Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
Psalm 30:5 King James Bible
By the time I woke up the next morning, I could almost believe that last night had been a dream. A wonderful, special dream, but a dream nonetheless. But Finn's body was still warm and curled around mine, his breathing slow and deep. If he was really here, then it had actually happened. Even though I knew it was wrong, I couldn't help but lean over and kiss him on the cheek. He didn't even stir. It was well past 9, but we had only gotten a few hours of sleep, so I snuggled back against him and went back to sleep.
The second time I woke, Carole was standing at the bottom of the stairs. I couldn't make myself do anything, and the longer she stared, the redder I could feel my face turning. "Hi, Carole."
"Hi, Kurt." Her voice was soft and Finn remained undisturbed. She gestured at him. "Did he have a bad night?"
That was a mild way to put it. "Kind of."
"Poor Finn. Is there anything I can do?" She looked like she wanted to come closer, but she held back. Maybe she was worried about waking him up.
"No, we're fine. We were up almost all night, so I think just a few hours of extra sleep will do it. Do you work today?" Usually I knew both her and Dad's work schedules by heart, but I was so tired I couldn't even think.
She shook her head. "I asked for a few days off, so I could be here for the family. If you need me, I'll be doing some cleaning upstairs. Otherwise, I'll let the two of you sleep. I turned the phone off."
"Thank you, Carole." I wanted to blurt everything out, tell her that Finn could talk now, and that, yes, things had been horrendous for him, but that he was at least telling someone about them, and that was the first step towards being healed of them.
But I couldn't do that. Finn had already told me he knew what he wanted to say to her, and I didn't want to spoil it for him. Plus, the poor boy needed some sleep. Carole came over and smoothed Finn's hair, then lightly stroked mine. Had it been anyone else messing with my hair, they would have died a horrible death. When she did it, though, I found myself purring like an oversized cat and pressing into her hand. She smiled and leaned down to kiss my cheek. Then she was gone and I cuddled closer to Finn, enjoying his body heat in the cool basement. He whined in his sleep and wrapped one arm around me.
I swear that my heart stopped beating. For two years I had fantasized about being in Finn Hudson's arms, about having him spooned up against me just like he was right now. Funny how dreams never turn out exactly how you think they will.
With our new positions, it was easy to feel Finn's breath fanning out across the back of my neck and the size of his body compared to mine. His fingers rested against my chest, curled slightly, though they weren't actually reaching for anything. I wondered what he was dreaming about, and if his dreams were any better then usual for the emotional purging that had just gone on. Hard to say with Finn, since he tended to sleep deeply and quietly, especially since he had started on his medication.
I wondered how much it actually helped him, but that was one of the things I couldn't just come out and ask. He had nodded when I asked him if the pills made him feel better, but had stalled out when it came to explaining how. He was a good signer, but he just didn't have the words to explain the subtle feelings.
It's not the signs, it's probably the vocabulary. But you don't have to worry about that any more, do you? Finn talks, or have you forgotten that already?
Funny enough, I almost had. Finn had been first missing and then mute for so long that it felt more normal then not to not hear his voice. But now he could talk, and things, or at least communication, would be easier. Pleased that I had settled the matter in my own mind, I let myself fall back asleep.
When I woke the next time, it was because Finn was gone and my side was freezing. How I could feel Finn's absence so keenly, when it was at least 80 degrees out already and I had never slept with him before, but I did. It was like part of my own body was missing.
Get used to it. Finn slept here last night because he was tired, and scared, and wanted someone to be close to someone. He's not yours, he never has been.
Yet. Finn wasn't mine yet, but that didn't mean that that he would never be mine. It just meant that he wasn't mine right now.
Whatever, stalker boy.
Hey! I wasn't doing anything even vaguely inappropriate to Finn. I hadn't forced him to tell me what had happened, I had given him the choice of where he slept, and I had even offered get his mother for him instead.
Exactly. You're doing everything right, right now, and Finn's responding to that. Don't push it. Just let Finn choose what to do, and accept his choices.
Yeah, yeah, I got it. Just keep doing what I was doing and eventually, I would either have a boyfriend or a new brother who could hopefully help me get a boyfriend. I wasn't exactly seeing downside here. "Finn?"
