Kurt said around another yawn. "Can I please go to bed now?"

Finn dropped his arms from around Kurt, grinning sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry. It was okay though, right?"

"Yes, Finn," Kurt said, and it was coupled with a slightly disbelieving smile. "I wish the you of six months ago could see this."

"Uh, I am the me of six months ago," he protested, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true. Too much had happened (most of it within the past week or so), and he'd been thinking earlier on how much he and Puck had changed.

He shook his head, banishing guilt he'd already dealt with, and dark thoughts he didn't need right now. He smiled brightly down at Kurt. "I'll totally hug you anywhere. We could drive over to McKinley before you transfer and I'll hug you in front of the whole football team. Whatever you want."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Not necessary, but thank you. Now can I please go to sleep?"

Finn got in one last hair-ruffle. "Yeah, Kurt, go for it." He laughed as Kurt batted his hands away, making an annoyed sound as he did so.

"You head on back upstairs – I'll . . ." Kurt inhaled deeply, pushing out the air slowly and looking so him, that it lightened something in Finn's chest to see it. "I'll be okay. Thank you, Finn."

"I'm upstairs if you need me," he said easily. "And I'm gonna get you tomorrow, just watch – I'm so down with guy touching now."

"Please don't say it like that," Kurt said, wincing. "Really, it's fine. I believe you." The quick, drowsy smile Kurt gave him had Finn grinning his way up the stairs and resolving to give Kurt a nice dose of brotherly love, in front of the Glee club (plus Blaine and Ida), because he wanted there to be no doubts in Kurt's mind that Finn was going to be his brother throughout all this – an awesome brother (and better friend) that gave hugs, that actually paid attention; one who knew when to stick around (and tickle laughs out of him) and when to go back to his own bed because he'd done all he could.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Finn happily continued to prove his okay-ness with the guy touching by hugging Kurt the next day in front of all their friends, both new and old. There were plenty of jokes and over-the-top 'aww'ing, especially when he refused to let go, even as Kurt threatened his life, his Xbox, and his signed Reds' jersey.

After a couple of minutes, Mercedes and Tina decided to help Kurt out by poking and tickling at Finn. Kurt crowed his revenge, but Sam and Puck ended up coming in on Finn's side and it all quickly ended up in this weird dog pile/group hug on the floor of the living room. Finn thought this kind of stuff only happened on cheesy teen sitcoms, but there he was, half-hugging Kurt, and blowing bits of Brittany's hair from his face.

There was a tense moment when Rachel flipped out about Kurt, worried how he would take all the smothering contact. She yanked an arm out from beneath Sam's leg, reaching for Kurt who was somewhere in the middle, pressed in close to Finn – but Kurt, hair messed up, clothes wrinkled, was actually smiling, grinning even, sitting on top of Puck, wrapped in Mercedes' arms, legs tangled with Brittany's. Finn sighed in relief and matched Kurt's wide smile with his own. He wasn't going to point out the mess that was Kurt's formerly perfect 'do; that would just lead to pain and possibly the death of his Xbox.

It wasn't until Puck started bitching about Kurt not weighing "as little as a fairy should", followed by a loud thump to his shoulder from either Quinn or Mike (or both, Finn couldn't see from his position), that everyone started laughing, including Ida, Artie and Blaine, who were watching from the sidelines.

Finn glanced up from his half-laying down pose just in time to see Ida snap a picture. She blushed when she saw she'd been caught, but Finn just smiled his big smile. "I'm definitely going to want a copy of that. It's so going up on Facebook."

"Copy of what?" Kurt asked, purposefully kneeing Puck in the stomach as he tried to get to his feet while caught in Mercedes' own feet, and awkwardly entangled with Brittany, Sam and now Rachel, who was looking a little worried.

"The picture Ida just took."

To Finn's (and Rachel and Mercedes', he could tell) delight, Kurt hands immediately flew to his hair, whipping around to demand Ida show him that picture, struggling even harder to get up amidst a storm of pained cussing from Puck.

