From this point on in my life nothing is ever going to be the same. Nothing can ever be the same. I don't want anything to ever be the same.

Author Unknown

It was Finn. Scared, traumatized and silent, but it was Finn. I threw my arms around him, pressing close and remembering his feel and his smell and the fact that I was still only as tall as his chest. All those little things that I had started to forget in only four months. He didn't push me away, but he didn't hug me back, nor did he make any effort to snuggle closer. It was like he didn't even realize I was there.

How he had made it across the country, to end up exactly where he had started out, didn't even cross my mind. That was in the past now, and I had no idea what to do with him in the present. Should I call 911? Use the direct line to the police station? Dad and Carole? Take him to the hospital? No one had told me what to do.

Why don't you start by letting him inside? Prada only knows how long he's been sitting out there. Then call your parents. Don't you think that they deserve to know what's happening?

I might hate that voice, but it did serve its purpose when I was panicking. "Come on, let's get you inside."

My hand was still on his back, guiding gently, and, again, he made no effort to resist me. Once we were inside, he heaved out a huge breath and collapsed on the couch, flopping over like a puppet with its strings cut.

Carole's phone went to voice mail, and I had almost given up on Dad when he picked up, sounding tired and grumpy. "No luck yet, Kurt, I'll call you if anything changes."

"I know you didn't find him because I did. Finn's here." I was too shocked to cushion the blow.

"WHAT!" His voice was so loud that not only did I have to hold the phone away from my ear, but Finn startled on the couch, looking around like he expected to see Dad appear out of the woodwork. "KURT ANTHONY, YOU BETTER START EXPLAINING YOURSELF RIGHT NOW!"

Dad very seldom yelled, and it made me nervous when he did. "I don't know! I came over to the house to get a shirt, and he was just sitting there on the steps. He hasn't said anything and I don't know what to do now." My voice cracked, which was a nice complement to my badly trembling hands.

"Is he ok?" He had gotten himself back under control, though I could still hear the strain in his voice. "He's not hurt is he?"

I dropped my voice and stepped away, so Finn couldn't hear me and know that I was talking about him. Why I bothered was questionable, since Finn wasn't even acting like he knew I existed at the moment. "I don't know. He was able to walk, but he isn't talking and he doesn't look like he's slept in days."

"Take him to the hospital right now. Don't let him eat or drink anything, just take him. There are…tests that they need to do on him, and if you give him anything, it could mess up the results. They're going to take his clothes, so pack him something to wear. Carole and I will fly back in tonight. I want you to hang on a minute. She's asleep, but I'm going to wake her up so she can talk to him."

"Ok." I walked back over and lightly touched Finn's shoulder. He broke his staring contest with the blank television to look at me. Well, more accurately, he looked through me. Even though our eyes were aligned, there was no connection there, no recognition. I held out my phone, and, when he failed to take it, pressed the device into his grip. "Your mother is coming."

Nothing in his eyes or face changed, but he held the phone to his ear. I knew that I was pushing the limits with touching him today, but I couldn't keep my hands off of him. For once, it had nothing to do with wanting to caress his muscles (which he still had by the way, he hadn't lost weight wherever he was), and everything to do with the fact that I still couldn't believe that he was actually here. "We need to go to the hospital, and I'm going to pack you a bag."

If I had been Finn, and I had just gotten home after four months, I would have thrown a fit at being asked to leave again, but he didn't even blink. "Ok….I guess I'll just go and do that now."

I pulled my designer luggage, because Finn deserved the best, and started packing. Jeans, a favorite T-shirt, boxer shorts (they were a necessity, it wasn't like I was getting off by pawing through his underwear), socks, his sneakers. Then I thought that they might want to hold him overnight, so I packed him some pajamas. Then I packed all the same things for myself, since Dad and Carole wouldn't be back until tomorrow at the earliest, and someone would need to stay with Finn. Naturally, my things were about a million times more fashionable then his, but I was trying to go with what was familiar to him.