There was no response, which could have meant that he had gone upstairs and left me to sleep, or that he had gone mute again and was in the bathroom. A quick peek that that direction confirmed that the bathroom was empty, so I figured he must have gone upstairs.
Sure enough, he was curled up on the couch, watching a hockey game. I didn't even know we got those on our satellite plan. When he saw me, he leapt up and put his arms around me, which was his standard greeting these days. "Hi." It was a hoarse whisper, so raspy that I could barely understand it. Talking so much last night had absolutely wrecked his voice after him being silent for so long.
So last night hadn't been a dream, after all. I smiled at him. "Hi. Did you eat?"
His head shook. "Did you say something to your mother?"
Another shake and I wondered if I should push it, or just let him move at his own pace. "Since it's a special morning, how about I make crepes for us?"
His eyes narrowed and he signed 'what?' at me. So apparently he wasn't totally back to talking yet.
My guess would be that his throat hurts, Kurt. You heard how he sounded a minute ago.
I hadn't considered that. "Crepes are like little thin pancakes, but very sweet. You can roll them up and put a little cream or jelly in them. It's almost like having dessert for breakfast."
That was all he needed to hear before he was racing for the kitchen. "Dad? Carole? I'm making breakfast!"
Finn's head peeped back around the corner. "Not home."
"Where are they?" Carole hadn't mentioned anything about leaving.
"Police." His head vanished again, and he returned with a note that had obviously been stolen off the fridge.
Finn and Kurt-
We're at the police station getting a few things sorted out, should be done back by 1. Please don't leave the house without calling.
Love, Mom and Dad
XOXOXO
Finn traced his fingers over the second to last line, the one that had caught my attention as well. Mom and Dad, like we were a real family, not one just cobbled together from a bunch of broken pieces. I guess it would have looked weird to sign as But and Carole, and since it was to both of us, Mom and Dad did make the most sense, but…maybe I was over thinking it.
"Is it ok?" Finn no doubt remembered how I had reacted the last time my father had tried to make a claim on him.
No, but I sensed how badly he needed it to be ok. "Yeah." I pointed to the word 'mom'. "Are you ok?"
"I can share." He wasn't happy about it, I could tell, but he would go along with it. Why was anyone's guess.
Really? You don't think that he looks at you and sees that same desperate longing for a missing parent that you see when you look at him? To quote your father, Kurt, Finn's dumb but not stupid.
I broke the tension by smiling and slipping away. "So, crepes?"
Finn all but swooned. "Can I help?"
"Not right now, but later. Does your throat hurt?" His voice was cracking and he tried to clear it again.
"Yeah."
"There's some fruit pops in the back of the freezer, why don't you grab one. It should feel good on your throat."
His eyes narrowed. "I ate them all."
"No, you didn't. You ate all the Popsicles, which are nothing but sugar and artificial dye, but I have fruit pops in the back, behind the frozen beans. They're 100% fruit, so they're good for you."
Finn didn't seem convinced, but he rummaged around until he found my stash of expensive, organic, snacks. He unwrapped a strawberry one and gave it a tentative lick. "Hm." He sucked enthusiastically, watching me crack eggs and whisk the batter.
I was whisking a lot harder then necessary, mostly to cover up the sounds that Finn was making with that fruit pop. Did he have to make it sound so downright pornographic?
You need to get laid. All Finn is doing is eating a Popsicle the same way anyone else would and-oh, God. Never mind, it's pornographic. And it's hot.
What we were both seeing was Finn with the treat all the way down his throat. I'm sure that, in the strange landscape that was Finn Hudson's brain, there was a logical reason for this. I could even follow his train of thought. Hmm…my throat hurts. Ice will make the pain go away. If I put the ice directly on the pain, it will go away faster. Hence (not that Finn would use the word hence, but it seemed appropriate here), he would shove the fruit pop down his throat.
"C-could you get the butter, please?" My voice trembled, and I forced it to be steady. It was already out of the fridge and sitting on the table, but after Finn's little display, I didn't think that turning around right now was the best idea.
Luckily, Finn's always eager to help out, so he grabbed it for me. "Ok, now the powdered sugar. No, Finn, that's not powdered sugar, it's regular."
His head cocked. "You can't powder it?"