Kurt's rant came to a sudden halt when Blaine appeared in front of him, one hand grabbing Kurt's and pulling up him gently. Finn nudged Rachel, who poked Tina, who winked over at Mike and Mercedes.

Blaine was smiling and teasing Kurt about his hair, and Kurt stopped fussing with it, biting his lip and giving a small smile tentatively back, though it was getting bigger and bigger. Then his expression switched over to surprise when Blaine tugged him into a quick-as-lightning hug, letting go to say, "God, it's so great to see you like this, Kurt. Smiling and . . . I can't even begin to tell you . . ."

"Don't tell him, Curly McGhee – lay one on him, a big, juicy wet one!" Santana called from her reclined position on the floor, leaning back on her elbows to leer up at the now blushing boys.

"Way to ruin the moment, Lopez." Mercedes whipped a pillow at her.

Before any real damage could happen (Santana had thrown the pillow back at Mercedes with a lot of force and Finn could see Artie reaching for a cushion out of the corner of his eye, while Puck was snatching a pillow of his own), Kurt stepped in. "No way, guys, you are not starting this here. The last thing my dad needs is to have this house de-valued because we've demolished the living room."

Mercedes tossed the pillow lightly at Kurt, and he caught it easily, flinging it onto the nearest sofa. "Sam, put on Tron – let's see this marvel of 80s SGI."

Sam practically flew over to his bag to get the movie, and everyone picked their spots on the floor or the couches. The coffee table had been pushed off to the side and behind the loveseat, so they were all able to sprawl (and Artie had an easier time manoeuvring) wherever and whichever way they wanted.

Finn hid a smirk as Mercedes made Rachel switch places with Blaine so that Kurt was sandwiched between them. It was obvious and kind of ridiculous, but everyone was trying so hard to make up for what happened Thursday night.

No one was talking around what happened to Kurt anymore; Finn had heard Artie quietly ask Kurt a few questions about Thursday, Tina had asked Kurt's permission before pulling him into a tight hug when she arrived, and Quinn made Kurt promise to call her if he ever needed to unload like that again – but even with all that, they were careful about what they said around him. The best way Finn could think of describing it was like a tightrope walk. They were walking this fine line, wobbling back and forth between hugely tense moments and totally normal ones. The laughter kept it all balanced, kept them from falling over and having it all go to hell. Again.

While Finn watched everyone watching the movie, it was like this was a movie too, except he could see it and the behind-the-scenes stuff at the same time.

Puck was joking and rolling his eyes, but he got this look on face when he thought no one was looking – Finn knew he wasn't taking the whole 'do nothing to Karofsky' thing well – like he was in pain, and maybe even a little sad, when he glanced over at Kurt. Mercedes was laughing, getting into pointless arguments with Rachel and Santana, and she wasn't nearly as much of a mother hen as she had been the past week, but her hands kept twitching whenever Kurt sighed or cuddled into her side; her eyes would flash brightly and her voice would thicken. Rachel kept sneaking glances at her phone, and that would be normal except that Finn knew everyone she cared about was in this room – except her dads; she was still scared, still jumpy and while her voice was as loud as it ever was, it softened noticeably when she was talking to Kurt. Even Santana's insides were exposed to him; she was cutting and rude, but it was like she was wearing her Tough Bitch personality instead of actually being a Tough Bitch – she couldn't hide the way she chewed on her lip whenever Kurt closed his eyes for a minute or shivered slightly beneath his blankets.

Brittany was the most straightforward one of all. She didn't try and put on a front. She snuggled into Kurt's legs, kept a loose grip on an ankle, treating him like he was a toy she'd thought she'd lost but had now found again; now she wasn't ever letting Kurt out of her sight. Finn knew the envious glances some of the girls were shooting her had to do with the fact that only Brittany could get away with behaviour like that.

The world had shifted under Finn's feet the day Kurt had been wheeled away on a gurney, pale and red all at once. He wasn't sure if it would ever shift back, but in the meantime he was finding his bearings.

He was stumbling and unbalanced, never really knowing what to say or do or feel, but Kurt was alive, Kurt was still smiling, and even if the world remained tilted forever, that would have to be good enough for him.

