The touch of your hand lets me know that you need me
There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me
The touch of you hand says you'll catch me,
If ever I fall.
You say it best, when you say nothing at all
Allison Krauss 'When You Say Nothing at All'
By some strange, unspoken agreement, Finn and I didn't talk about what had happened in the basement that night. Not to each other, and certainly not to our respective parents. He may have said something to his therapist, but I didn't think so. It was a secret between us, and Finn could keep a secret like no one I had eve seen.
Finn didn't go back to being depressed at all. He had become someone new, someone who wasn't the boy he had been before he was kidnapped, or the shade that had been haunting us since he had come back. He still sought out my company, but he wasn't as needy as he was before. I was getting the impression that he wanted me around now because he actually liked me, rather then because he thought I was the only thing keeping him from total mental collapse.
There was a small part of me that was surprisingly disturbed by that. It had been nice to be so tangibly important to someone, to know that I was special to them in a way that no one else was.
That is beyond sick. You really want Finn screwed up and mute, just so you can feel better about yourself? Maybe you seeing that therapist isn't such a bad idea after all.
Thank you, but I felt guilty enough already. Besides, that was the sort of thought that I wasn't going to admit to anyone, except, apparently, voice in my head. But she knew everything that I did, so it was alright.
Since Finn was doing so much better in general, we (and by we, I mean Dad and Carole) decided that it was time to take the next step in improving his relationship with Dad. So, when Finn came upstairs for breakfast the next morning, he found out that the snack cabinet now had a lock on it and Dad was holding the only key.
He had been furious. No, that was too light a word. Enraged would have fit better. He still didn't speak, of course, but he lit off into an amazing variety of gestures, quite a few of which involved his middle finger, and the rest of which I was pretty sure weren't found in any sign language book. Dad had held firm, though, calmly informing Finn that he could throw all the tantrums he wanted, but that he knew the rules, and he would get his snacks when he made the effort to ask for them.
Finn sulked for three days, before deciding to try a different tactic. He went to Carole instead, tears in his eyes and snuggled close, pleading for his Doritos and coke with barely moving hands. She held him, and sympathized with him, but he didn't get what he wanted. Carole was as stubborn as Finn was, and she told him that there was plenty of fruit and veggies in the fridge if he was hungry, or he could wait for dinner, but he only got snacks from Dad.
Once he determined that his mother was useless, Finn decided to try me. He cornered me in the basement, and, using perfect signs (he must have been studying that book religiously while I was doing my two hour face routines, because he was excellent at it. Honestly, if the boy put that much effort into anything else…) and promised me everything but the moon.
"No, Finn. Our parents and Samantha said that it has to be like that, and I didn't get a say."
He thought carefully and tried again. I'll work hard at school.
He meant the schoolwork from last year that he was desperately trying to finish so he could pass his sophomore year and start as a junior in September. "You already work hard." The sad thing was, he really did. I'm pretty sure that he didn't want the stigma of being held back a grade in addition to everything else that had happened.
I'll… He stopped there, because there was really nothing for him to promise me. Please. Please, Kurt.
The pure misery in his eyes would have been enough to break me, but there was no way I could help him. "I'm sorry; Finn, but I don't have the key. Dad has it, and it's on his key ring, so I can't even sneak it for you. I can cut up what's in the fridge and make you a fruit cup, but that's it."
He gave me a look that I chose to interpret as 'thanks for trying, Kurt, but I really wanted my Doritos.' It could have just as easily meant 'God, Kurt, can't you do anything right?', but I was trying to be more positive these days.
Finn lasted an entire six days before he finally broke and asked Dad for his snacks. He came into the kitchen one evening, his body tense and his fists clenched. I watched him from my position at the counter, torn between helping him and letting him do it on his own.
Dad waited for three uncomfortable minutes, then offered his help. "Finn, do you want something?" He stayed seated, so he wasn't looming up in Finn's face.
After what seemed like an eternity, Finn pointed at the locked cabinet, then signed please.
"Sure." He rose and unlocked the cabinet. "What do you want?"