Once I had done that, I drug the suitcase back upstairs, finding Finn exactly where I had left him, phone still pressed to his ear. I waited for a few minutes, but he gave no indication that there was even anyone on the other line anymore, so I reached out and took it back. He made no effort to hang on to it, just let his hand drop back down to his lap. I put the receiver up. "Hello? Carole, are you there?"

"Kurt?" Her voice was barely recognizable through the tears. "Kurt, is he really there? It felt like him, but he wouldn't say anything."

My heart pitched downwards. Even if he wasn't speaking to me, I had been sure that Finn would talk for his mother. "He's really here. I don't know how he got here, but it's him. He's not talking to me either, but he doesn't really look hurt. We're going to the hospital now." As I spoke, I tugged Finn's arm and he rose without protest.

"I'm going to call ahead for you, so everything is ready. Your father already has us packed, and we'll be in on the first flight. Please take care of him, Kurt."

It was an odd feeling, to know that I was being trusted with the most important thing in Carole's world. "I will. I promise, I'll stay with him until you get here."

My phone kept beeping, telling me that I had another call trying to come in, but I ignored it. No one could be as important as Carole right now. It wasn't until I had drug Finn out to the car and tossed the suitcase in the backseat that I realized it had been Mercedes trying to get through to me. In all the excitement, I had forgotten to call her and tell her that I was at the house.

With shaking fingers, I dialed her back. It only rang once before she was on the phone, in full on 'I am woman, hear me roar' mode. "Kurt Hummel, did I not tell you to call me as soon as you got there? Not only did you not call, you didn't answer when I tried to call you! Your privileges are done, mister, do you hear me? Done! As soon as you get back here, you will hand me those keys, and you aren't getting them back until your father gets home. If something had-"

I cut her off. "'Cedes, listen." My voice wasn't loud, but my tone must have gotten through, because she shut up. "I'm on my way to the hospital. With Finn."

"Are you hurt? Why are you on the way to-" Then the rest of what I had said sunk in. "With Finn? He's home?" Her voice had gone incredibly soft.

"He's home. I don't know how, he was just sitting on the steps. It was like he never left. Don't tell anyone, though, ok? He's already scared to death and I don't want everyone camped out at the hospital waiting for him. Just tell everyone that I got sick or something and I went home."

"Of course." She was stunned. "I'll let my parents know what's going on, and you tell Finn how much I love him and I've missed him."

"Mercedes says she missed you." Finn didn't so much as turn his head from where he was staring blankly out the window. "I'll call you when I know something, ok?"

"Ok. Kurt? Take care of Finn, but take care of yourself, too. I love you."

"I love you, too." I hung up and just stared at the phone for a minute before forcing some cheer. "Ok, Cowboy, are you ready to go to the doctor?"

He didn't so much as turn his head, much less answer me. I kept going; more to hear the sound of my voice then because I thought he was going to magically start to speak. "Ok, then, I'll take that as a 'yes, Kurt, I would love for you to take me to the doctor.' I don't know who your regular doctor is, so we're going to the ER instead. I don't know what you and Carole talked about, but they need to do some tests, so we can make sure that you're healthy, alright?"

This time he shrugged very slightly. Or maybe I was reading too much into it, since I so badly wanted him to acknowledge me. He might have just been shifting around to get more comfortable.

"Anyway, Dad and Carole are coming home on the first flight, but they don't' know when that's going to be, so it's just you and me for now. Brothers, just like we talked about, right? Us against everyone?" I was hoping that he would remember our last conversation.

This time he did turn to me, his eyes searching mine. I had no idea what he was looking for. Reassurance? I could do that. Love? No matter what type he wanted, I was capable of that, too. Help? Maybe, but I couldn't know what he needed until he asked me. We were at a red light, so it was easy for me to stare back. Maybe he was reading in my eyes what I couldn't read in his.

Then, ever so slowly, he reached out and laid one hand on my knee. It was a feather light touch, and he didn't speak or even change expression, but it was at least something, and more then I had gotten so far. When I looked down, I noticed that all of his fingernails were either broken raggedly or bitten way down. Wherever Finn had been, it looked like he had been fighting for his life.