Why did I find that stupidity of his so damn cute? "No. Powdered sugar is in the cabinet under the microwave and it looks like cornstarch."
From the blank look on his face, Finn had no idea what cornstarch looked like either. "Like white chocolate milk mix."
"Oh. Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" He found it in seconds and held it out.
"No, just put it on the counter. We're going to sprinkle it on top of the crepes after they're done. Now see what type of fruit we have in the fridge." I was pretty sure that there were some berries in a bowl.
He was able to come up with not only the berries, but a few apples, the cream (why was it that I could mention the fact that you can put cream in crepes once and he remembered it perfectly, but the thousandth repetition of 'please clean up the bathroom floor after you shower' went unheeded?) and a bottle of chocolate syrup.
I made enough for both of us, then showed Finn how to put the cream and fruit in the middle and wrap the crepe up. He was surprisingly deft at it, tucking the ends in neatly.
He hadn't even taken a bite when the front door banged open. "Kurt? Finn? Are you boys awake?" Carole's voice rang out, sounding way too cheerful for where she had just been.
"We are! We're having crepes for brunch, but you guys can come share! I promise Finn hasn't touched all of them." My sometime brother (and most of the time crush) had a bad habit of poking through dinner to find the best piece/slice/bite/whatever. It was disgusting, but he still did it whenever my back was turned. Granted, he was making more of an effort to at least use his fork to poke through it, but still.
I saw Finn's mouth open when they entered the room, but absolutely nothing came out. He looked puzzled, staring down, then trying again. Still nothing. Whatever mental block had kept him from speaking in the first place must still have been somewhat in effect. His eyes widened in panic, his breathing going fast. I stroked his back a few times, knowing that neither one of our parents could see us. They were both too busy oohing and ahhing over breakfast.
"I thought brunch was in between breakfast and lunch. It's almost 1:30." I noticed that it not actually being brunch time didn't stop Dad from grabbing two crepes and the bottle of chocolate syrup.
"Finn and I got a late start on the day, so it's the correct time for us, even if it isn't correct by the clock. Isn't that right Finn?" I grabbed another crepe as I spoke, because I was starving and my offer of food had been more out of politeness rather then actually hoping they would take any.
"Mom." Once none of us were looking at him, Finn seemed to have found his courage.
Absolute silence reigned, with both parents staring in shock. Finn's eyelids fluttered rapidly, but he took another deep breath. "Mom." This time it came out clearly, and there was no mistaking what he had said.
Carole's hand flew to her mouth, and I could tell that it took everything she had to charge in and smother him in kisses. She remembered the therapist's words as well as I had. Don't make a big deal out of this and don't upset Finn. If you make a huge deal, you might scare him back into silence.
Honestly, if what he had revealed to me last night hadn't scared him into silence, I was pretty sure that nothing would. Finn smiled happily at all of us, then took a bite of his crepe. We all waited while he chewed, hanging on his every motion. He wiped his mouth (after much training, Finn had finally been taught the proper use of a napkin) and looked back up. "I love you."
"Oh, baby, I love you, too." She held out her arms and he went to her immediately, the half eaten crepe still in one hand. Let it never be said that anything, not even a moment so heartwarming that we could be on the Hallmark channel, got in between Finn and his breakfast.
I wondered if 'I love you' had been what he had been planning to say, or if he had choked at the last minute. He had specifically told me that he knew what he wanted to say, which led me to believe that it had been a little more elaborate. After all, how much thinking did those three words require?
What else could he possibly want or need to say? Is there any phrase in this world more important?
Sometimes that voice had a point. Now if only he would say the words to me, and mean them the way I wanted him too.
He said it just yesterday. You were the one who didn't bother to figure out how he meant it. He probably would have explained if you didn't freak out on him.
I guessed that was true. But it was just too hard to believe that Finn would ever be attracted to me.
Why not? You're cute, you're funny, and you've been there for him when no one else was. He's not stupid, he knows who loves him and who's only pretending to.
Who was only pretending to love Finn? I loved him, his mother thought the sun rose and set on him, and even Dad loved him deeply, despite Finn not liking him at all. But it was really the first part of what that voice said that hammered it home for me. I had been there when no one else had. Soon Rach would be back from France, and he would see her again and remember that there were people in the world besides his family, and he would leave me behind again. Better to just accept that now and not get my hopes up.