By the time it was over, Finn had conned a bag of popcorn, a coke and three popsicles. He did sign the appropriate thanks, but his eyes made it pretty clear that he hoped Dad choked on his evening coffee.
Since I knew that there was no way he was going to eat his bounty in front of Dad, I told Finn that it was fine for him to take the food down to our shared bedroom. I wasn't a fan on it, except in extenuating circumstances, especially since Finn couldn't always be counted on to remember to take the dishes upstairs, but I was willing to let it go this time.
Once he was gone, Dad gave me a shaky nod. "See, things will be alright."
"Of course they will." I wasn't sure if I should be proud of how steady my voice was, or ashamed of how well I had learned to lie to Dad. "Finn's doing great. He's sleeping better and he's communicating more. He'll probably be talking really soon."
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Kurt, Finn's- back! How are you doing, Finn?"
Well, now I know where I got my inability to lie from. It was obvious from Dad's face that we had been talking about Finn, so obvious that even Finn got it. He pointed at the cabinet and signed please for a second time.
"Did you already eat what I gave you?" Dad was torn between giving Finn what he wanted, like he had been told to, and telling him that he had had enough soda and snacks for it being a half hour to bedtime.
Finn just stared at him, quiet and unmoving. I could tell that Dad was regretting it even as he rose, but he went through the same routine of bringing things out and asking Finn what it was he wanted. This time Finn got a bowl of ice cream, the remainder of the Doritos and a handful of Oreos as well as an additional soda. Just looking at it made my stomach churn unpleasantly.
Dad watched him go. "What am I supposed to do if he comes back again?"
How about acting like the parent and telling him he can't have any more this close to bedtime? Of course, it's Kurt that's going to end up sitting up with him when he goes into a sugar craze and can't sleep. That will probably ruin the progress you've made so far. No good options here, Mr. Hummel
I told the voice to shut up and shrugged, pushing the remainder of my orange away. "Let him have whatever he wants. Mother Nature has a way of settling these scores on her own."
Finn returned twice more to beg for food, and I was starting to think that he was going to gorge himself until we ran out. By the last time, he was white as a sheet, and I realized that he was actually eating everything Dad sent, instead of hiding most of it in the basement for later like I had previously suspected.
Dad noticed, too, and he shook his head at Finn's latest request. "Absolutely not. It's almost 11 at night, and you've had more then enough. Your mother isn't going shopping until next week, so if you eat everything in here tonight, you'll have nothing until then."
Finn must have been feeling lousy already, because he didn't fight. He just scowled and gestured to me that he was going to bed. He ambled up the stairs to kiss his mother goodnight and went into the basement. Dad whistled softly. "He is going to be so sick."
"Yeah." I really didn't want to be around for the pukefest that I was sure was about to happen, but the couch was hell on my back and I wasn't about to let Finn drive me from my own bed.
"Do you think I should get Carole for him? She's not feeling well, but neither is he and-"
"No. Finn's gotten himself in trouble and he can deal with the consequences. I'll make sure that he's alright, I promise."
"Ok. You have a good night." He slapped my shoulder, which was the Dad version of a hug and always wrinkled my clothes. I was going to have to have a talk with Carole about teaching him how to give a hug, or at least be more gentle.
"You, too." I steeled myself and went downstairs.
The overhead light was off, but there was enough combined light from the partially open bathroom door and the nightlight in the corner for me to see Finn clearly. He was huddled on top of the sheets, his arms wrapped around his stomach and his eyes clenched shut. I pressed a hand to his clammy forehead. "Not feeling so great?"
His head shook once. "Ok, let me see what I can do." There was some Pepto-Bismol in the bathroom, and I measured out a dose and a half for him. I came back and patted his cheek. "Here you go. This might be enough to settle your stomach, but I think you're going to be in for a miserable night."
Finn was surprisingly trusting with me, not even opening his eyes when I pressed the measuring spoon to his lips. He swallowed and rolled onto his side, still paler then I had ever seen him. "Try to rest, ok?"
Unfortunately, my earlier suspicions were proven correct about a half hour later, when Finn shot to his feet and lurched into the bathroom. I didn't get up, even when I heard him start retching, because I wasn't sure whether or not I would be welcome.