I knew better then to act like I had even noticed that, though. So I just put my hand over his. "I agree. Us against the world."

The light changed and my attention went back to the road, but Finn didn't move his hand. It remained there, a tenuous connection, all the way to the hospital. I was afraid that he would refuse to get out of the car once we were there, but I had forgotten that this was Finn we were talking about. He was generally passive about things, and as long as I stayed strong and kept him moving, it should be alright. "Come on."

He wouldn't hold my hand when we walked, even though I offered, but he did walk very closely, his head swinging constantly from side to side as he took in everything that was happening. Before, he would have trotted along, happy with the world and his place in it while rambling on about something that generally made no sense. Now he was tense and hunched in on himself, looking at every person like they were out to do him harm. Somehow Finn had turned into me while he was gone.

Carole had really come through for us, because as soon as I gave the triage nurse Finn's name, we were taken to the back, where four uniformed police officers, plus two doctors were waiting for us. Finn blanched and tried to back up, but just ended up running into me. I put a hand on his back. "Easy."

His muscles were locked under my fingers and I could feel his breathing getting quicker and quicker. If he flipped out and ran right now, we might not catch him, and even if we could, it would just make an already terrible situation even worse. I put my hands on my hips. "There are too many people in this room. Either the doctors stay or the police do, but not both."

They all looked at me like I had lost my mind. One of the police officers that had been to the house multiple times nodded at me. "Kurt, I know this is difficult, but we all need to be here, to make sure that Finn gets the care he needs."

"No, the doctors need to make sure Finn gets the right care. You need to make sure you catch the guy who took him. If it's difficult for us, it's miserable for him." I tried to make myself sound less hysterical, which was hard, since I was about to flip out. But if I freaked, it would leave Finn with no one to speak up for him. "Please. Can't we just go one at a time?"

That, of course, led to a 10 minute debate on whether it was more important to get Finn medically checked out, or take a statement immediately. Finally, it was decided that the police could try and get a statement, since Finn wasn't in any obvious pain or distress, then they would have to leave so the doctors could do what they needed. I didn't like it, but I did understand that Finn's case was incredibly high profile, probably the highest profile that Lima had ever seen, so they were determined to do it by the book. One police officer would remain with Finn at all times, so that he would be protected if the need arose.

I could have told the officers what was going to happen (or not happen, as it would turn out), but they knew that Finn and I were not technically related, nor was I even close to 18, so I was afraid that they would kick me out of the room. Maybe Finn wouldn't care, but maybe he would, and I had promised Carole I would take care of Finn and I was going to stand by that.

"Ok, Finn, I'm Officer Logan and I want to ask you a few questions." Some gentle coaxing had convinced Finn to sit on the exam table, but now he was staring at the floor and refused to look up. "We've all been looking for you for the past 4 months. The Lima police, your parents, your brother. You were even in Newsweek, did you know that?"

Finn was blocking him out as steadily as he had blocked me out earlier. The officer gave me a helpless look and I shrugged at him. Wasn't it his job as a policeman to know how to help Finn?

Isn't it your job as Finn's brother to help him out?

I guessed so. So I leaned over and touched Finn's leg again. "Finn, please. We're just trying to help, here"

When he looked up at me, I was shocked by pain in his eyes. This wasn't temper, this wasn't stubbornness, this was Finn, whether it was from fear or an injury, genuinely not being able to speak. I shook my head at Officer Logan. "I don't think he's going to talk."

"Just five minutes, Finn, that's all I'm asking for. Can you tell me anything about where you've been? Someone took your picture in New Mexico, have you been there the entire time? Did someone make you go with them, or did you go along of your own free will?"

That should have garnered a response, but Finn didn't rise to the bait. He wasn't going to talk, and none of us could force it. We waited the entire five minutes, trying everything from coaxing to demanding to just letting Finn sit in silence. Officer Logan nodded. "Ok, I'm going to let the doctors come back in and look at you. If you think of anything you want to tell us, just let the doctor or your brother know and he'll come get me, ok?"