But maybe it was better if things never shifted back. Finn could see more than he could before, and he knew damn well that changes were needed, not just in the big stuff like lawsuits and zero tolerance policies, but with him, with Puck, with Rachel – with all of them.

Maybe something good could come out of this, because sometimes a shake and a shock were enough to make everyone else tilt too and see things differently. Finn would help make sure of it; he didn't think he would ever amount to much unless he managed a football scholarship, but this, this was something he could do, this was something he could try and fix, and damned if would let all this pain and fear and anger be for nothing.

He nodded to himself and settled down to really watch the movie (and holy crap those bikes are freaking awesome!).

He finally relaxed, feeling a low buzz of happiness ease into him from his comfy position on the couch, with Artie behind him, equally wow-ed by the awesomeness on screen, and Sam spouting out random facts, even with Santana and Tina nudging him into silence. Kurt gave all three of them his best bitch-face and that had Finn swallowing down more laughter.

Things really felt good. Right now, he was watching a really cool virtual bike race with all his best friends, all of them warm and comfy, and he knew his mom had a made a fresh batch of low-fat/sugar cookies for him and Kurt.

Figuring out how to earth-shake-world-tilt people could start tomorrow.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Author's Note: I have no apologies that could ever make up for leaving you people on the hook for so long. We've got at least one more (obscenely long) part to go – I have an idea for another part, but it may have to wait for a sequel or something – I'll let you guys know, since I may require your input :) And this may be my longest Author's Note ever, so bear with me (I promise to never do it again :D).

Thanks:

I want to give a big-shout to these incredible people: Ella Greggs, Prieva, vcg73, Zoxx, The Chocolate Alchemist, AdamPascalFan, starzinyourskye and MorganD. They've helped me so much throughout the course of this with their support, some amazing insights and great advice. Reading (and re-reading) their thoughts on this story very much influenced the emotions and experiences I put Kurt through, and helped me write to the best of my ability in general. I bow to you guys – thanks so much for everything!

Recommendations:

I don't how long it'll be until I next post, but in the meantime, I have some recommended readings for you guys, to help tide you over, if you so need it (all can be found on my favourite's list):

Easier Than Telling the Truth by Ella Greggs is an excellent, EXCELLENT post-NBK fic that has some of the best, most clever insights into Kurt ever. Her characterization is FLAWLESS. It merits endless raptures – it's like having an audio track of his thoughts during Furt since I so hear Chris Colfer's voice while reading – it's THAT perfect.

If you need a little more Klaine, read Days of Summer by LaPenseur. It's a wonderful and wonderfully written Klaine one-shot fic with two parts, and it's deserving of far more praise than it has received – go read and comment and maybe we'll get some more out of her!

Why Blaine Anderson Should Never Be In the Kitchen by Loony4moony816 is full of awesomely un-canon, unconventional pairings, Blaine being utter fail in the kitchen while also being utterly adorable, and it is one of THE best birthday gifts I've ever received.

vcg73 writes stories that make me feel better on some of my worst days ever: if you need a long Kurt romance (and ship Kurt/Happiness), you must read Everything Old is New Again and/or Crush Object. The first is a Kurt/Mike that starts off rather heart-wrenching but slowly builds up to a beautiful love story, and the second is full of cuteness, fluff, some awkward and some seriously BAMF Kurt dealing with someone having a crush on him!

And finally, I've been slowly reading MorganD's fantastic story of Kurt and Finn and their bonding over warm milk, At the End of Each Day. Go, read it: each chapter is a story in and of itself, and the brothers Furt, as she writes them, give me such joy and warm fuzzies!

AND FINALLY, many thanks to any of you who have stuck around (particularly to the end of this obscene Author's Note!)

Comments, favourites, alerts, are all awesome and appreciated. I feel so terrible about the long wait, so it would be lovely to know if some of you are still around, and still interested (and if you're new, say hi, I love to reply back!). Oh, and check your Private Messaging and make sure it's turned on – the website sometimes turns it off randomly, and I can't reply back to you guys if it's off!

If you've made it this far down, I give you cookies, eternal love and rainbows, because you're amazing :D