Except it went on and on and even though I didn't like being anywhere near bodily fluids, I had to admit that I owed him one, big time. After all, the day I had come to school trashed and barfed all over Ms. Pillsbury's shoes, it had been Finn who guided me into the boys bathroom and lifted me up to sit the edge of the sink because I was too drunk to take care of myself. He had cleaned the worst of the mess off of my shirt, and wiped my face off with a damp paper towel. He had also been nice enough not to mention the fact that I was so sick and miserable that I was crying. It was that moment, more then any other, had cemented my crush on him for all eternity.
By the time I got into the bathroom, Finn was dry heaving into the bowl, his body trembling violently. I flushed for him, rubbing his tense back. "It's ok, you'll be alright."
He gratefully accepted the cup of water I held out to him, rinsing out his mouth and taking a few sips. I waited until I was sure that the water was going to stay down, then helped him to his feet. I stood next to him while he brushed his teeth, looking like he might pitch forward at any minute.
Finn was shivering now, the cold sweat drying on his body. "Come on, bedtime." I put a hand on his back to guide him to bed, then tucked the blankets around him and put a damp cloth on his forehead.
Considering the sheer amount of crap Finn had consumed, I was pretty sure that this wasn't going to be the only time he got sick tonight. So I fished a bucket out from under the sink and put it next to his bed. "Finn?"
One eye cracked open, bloodshot and tired. "I'm putting this here in case you get sick again and can't make it to the bathroom in time. If you can possibly make it, do so, because I do not want to clean up your mess." I stopped short of telling him that he had brought this on himself, even though it was true. It had been true when I had done it as well, but I knew about not wanting to hear it.
He raised a hand and quirked it in a 'come here' gesture. I leaned down closer, wondering if he would finally whisper something to me. "What?"
The hand curled around the back of my neck, pulling my face down to his. With a barely there movement, he pressed his lips once to my cheek. Then he made a sign that I thought I should have recognized, holding up his hand and curling his ring and middle fingers down to his palm, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it what it meant. His eyes closed again, and he settled on his side.
I all but floated back to my bed, my fingers against the spot where he had kissed me. Finn Hudson had kissed me. Finn Hudson had kissed me. Finn Hudson had kissed me. No matter how I thought it, it was completely unbelievable. Still, I could go for years off of that one, single moment.
I wouldn't be so excited about a kiss on the cheek. Well, no, I would, but only if the guy was actually gay. In this case, I would just be glad that he brushed his teeth after he barfed.
That voice insisted on ruining every good moment that I ever had. For the moment, at least, Finn was breathing quietly and evenly, apparently exhausted enough to fall asleep. Now if I could only get my overexcited brain to do the same.
I don't think your brain is the only thing that's overexcited. Seems to me that you have a rather…should we call it a 'difficult' problem that needs some attention? No, not difficult. Let's call it a 'hard' problem. You should really do something about that. You never know, it met help you go to sleep.
That was disgusting. Not only that the voice would suggest that I jerk off with Finn sleeping in a bed less then six feet away, but that it would draw attention to my problem at all. I whispered to it in the dark. "You're sick."
There was no reply to that, and I fell half asleep myself. Without doing anything inappropriate to myself, thank you. I half heard Finn get up twice more and throw up, but I never really woke up enough to get out of bed and help him. Finally he started to snore, and I figured that the worst was over, allowing my body to fully relax for the first time.
As I tottered on the edge of sleep, it all pulled together for me. I knew exactly what Finn had been signing to me, and I couldn't believe how long it had taken me to figure it out. Middle and ring finger curled down, palm out, the other two fingers and thumb raised. I love you. Finn had been telling me that he loved me.
Oh, my Gaga.
Finn was still asleep when I woke up the next morning, no doubt worn out by getting up and down all night, but his color looked good and he seemed to be peaceful, so I left him alone. He would have to wake up eventually, and then we could have a talk (well, I could talk and he could listen) about what he had meant. Did he love me like a brother? Like a caretaker, like a….a boyfriend? The last one nearly made me lose my breath.
What did I just tell you about getting too excited about things? Take a deep breath and try not to get upset, no matter what Finn tells you.