He stepped out and a doctor stepped in. "Hi, Finn, I'm Dr. Brown. You do go by Finn, right? Not Finnegan?"

Finn hated being called by his given name, and that was enough to make him nod slightly. He didn't raise his eyes, but it was an obvious head movement.

"Ok, Finn, now, does anything hurt? Anything bruised, any tummy aches, headaches?" When that failed to get even the tiniest response, he nodded. "Can you take your sweatshirt off for me? If you have something on under that, take it off too so I can listen to your heart."

My stomach was somewhere around my throat, waiting for Finn to lose it, or at least refuse to strip in front of me, but he did it without complaint. I was nice enough to look down and give him as much privacy as you can give someone when you're stuck in a 6x6 box with them. At least I did until I heard Dr. Brown whistle. "Ouch, that looks like it hurts. What happened to your wrists, Finn?"

I glanced over and instantly wished that I hadn't. Finn's wrists were a mess of bruises, black ones layered over green ones over purple ones. At least four on each wrist, judging by the colors, running all the way around. Dr. Brown took his hands gently and examined the injuries. "Ok, Finn, did somebody grab your wrists, or tie them up, or put handcuffs on you? I need to know, because I have to know how to treat them. Do you think that your wrists might be broken?"

Finn's head shake was a little more obvious this time, so he must be feeling comfortable with this doctor. "Can you rotate them for me?" This time Finn moved without hesitation, turning them smoothly and without any signs of pain. Dr. Brown stroked ran his fingers over each bruise. "I don't see any actual cuts or rawness, and they're very evenly spaced, so my guess would be you've been pulling against handcuffs. Rope would chafe the skin. Am I right?"

Well, there's your answer about why he didn't run, and why he was wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. Can't have him running around in short sleeves with bruises like that, can we?

Finn wouldn't respond to the question, so the doctor moved on to listening to his heart and lungs. "Everything sounds good here, Finn. You have a strong heart and your lungs sound good. How about you hop up on the scale for me."

Finn slid off of the table and climbed onto the scale, never taking his eyes off the floor. Weights were moved and I studied his back in silence. He was incredibly tan, enough so that I suspected that he had been in New Mexico for most of, if not all of, the time he had been missing. Damn, I wished I could tan like that, instead of burning. From what I could see, Finn didn't look too skinny or to heavy. My previous thought had been correct; he looked exactly like he had when he had left us.

So basically, they were tying him up, or handcuffing as the case might be, but they were feeding him. He must have had some value to them, since they did seem to be taking care of at least some of his needs.

If Finn didn't any value to them, they wouldn't have taken him. I was just afraid of what that value might be.

"We have a few more tests to do, but we have to do them in another room, which means your brother can't go with you. There will be a nurse in there, though."

Since Finn had barely acknowledged that I was alive since we had walked in, I was surprised when his head popped up and he seemed upset at leaving. I forced a smile. "It's alright, Finn, I'll be right here."

He didn't look convinced, so I gave the doctor my most charming look, hoping to be invited along. Dr. Brown looked over Finn's shoulder and shook his head. "These are personal tests, that are going to involve you naked, and I'm not guessing you're going to want your brother along. We'll come right back when you're finished, and then we can see about getting you something to eat. We're going to X-ray those wrists, too, just to be on the safe side, so Kurt can't come."

In other words, they were also going to do a rape kit. I had known that, since I had studied everything that could possibly have to do with kidnapping obsessively since Finn disappeared, but we were talking about someone who didn't even know how regular sex worked. He was going to be absolutely terrified when presented with a rectal exam. "Please explain what you're doing, he's scared enough."

"We'll be as gentle and as quick as possible. Finn, are you ready?" I liked that he was addressing Finn directly, even though he wasn't getting much response back.