He wasn't with Rachel when that man took him. She was with Jesse, and as far as Finn knows, she's still with Jesse. Doesn't it strike you the slightest bit odd that Finn hasn't once asked about Rachel? He's let her go.
Actually, it did strike me as a bit odd. At one point or another, Finn had asked about most of the Glee club. Matt had come over one day and played basketball with him (boy, that was a fun day- I don't think either one of them made a sound other then Matt greeting Finn and telling him goodbye at the end of the day), Tina had come by at least twice a week to play games and hang out with him. I was never quite sure what went on during those sessions, because she always told me to either go hang out with Mercedes or locked the door on me, claiming she and Finn needed privacy. I knew for a fact that nothing sexual was happening between them, since she was still with Artie, but neither one of them would tell me what actually was happening. It drove me batty to be out of the loop like that.
Artie came over one day, and he and Finn sat together in the yard, since there was no way for Artie to be able to get around in our house. Finn was willing to lift him up the steps, but our doorways were narrow and the carpet thick, so they had sat outside instead. Artie talked, and Finn listened, his head cocked to the side. I had been busy that day, but the few times I had checked in, Artie had been complaining about Tina, and afraid that he was losing her. Finn nodded sympathetically and eventually wrote a rather long (for Finn) note telling him exactly what to do. Honestly, I was a little scared of what might be in that note, considering Finn's track record with relationships, but it was clearly a secret.
Even Santana had come by, despite her bitch queen image. She only stayed long enough to whisper something in Finn's ear that caused him to blush a bright shade of Va-Va-Vixen red, the same shade I wanted to have for our living room furniture. Dad had nixed that idea really quick, though, and we were stuck with boring old brown. The man had no flair for the dramatic, I swear.
Normally I would have just assumed that she was torturing him, but then I remembered what he had said to me last night. He had had sex with Santana at some point. God, that was gross.
No, that's good. At least he has one good sexual experience to compare to all the bad ones. That way he knows that it doesn't have to be forceful, scary and painful. That disgusting romp with Santana might be Finn's saving grace.
Knowing Santana, I wouldn't be sure that Finn had had such a good sexual experience. More likely, he had been manipulated into it, and summarily dumped afterwards. But still, she hadn't held a weapon on him and forced him to do things that even I found frightening. And, at the end of the day, Finn was a teenage boy and an incredibly hot girl had been offering herself to him, no strings attached. That had probably gone a long way towards making him willing.
But I noticed that, whatever she had said, Finn wanted no part in it. He just smiled weakly and shook his head, not budging, even when she reached up for a hug and pulled him down until his face was smashed into her breasts. He seemed to like it, but he still refused to go anywhere with her.
By mutual agreement, Santana had left Britney at home. It wasn't that the blond didn't adore Finn, just like everyone else, but the girl couldn't be trusted not to say the wrong thing. At the time, not only was Finn not talking, but he hadn't even acknowledged that Puck was gone, and the risk of Brit unintentionally upsetting him had seemed too great.
Santana had, however, brought a little box from Brit, a welcome home gift. We both watched him undo the Christmas paper (because it was the happiest holiday, and Brit wanted Finn to be happy- duh), and pull out a note and a small metal object. I peeked over at what was cradled in his hand. A compass. Brit had given Finn a compass. He closed his fingers around it and picked up the note. It was pink, and had a cat on it and we could all read the few words.
Finn-
This is so you never get lost again.
Love, Brit
It was such a Britney gesture, but Finn had actually smiled for the first time in days. He had carried the compass around constantly, and even now took it whenever he went outside. It was a something that, at least in Finn's mind, was keeping him safe from harm. I had to remember that Finn and Brit were both rather literal creatures, and having something tangible to remind him that he was alright meant a lot to him.
Finn had accepted everyone coming with equal joy, but the voice was right, he had never once asked for Rachel. He hadn't asked if she was still with Jessie, or when she was coming back, of even if she knew that he was back. The answers to those questions were no, in a few days, and no again. I had left the task of telling her to Santana, because I didn't want to be caught in the middle of Ms. Berry's anger when she found out that we were keeping Finn from her. If he had asked for her, I would have bitten the bullet and at least tried to call, but he hadn't. As far as Finn was concerned, Rachel Berry no longer existed.