If he told me anything at all. Finn is surprisingly good at playing coy, looking down and making little hand gestures that told me exactly nothing. It wasn't a new tactic either, except, Before, when he could still talk; he just acted too dumb to understand the question. That way he didn't have to answer anything he didn't want to, but he wasn't being rude about it. I, personally, would have told more then one person to go screw themselves, but Finn has a real fear of confrontation. That wasn't new either.
Dad had already left for work, but Carole was in the kitchen, doing the crossword puzzle. "Good morning, Kurt, did you sleep alright?"
Her arm rose automatically as she spoke, and I slipped underneath it. "Yeah, I slept fine."
"How did Finn do? Did he end up getting sick?"
Apparently Dad had told her everything. "A few times, but he's sleeping right now."
"He's as stubborn as Christopher ever was. What are your plans for today?"
I wouldn't admit it, but I really liked that she cared so much about me and what I was doing. "None. Mercedes and Tina are going to the movies, but their seeing something that's a little chick flicky, even for me. I thought I'd just hang around here, today, maybe have a fun spa day all by myself." Suddenly my stomach thrilled. "Or you and I could do it! I need to get you some nice sundresses, and you need a new palette of make-up for the summer! We haven't done anything this summer, because of everything that happened, but we usually have barbeques with some of the guys from the garage, and you would be so beautiful in red."
Her arm tightened around me. "Oh, Honey, I have to go to work at one today. But how about on Wednesday? You and I can make a day of it, go to the mall, go out to dinner, the whole nine yards."
I could feel a huge smile spreading over my face. "Really? Just you and I?"
She nodded. "Just us."
"What about Finn?" As much as I wanted to be able to go somewhere with Carole, just the two of us, I had to think of Finn, too.
"Call your teacher and see if he would like some company. If not, I'm sure Finn will be alright for a day, especially since your father has to work all day. We'll figure something out if you really want to go."
She had just chosen me over Finn. Even if it only happened this one time, Carole had put my happiness above his. I did mean something to her, something important. I pressed my face into her shoulder. "I love you." The words popped out before I could stop them.
"I love you, too." Her fingers stroked my hair, so lightly that I barely even felt it.
I ducked out from underneath her, and smiled. "I'm still having my spa day, so. I'll be downstairs soaking in the tub if you need me."
It took a few minutes for me to gather the scented candles and large glass of ice water with a bendy straw. Carole watched me with an amused expression, one that was similar to, but not exactly like the one she gave Finn. It meant that she loved me and she was proud of me being exactly who I was.
Finn was still crashed out, though he had rolled over onto his side. I didn't think that the sound of water running into the tub would bother him, but it was now nearly 10and I wasn't going to feel too terrible if it did. He had had almost 12 hours of sleep at this point anyway.
Liar.
I poured some bath salts and bubble bath into the water and lit the candles, turning the bathroom in to a sweet smelling paradise. A quick peek out the door confirmed that he was undisturbed and still sleeping peacefully. I left the door open exactly five inches, because Finn's claustrophobia hadn't lessened in the slightest and he would flip out if he found the door shut with someone inside of the room.
The tension seeped from my body as I soaked in the hot bathtub, clutching a well worn copy of Wicked in one hand and taking sips of my ice water. This was the life.
I stayed in the bathroom for well over two hours, soaking and scrubbing and putting on two different face masks. Hey, it took a lot of work to look this good. By the time I came out, wrapped up in a brand new bathrobe (thank you, Carole), Finn was gone.
A part of me was surprised that he hadn't at least peeked in the bathroom to see where I was, but the larger part acknowledged that Finn probably both wanted to give me some privacy and was afraid of what he might see. The bubbles would have kept my nakedness covered, but he had no way of knowing that.
He wasn't upstairs in the kitchen, nor was he watching television. Where had Finn gone?
I finally tracked both him and Carole out to the backyard, both working in the garden. Carole and Finn had always had small garden at their house, and she had insisted on putting on in at ours, because she was so sure that Finn would be home soon to help out with it. Neither Dad nor I had believed that Finn would be back, but it had helped her to have something to do. I had insisted that it be an organic garden, and she and I worked together to plant it, and fertilize it, and start collecting the berries and veggies that grew in it.