No verbal response, but Finn did reluctantly follow him from the room, though he continually looked back at me, as if I could do something to help him. I tried to smile encouragingly, and was rewarded with a small smile back.

Once the door had closed and I was sure that Finn wasn't coming back, the shaking started. I had been tough for Finn, tough for Carole, and tough for Dad, but I could no longer be tough for myself. I rested my head in my shaking hands and tried to calm my racing heart. Terrible thoughts began racing around in my head, and I felt powerless to stop them.

I wish I hadn't set Dad up with Carole. Then Finn would have never gone missing, or at least it wouldn't be my problem. I wish I had left Finn alone, then Carole would have made him stay home that last night. I wish that Finn had shown up while Dad and Carole were still here. I wish that Finn hadn't shown back up at all. I wish Finn had died instead of Puck.

None of those things were actually true, but I couldn't stop thinking them. The cruelty of the last two made my breath stop, and I was having trouble starting it again. The room got too bright, and even though I could feel my muscles struggling, it was like trying to breathe through a coffee straw.

I was going to die. I was going to suffocate in a hospital, less then 10 feet from help, because I couldn't summon the breath to call for them. Finn was back, but I was going to end up taking his place.

No you aren't. Hit the emergency button the bed, you moron. You aren't actually dying; you just think that you are. Now do it before you pass out.

I clicked the button, and was gratified to see one of the officers open it within seconds. "Did you need- oh shit." He turned back to the hall and presumably the nurses station. "I need some help immediately."

He came over to my side, kneeling down in front of me. "Kurt! Kurt, I need you to calm down, ok? You're having a panic attack, nothing else is wrong. You're ok, Finn's ok, there's nothing to worry about. Deep breaths, now, just like I'm doing."

How could he say there was nothing wrong when I was actually dying here? I tried to mimic him, and found some of the tightness in my chest loosening. A nurse popped in the door and assessed the situation quickly. "Kurt do you have asthma?"

I managed to shake my head. "Ok, we're just going to get you on the bed and give you a little air. I'm going to put a mask on your face, but it's just a little extra oxygen to help you breath better. It's not going to hurt you. You can close your eyes if it would make you feel better."

My legs gave out when I tried to stand, so the officer lifted me up onto the bed. The mask came down on my face, despite the nurses words; I tried to push it away. But someone was holding it firm and I didn't have the strength to keep going. Why didn't they understand that I was already choking, and pushing something on my face was only making it worse?

After a few minutes (that felt like hours, but I knew that they weren't.) I was able to draw one deep breath, then another. The fuzziness of the room faded, and I was able to see that both the police officer and the nurse were new. The nurse patted my shoulder. "Are you feeling better?"

Not really. Actually, I felt more like I had been run over by a truck, then forced to go to Glee practice, then gone straight to Cheerio's practice until midnight. I shrugged and pushed at the mask again. It bothered me and was probably going to make me break out from the rubbing. It was removed immediately, and I never thought I would be so grateful for the disinfectant-smelling, recirculated hospital air as I was at that moment. The nurse brought me a soda and a lollipop, neither of which I was going to eat. I had already eaten and drunk more then enough empty calories at Rachel's party earlier, thank you very much.

Thinking of Rachel's party made me realize that it was probably still going on. We hadn't even been at the hospital for an hour, and it was only 3 in the afternoon. Everyone but Mercedes thought that Finn was still missing, and even she was still enjoying the pool and the nice weather. I hated to sound like a total bitch, but I was jealous of her. Deep down, I had thought that things would magically get better once we had Finn back, even though everyone had told me that they wouldn't.

The nurse gestured at the unopened sucker. "You need to eat that and take a few sips of the soda. Your body is in mild shock right now and you need to bring your blood sugar back up."

That made sense, but I was feeling ornery (and that probably meant that she was right about the blood sugar thing, damn it), and I shook my head. "It will make me fat."

She laughed. "If you're being argumentative, you must feel better. Since you're obviously a teenager, I'll give you a choice. Either eat the lollipop and drink the soda, or I'll come back with an IV and you can have nice mixture through it. I'll guarantee that there are more calories in that then the little bitty sucker."

I hated needles, so I reluctantly peeled of the wrapper and put the sucker in my mouth, crunching through it as quickly as I could. About the time I was done, Finn reentered with Officer Logan, wearing a hospital gown and looking like he wanted to die of embarrassment. His eyes narrowed when he saw me on the bed and he made a few gestures around his face. I raised a questioning eyebrow and he mimicked crying. I shook my head at him. "I wasn't. I just got dizzy and needed to lie down for a bit. You can have your bed back."

He came a little closer with an odd, halting, gait, and ran one finger up my cheek. I jumped, because I couldn't remember the last time Finn had touched my bare skin, other then when he had to, like in Glee or when he needed to help me with something at home. He extended his hand back to me, and I could clearly see the wetness there. "I guess I had a little panic attack." I tried to keep my voice light, so I wouldn't upset him. He didn't need the extra stress right now.

Neither do you. Carole and your father won't be getting here until tomorrow morning at the earliest, so the pair of you are on your own until then. He's scared, but he's not stupid. Well, he's not stupider. It's alright to lean on him a little.

Finn's head cocked and he patted my shoulder. Before turning and sitting in the chair, still using that strange walk. "Did you hurt your leg? You weren't limping before."

He flushed darkly and glared at the Officer Logan. Since Finn was still pulling his 'silent as the grave' act, I looked to the officer for help. He sighed. "They took all of Finn's clothes for testing, including his underwear. Add in the fact that the hospital gowns are not really designed for someone his size and I think he's afraid of flashing something inappropriate. Don't worry, Finn, no one in this room wants to see that."

Kurt does.

No I didn't. I was Finn's brother now, that was it. I was over my feelings for him, I had to be.

You don't pick who you love. Unfortunatly.

Yeah, I knew that. But, no matter what my feelings were, and I was getting more confused about that by the second, Finn needed me to be a brother now. After all, look where flirting with him had gotten me last time.

Finally, he gets it. Now, what are you going to do with this brand new information?

Right at the moment, I was going to do nothing. Finn was showing a problem that I could actually do something about. "Does he have to wear it? Because I thought this might happen, so I packed some extra clothes and pajamas. Can we go home tonight?"

"No. Finn doesn't need to stay medically, but we can't let him go until his mother actually signs for him to be released. It's really bending the rules to have you here at all, since you're underaged and not technically family. So, unless your parents can bend time to get here faster, Finn will be spending the night. If you would like to go home, Kurt, one of my deputies will take you."

I looked over at Finn. "Finn, do you want me to go home? Because I can stay if you would like me to."

He just looked at me without making a single gesture. Our face off lasted about ten seconds, then he put out his hands, palms up. I wished he would just say something, anything. If he wanted to curse and scream and tell everyone that I was gay and had an inappropriate crush on him, it would still be better then his eerie silence. "Yes or no, Finn, it's not rocket science." I was tired and not feeling well and my irritation was starting to show.

"You might need to phrase it better." The nurse had brought in a tray of food while we were being told that we needed to stay the night, and had stayed to listen.

"Pardon?" Now I was being full on bitchy, but she didn't say anything.

"Well, first you asked 'do you want me to go home?' Nodding his head would say, 'yes, I want you to go home.'. Then you said 'I can stay if you like.' Now nodding tells you to stay. I don't think he knows which questions he's supposed to be answering."

Good point. I looked Finn in the eyes. "Would you like me to stay tonight?"

This time his nod was very plain, and I saw him mouth the word 'yes', even though no actual sound escaped. Progress, though. "Then I'll stay. I wasn't exactly sure what to pack you, but there are clothes in there for both of us."

The minute Finn opened the suitcase and saw his own clothing, the entire day became worth it. His smile could have lit the sun as he picked up a white T-shirt with Scooby-Doo on it; one that I had seen him wear often enough to know that it was a favorite. He took it and the pajama pants into the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later, walking normally and looking like himself again. Thank Prada, because that hideous gown managed to not only wash out his skin, which was quite an accomplishment considering how tan he was, but actually gave him a sickly cast. I gave him my most winning smile. "You look like you again."