Watching them gather up cucumbers and beans, I felt jealousy building in my chest. Even though I didn't care for dirt and mess in general, I had to admit that I had really liked being able to see our food grow from a seed to our dinner table. Carole had laughed at my squeamishness and told me to think of it as a mud mask, one of the few times that she had been in such a good mood since Finn went missing. There was a part of me that didn't want to see her having fun like that with anyone else, even Finn.
Carole saw me standing there and waved me over. "Kurt, come on and help us! I think we'll have enough tomatoes and carrots to make a fresh salad for dinner."
I hope that makes you feel bad. She has enough love to go around, enough for a dozen kids. Just because Finn's back, it doesn't mean that she doesn't need or love you any more.
Finn, by the way, was taking advantage of his mother's distraction to systematically strip and eat the strawberries in the next row over. "No, I just got out of the bathtub and I don't want to get all dirty again. What are we having for dinner?"
"Beer can chicken." It was a meal that the entire family liked. "I'm only working a few hours, so I'll be home in time to make it for you. Do you think that you and Finn can wash these off for me, though?"
Sometimes I still didn't like Carole taking over things like cooking and cleaning, which were my jobs, but I was getting used to it. It was cool to have the extra time to practice the piano or work on my Glee stuff. "Of course. Can't we, Finn?"
His head popped up and he nodded enthusiastically. Carole smiled. "If Finn left any strawberries, we can have those, too. If not, you have blackberry bushes on the edge of the property. Come on, Finn, we have enough now."
He grabbed the basket, making a quick 'after you' gesture at her. She smiled at him, the look so gentle and maternal that I felt jealousy twist my insides again.
She kept talking as she led up back inside. "Finn, you need to finish with your Biology and your math homework before I get home. Do it right, because I will be checking it over. If you have problems, either look it up or ask Kurt. Kurt, I have some laundry going, do you think you can switch the loads over for me?"
I nodded and she kept going. "Thank you. Now, I need a shower before I go in. Did you leave me any hot water?"
"Um, maybe a little." Even though we had been a family of three for over six months, and a family of four for two, I still sometimes forgot that I had to think before doing things like running out the entire tank of hot water.
"Keep an eye on that, please. Finn, homework. Burt left you a Coke in the fridge if you want it, but it's the only soda you get today."
That was more then enough to please Finn, who patted me quickly on the shoulder in greeting and ambled back down to the basement, where all of the textbooks Carole had conned out of Figgins were located. I would give him an hour to read over his daily assignment, then go over it with him. It actually worked out well for both of us. Finn learned best when we worked together and I got to review the concepts in preparation for next year. Not that Finn and I were taking the same level of classes, but reviewing the basics never hurt.
I made myself a small salad and an orange for lunch and sat down at the counter to eat in peace. A few minutes passed, and Finn appeared, clutching his textbooks. I smiled at him so he would know that he was welcome. "Need help?"
He shook his head and settled next to me. "Just lonely?"
Finn gave me a quick grin and snatched two pieces of my orange. I swatted for his hand, but he can be surprisingly quick when he feels like it. "Finn, as pleased as I am to see you trying to eat something with actual nutritional value, that orange was mine. If you want an orange, I would be glad to cut one up for you."
His fingers flickered at me. No baby. He stood up and retrieved his own two oranges, as well as the Coke from the fridge. My chest tightened when I saw him using the knife, but he managed it smoothly. Maybe he had a legitimate complaint about the babying, considering that he was 17 years old, not 7.
Once he had easily peeled and separated the oranges into a bowl, he removed two segments and offered them back to me. "You're a paragon of fairness."
He didn't respond to that, probably because he didn't understand it. Instead he chose to open his books and sit with me while I ate. I offered to make him lunch, but he shook his head. Maybe last night had taught him a lesson about overindulging.
Please. Last night wasn't about overindulging and you know it. It was about power, and him proving to your father who had it.
That was true. The fight over food could have been a fight over car keys, or a girlfriend, or any number of other things. Basically, it was the only way Finn had left to tell Dad to go fuck himself.
Carole came rushing down the stairs, running late to work, as always. She never failed to stop and kiss us both though, no matter how late she was. "Bye boys, have fun!"
Finn sighed a little when she left, his eyes following her, but he didn't panic. It's taken almost a month, but Finn seems to have settled in his own mind that we will always come back when we say we will. I looked over at him, and suddenly realized what had been bothering me about him for the past few days. "Finn, do you know what you need?"
He didn't look up from his textbook, but his head canted slightly in my direction. I took that as a question and continued on. "You need a haircut."
He really, really, did. His hair had been kind of long when he got back, since I'm sure keeping his hair neat wasn't high on his kidnappers to do list, and it hadn't been cut since. Now it was well down over his ears, which might have looked alright, had his hair been as straight as mine, but it wasn't. Finn's hair didn't curl so much as it shot up in cowlicks and hair horns that were next to impossible to smooth down. Some men could pull of the freshly fucked and just rolled out of bed look, but Finn wasn't one of them.
Now he was looking at me curiously. "Come on, I can do it. I do my dad's hair."
B-U-R-T B-A-L-D. Finn wasn't as easy to fool as he had been in the past.
"Ok, you have me there. But I cut your mother's hair and you have to admit that it looks fantastic. Took 20 years off right there." He still looked unsure, but I could tell that he was weakening. His bangs had grown down into his eyes, and I knew that it bothered him to be constantly pushing them back. Not everyone can master a full on diva flip like I had. "I'll make it look just like it did before, if that's what you want." I had the clippers and it wouldn't be that hard.
He finally nodded. "Great. You finish up here, and I'll go get the clippers out of the upstairs bathroom. We'll do it downstairs, where the light is better."
My fingers were all but itching as I raced up the stairs, determined not to give Finn a chance to change his mind. I love, love, love makeovers, and hopefully, once it was actually happening, I could convince Finn to not only do something about his hair, but work on his skin as well. I've warned him about his T-zone in the past, but I swear that the boy never listens. How he isn't constantly all broken out is a mystery that might never be solved.
Finn was still sitting at the counter when I got back, nibbling at the last of his orange and making notes on a piece of paper. "Ready?"
He shot me a thumbs up and bounced to his feet. I kept chattering to him as we walked down the stairs, never asking what I actually wanted to, which was why he had decided to kiss me last night. That could wait until I actually had him sitting down and trapped.
I started setting things up with a flourish, while Finn vacillated between me and the bathroom, making gestures. I rolled my eyes. "If you need to go, then go, because I'm not stopping in the middle for a potty break."
His head shook once, and I could feel his frustration. "What, then?" I had to remember to correctly modulate my voice, and not let my own frustration break through.
More gestures, and it suddenly hit me. "Oh, no, you don't have to wash your hair beforehand. It's part of the salon experience, but not necessary. Just sit down at my vanity and we'll get started."
My hands were shaking a little as I draped a towel around Finn's neck and plugged in the clippers. Finn did have a point when he told me that my father was bald. Carole's hair hadn't been difficult to cut, especially since I wouldn't have been terribly heartbroken if I screwed it up and Dad dumped her after I made her look like the bride of Frankenstein, but this was different.
Of course it's different you idiot, it's Finn.
Finn, who was sitting very still and patient, not seeming to mind that I was holding all of the power here. He tapped his fingers on the vanity, his eyes finding mine in the mirror and holding them in a viselike grip.
I had to force myself to look down, breaking the staring contest, which was something I thought I would never have to do with Finn Hudson. I picked the clippers up and held them to the back of his head. "I'm going to start, alright?"
He nodded, and I turned them on, the buzzing sounding extraordinarily loud in the quiet that had fallen over the bedroom. I moved carefully, since Finn's hair seems to grow in different directions and I didn't want to gouge him. Whoever said that it was only hair deserved to be shot. Hair was the first thing that people noticed, and I didn't want to give Finn any more excuses to want to hide himself away.
Luckily, Finn behaved himself and held perfectly still, except for a brief twitch when I accidentally ran the side of the clippers over the back of his ear. "Is it ok if I leave it a little longer then it was? If you don't like it, we can always go shorter again."