He nodded happily. It seemed that with every minute that passed, Finn was getting more comfortable with what was happening. Hopefully he would be talking by later tonight, but, if not, he would certainly do it for his mother tomorrow morning.

I climbed off the bed so he could get into it and eat his dinner. So far, he had treated me like he usually did, like I was his little brother (even though I was two months older, but that was a bitch for another time.). It was like the last few weeks had been erased in his mind, and I was a safe person to him again.

I wouldn't bet on it. He's attached himself to you right now, not because he trusts you, but because you're familiar to him. He would have been just as enthusiastic about Rachel, or Mr. Shue, or even Puck.

Puck. For all of our speculation about what had actually happened the night Puck died and Finn disappeared, nobody actually knew but Puck, Finn, and whoever had taken him. Did Finn even know that his best friend was dead? Dad seemed to think that he did, and that that was how Finn had been convinced to go along with the kidnapping, but I wasn't sure. One thing was certain: I wasn't going to be the one to bring it up.

Finn inhaled the food like he hadn't been fed in days; even eating the parsley that I was pretty sure was supposed to be a decoration. Honestly, I was surprised that he didn't try and lick the plate. I didn't want to bring up his atrocious table manners, since a) I had no idea when he had last eaten, but it had to have at least since this morning and b) I didn't want to mess things up between us. So I turned the other way and mildly asked if he wanted me to try and get something else. He shook his head, but lightly touched his mouth with his fingers, looking pathetic. I watched the gesture several times before venturing a guess. "You aren't hungry, but you are thirsty?"

I didn't even have to wait for the nod, because that stupid voice was chattering away again. No, Kurt, he's just fine. So far he's gotten a little Dixie cup of water with his meal, which he gulped, and nothing else because they needed to do an oral swab for the rape kit. I'm sure sitting out in the 85 degree heat in a black hoodie didn't make him thirsty or anything.

"Do you want a soda? I could get you one from the hall machine." Soda was comfort food, right? At least for Finn.

He shook his head and pointed first at me, then the chair. I huffed. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you would just tell me what you needed."

The smile faded and now he just looked sad. I tried to salvage the situation. "Or we could play charades. I guess it's better then watching Jerry Springer or the Jesus channel. Ok, show me again."

He plainly gestured to me, then the chair, then held out both hands, palms down and pushed them downwards. Nothing about what he was doing suggested thirst so I tried puzzling it out. "You want me, and the chair…sitting down? You're thirsty, but you would rather I stay here then go out in the hall and get you a drink?"

Thumbs-up. "Would you like me to ask the police officer right outside the door to get you one then?"

That was acceptable, so I fished around for some quarters, explaining to the cop that Finn would like a drink. He waved off my offer to pay and brought two Cokes, one for each of us. I accepted mine, but figured I would let Finn have it once he finished his.

Except Finn only drank about half of it before settling down and turning on the television. Whether they had given him something or he was just exhausted, his eyes were starting to flutter closed. I didn't begrudge him the sleep, especially since I was feeling tired myself. I had never realized how bad a panic attack could be, and I cringed to think about what it had done to my metabolism and skin, but I was afraid to sleep until Finn did, afraid that no one else would play the guessing game with him and he wouldn't get what he needed, afraid that he would feel abandoned if I wasn't right there and awake, just generally afraid. I was good at putting on a brave face and getting through it, but I really wanted Dad and Carole to get here.

Luckily, it didn't take long for Finn's eyes to close completely and his breathing to even out. I waited a few minutes, just to be sure he was really asleep, then rose and hung the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the front of the door. Then I stretched out in the convertible chair, thankful, for once, for my small size that let me be at least semi comfortable. I didn't usually nap during the day, so I didn't figure I would sleep long, just enough to recharge myself after everything that had happened.

I fell asleep quickly, but was woken a few minutes later when someone leaned over me. I opened my eyes just enough so that I could peek through my lashes, and was surprised to see Finn. Apparently he hadn't been asleep after all. He was holding the blanket off the bed with one hand and one of the pillows in the other. Moving with a quiet grace I would have never attributed to him in a million years, he draped the blanket over me and angled the pillow so that my head was supported. He was extremely careful not to touch me in any way, just moved the blanket until I was covered. Then he climbed back into his bed and curled up.

Either he was really asleep this time, or he had learned to play possum really well, because he didn't react when a nurse entered the room and quietly checked both of us. I didn't react either, because I just didn't have the energy to try and fake a nice conversation.

She made a note on Finn's chart, then left. Unfortunately, she didn't close the door all the way, which left me in an excellent position to eavesdrop on the conversation between her and the police officer that had gotten us the drinks. She was sounded exhausted when she asked. "Where are the parents for these boys? I have one who's been abused and won't talk, and one who had a panic attack for no reason. This is a hospital, not a holding pen for strays. They need their mother."

"The parents are flying in from New Mexico as we speak. They love the boys very much, and its killing them not to be here right now. Just leave them alone for now. If they need anything, one of us guys from the department will take care of it." His voice was calm and I wondered if he had kids of his own. Then he sighed deeply. "The rape kit was positive then? Poor little thing."

My stomach rolled. Rape happened, I knew it did, but I never thought it would happen to someone I knew, much less someone I loved. Much less Finn, who, despite his shortcomings (and there were lots of them), quite possibly had the biggest heart and gentlest nature in the entire world. This was going to destroy him.

"The rape kit was technically negative. No semen present, no scarring or tears, no signs of STI's, though we won't know for sure until the blood tests come back. It was more his behavior during the exam. I really thought we were going to have to sensitize to stop him from hurting himself during the exam, he was so freaked out. Shaking, jerking around, it all started when we tried to get his clothes off so they could be sent for testing. Not a sound from him, though, even though his throats ok. No bruising, no swelling, his vocal cords seem fine. He's under a mild sedative now, which is helping him rest, so don't be surprised if he stays asleep for a few hours."

The officer, whose name I should really learn, because he was being so kind of Finn and I, was quiet for a few minutes, then spoke. "Isn't that normal, though? I mean, we have a presumably straight kid who Mom and the brother both swear is still a virgin, so he's not used to having anyone touch him like that. Then someone basically comes in and says 'here you go, I'm going to shove one giant Q-tip down your throat and the other up your butt'. I would have been freaking out, too."

"Normal to a degree. Lord knows I've had enough grown men have panic attacks from just a prostate exam. But this was different. The kid was really fighting for his life. Then, as soon as the doctor came in and touched him, we had a total shut down. He just stood there and let us do whatever we wanted to him. He as still so tense he was shaking, but he didn't even wiggle."

"Too scared to fight back."

"Or he's learned that it doesn't matter if he does or not, because he can't win. Even if everything comes back negative, and the physical findings say nothing happened, something did. The only way we're going to know for sure is if Finn tells us, and, right now, I don't think he can. Maybe once he settles back in and has his parents around he'll do better."

I noticed that the officer didn't make any attempt to correct her when she referred to Carole and Dad as our parents. Maybe he didn't know, or maybe he just didn't want to air the Hudson/Hummel dirty laundry in front of the world, but I was surprised as how ok I was with it. Carole wasn't Mom, but maybe she didn't have to be. Maybe it was alright for her just to be Carole, as long as Finn was willing to share her. "Hey, Finn?" I kept my voice low, so as not to wake him if he was sleeping.

He turned to look at me, and I realized that he could hear everything being discussed in the hall as well. I wasn't sure if I should say something about it, though, or what to say if I was supposed to, so I went in the other direction and whispered. "I'm really glad you're home."

He lightly touched his chest, then raised his pointer and middle finger in a peace sign and held it out to me. I had no trouble reading that meaning.

Me, too.