At his thumbs up, I touched the clippers back to his head, evening his hair out. "Ok, what do you think?" It was much shorter then it had been, even a little shorter then it had been when he first came back, but longer then it had been Before.
He cocked his head, first one way, then the other, obviously thinking it over. I thought he looked cute, plus the new cut would be easy for him to take care of.
You always think he looks cute. Actually, you always think he looks hot, and like you want to tap that ass.
That was sadly true, but I made the voice be quiet for a few minutes. There were bigger issues here, and I couldn't hold back any longer. "Finn, I need to ask you a question." I paused until he met my eyes in the mirror again, then pushed forward. "Why did you kiss me last night?"
He thought for a second, then made the 'I love you' sign again. "You kissed me because you love me?"
A nod. As much as my heart (among other body parts) wanted to just accept that and move on, I had to clear the air between us. "Finn, do you think we should talk about things? I mean, the things that were happening before you went away?" I never said kidnapped, and neither did Dad or Carole. We all just acted like Finn had gone on some sort of extended trip.
He shook his head, his gaze dark. "I think we need to anyway."
I could tell that he didn't like it, but he turned around on the bench so we were facing each other and held out one hand, showing me all five fingers. "I have five minutes?"
That was the case, so I started talking. "You're playing with me." My voice cracked and I cleared my throat. "You're playing with me, Finn, and it isn't fair. Maybe you don't mean to, but you are. You know full well how I feel about you, and it isn't fair for you to give me kisses, and tell me that you love me, when we both know that you don't mean it the way I want you to. I mean, we both know that you aren't gay, and you don't have feelings like that for me. So stop. You're making it too hard for both of us."
By the time I was done, my face was burning and I couldn't look Finn in the face. There, I had said everything that I had tried so hard to hide for the past two years. I gathered my courage to look at Finn, who looked like I had hit him. His jaw had dropped and he was shaking his head back and forth slowly. "Finn, I'm sorry." I wasn't exactly sure what I was apologizing for, but it seemed appropriate.
Now he was on his feet, pacing the room like a caged tiger. He kept raising his hands and making little gestures that weren't actual signs and I couldn't interpret, the running them through his hair in frustration. Watching him, his frustration almost a physical thing, I wondered what it would be like to be as mute as he was, and to have no one who could understand my smaller gestures.
After what felt like a million years, Finn shook his head once and started spelling a word. P-L-A-Y-I-N-G. "You're not playing?" He nodded.
"I didn't say you were doing it deliberately. But, Finn, don't you understand where I'm coming from? You ask for hugs, and give me kisses and tell me you love me. How would you feel if Rachel was doing all those things to you, when you knew full well that you could never have her."
I N-E-E-D U. He looked like he wanted to cry, which made me want to cry. Well, that and the fact that my dream was dying a miserable death and I couldn't do anything to stop it.
"That's just it, Finn. You need me. I could be Rachel, or Mike, or even Quinn. You don't need or want me because I'm me; you do it because I'm here."
No. Finn was moving his hands so rapidly that I couldn't get anything but that.
"Yes. This isn't healthy for either one of us and, deep down, we both know it. I love you, I'll always love you, and eventually, I'll be able to love you like a brother. But not yet. It has nothing to do with you, ok? You're great. Actually, you're better then great, which is the problem. We just need a break from each other."
The misery in his eyes was slowly replaced by anger. F-I-N-E. B-R-E-A-K N-O-W. He kicked over the vanity bench and stormed up the stairs, slamming the door at the top.
I sat heavily on my bed, the shakes that I had been trying to control finally breaking free. Well, I didn't have to worry about not being able to control myself around Finn, any more. With the look he had given me, he would never want to be alone with me again.
He'll get over it. You hurt his feelings, that's all. You admitted your feelings, and put it all out there for him. That was brave of you, and Finn will appreciate that in the end. The end might just be a while from now.
Since I had no desire to be caught on the tail end of Finn's temper, so I stayed downstairs, sweeping up the hair and putting the basement back together. Then I cleaned the bathroom and fixed my half of the room so it looked nice again. I was stalling, and I knew it, but hadn't I just told Finn that we needed some time away from each other?
I don't think that you hiding in the basement is going to do anything. You set your parents up, now they live together, and you're just going to have to deal with the consequences of that. You wouldn't have had Finn even if he had never disappeared, and do you really want to spend the next few weeks hiding out in your room?
Not really. Two hours was long enough for him to cool down, right?
As it turned out, two hours was nowhere near long enough for Finn to cool down. He was standing in the kitchen, tearing up lettuce leaves with a vengeance. While he did so, he was back to making that low, continuous growling noise. I decided that a strategic retreat (read: running like a coward), was the best option here and raced back down the stairs.
Thankfully, my phone was down there, and I was able to call Mercedes for some advice. She listened and gave my her best 'you are the biggest idiot in the world' sigh. "Kurt, you could have been a little more tactful. Girls like big scenes where the man pours his heart out. It makes boys want to run for the hills. Why didn't you just suggest a few separate activities for the pair of you for a few days? Finn doesn't get subtle, you know that. He would have gone along with it and never realized that you were deliberately putting some space between you two."
"Because he told me that he loved me last night. And he kissed me."
There was enough of a silence that I thought I might have lost the connection. "'Cedes, are you still there?"
"Let me get this straight. Finn Hudson, straight Quarterback, told you he loves you, and he kissed you? Did he talk?"
"Of course not. I'm starting to think that he's never going to talk again." That thought was too depressing to contemplate for long, so I filled Mercedes in on everything that had happened last night.
When I was done, she sighed heavily. "What a mess. Ok, I'm going to go out on a limb here. Are you 100% sure that the boy is straight?"
"Dated Quinn, dated Rachel, no fashion sense, freaked out when I tried to touch him…yeah, he's straight."
"Didn't do more then kiss Quinn, didn't do more then kiss Rachel, Perez Hilton, didn't freak out until you really started perving on him, told you he loved you and kissed your cheek…might be at least curious."
She was so not helping. "Even if he's having some misplaced feelings for me, he's my stepbrother now, and he's traumatized. He doesn't like me because I'm me, he likes me because I'm there. Besides, he's so pissed off with me he can't see straight."
"He'll get over it. He's gotten over everything else, hasn't he? Just let him work his pissy out and he'll be back to normal."
It was sound advice, but, if there was even the slightest chance that Finn might be interested in me, I wasn't sure that I wanted things to go back to normal. Was it selfish to want what was best for me, even if it wasn't necessarily what was best for Finn?
I waited, but the voice in my head had fallen silent. Oh, so the bitch could comment on everything else, but, when I was really in crisis, chose to be silent? "I can't do it, Mercedes, I just can't. Even if it's what he wants, is it still what I want?"
"Can you afford not to? You insist on making things too complicated. The two of you need to have a talk, or whatever it is that he does. A real one, not one where you yell and he kicks things. Maybe it won't turn out how you want it to, but, who knows, maybe it will?"
"And maybe-" Anything else I might have wanted to say was cut off by Carole's voice. "Kurt! Upstairs, right now!"
Normally I would have been irritated at being instructed to do anything by a woman who wasn't my mother, but something in her voice gave me pause. "Mercedes, I have to go, Carole's calling me." I hung up without even bothering to say goodbye.
"Kurt Anthony, I mean it! Hang up the phone and march yourself up here!" Now Dad was in on it. Finn, even lacking the powers of speech, had somehow tattled on me for being mean to him.
Then something else hit home. Neither Dad nor Carole should be home for at least another hour. Something was wrong. My heart was trying to thump its way out of my chest, and I almost tripped going up the stairs.
The three of them were in the living room, waiting for me. Finn was on the couch, deathly pale and snuggled up to Carole, who was softly petting his back, muttering nonsense words. Dad stood a few feet away, still in his filthy coveralls from the garage and bending his baseball cap in his hands. I stopped in the doorway, overcome with the paralyzing urge to just turn around and run. "What's going on?"
Dad took a deep breath. "They made an arrest in your brother's case. They caught the guy, Kurt."