Until she got back, of course. Then he would take one look at her hideous animal sweater and too high socks and fall madly back in love with her. Then I would just be the creepy gay kid who he shared a room with, and we would go back to being kind of friends, but mostly two guys who pretended not to see each other in the hallways.
Unexpected tears pricked at my eyes. I thought that Finn and I had become close, especially since he had talked to me before anyone else, but I was never going to compare to one Rachel Berry, and it was pointless for me to try.
Paging Kurt Hummel, your pity party is waiting at the front. Are you really pissed off at Finn for something that hasn't even happened yet? Now listen up. You are many things, Kurt, but a coward isn't one of them. Finn tells you he loves you, and now you're looking for any excuse to get rid of him because you're too afraid of getting hurt. Finn isn't going to dump you for Rachel, no matter what you think.
Self preservation wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Besides, how did that voice know what Finn would or wouldn't do? There was no such thing as being able to see the future, and even if there was, I didn't have the talent. If I had, I would have avoided dozens of dumpster dives over the years.
I know because I know, period. And you should listen to me. Think of me as your much smarter alter ego. Now, who was the one who told you that Finn would be back? Who told you that he would come to you if you were gentle and patient? Who told you that Finn had a little crush in the first place? That's right, me.
There wasn't much I could say to that, because the voice was right. But I couldn't take the chance. I just couldn't. I would rather have Finn in my life as just a brother, then risk spoiling the entire family that Dad and Carole were trying to hard to build. If the voice was wrong, and Finn wasn't interested in me that way, then I was going to completely terrify him. He had already been sexually abused by someone that he should have been able to trust, by virtue of the fact that the man was an adult if nothing else, and I wouldn't let that happen again.
I didn't say grope him, I just said that you should be open to whatever happens. He knows what to do; you just need to get caught up.
A hand touched my shoulder, gently pulling me backwards. Dad leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Kurt, you don't seem very surprised about this. How long has Finn been talking to you?"
To an objective observer, my father might appear to be nothing but a dumb grease monkey. Not that I ever thought that, of course, but plenty of people did. But, like Finn, he can be amazingly observant when you least expected it. I picked my chin up so I could whisper back to him, even though I was pretty sure that neither Finn nor Carole would notice if I dropped an atomic bomb in the kitchen. "Since last night. He told me everything."
"He does remember, then. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not." Dad sounded lost in thought.
Finn was mumbling to Carole, but nothing sounded like actual words, just broken noises. But they were noises, and he seemed to be making an effort to communicate, which was more then we had gotten before.
Anyway, Carole seemed to understand him perfectly. I noticed that she wasn't asking him any of the questions that she must have wanted to, just like I hadn't asked last night. There would be too many people demanding answers, probably starting today. They had already made an arrest in his case, which meant they had limited time to charge the man and get him to trial. Finn was going to have to tell this story over and over, whether he was ready or not. Carole was giving him the only kindness she could, by giving him a last few hours to himself.
Finally she drew back, and Finn took another few nibbles of his now cold crepe. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled, mouthing the words 'thank you' at me. I smiled back, but I couldn't help but worry that I was about to become superfluous, now that she had Finn back and talking.
You won't.
I had to trust that voice, no matter how hard it was. Carole loved me, she had to love me.
She does.
I might have gotten caught up in arguing with myself, but Dad's hand tightened on my shoulder. "Kurt, why don't we go in the other room for a little bit." He was trying to turn me, but, for once, I wasn't going to listen.
"No." My voice came out stronger then I had expected it would.
"No?" Dad sounded shocked, since I so seldom talked back to him.
Now I had everyone's attention, which was really the last thing I wanted. But I squared my shoulders and stared back at Dad. "No."
"We're a family, and families stick together." Finn had piped up when I never thought he would. "No more me and Mom and Kurt and Burt. All of us, together." He nodded at his own words, meeting Dad's eyes and staring deeply. "Right?"
Speech, or maybe just the fact that Carole was right there with her arms around him, had made Finn brave enough to directly acknowledge Dad. It was strange, though I guessed not any stranger then anything else that had happened over the last few days. Dad nodded. "You're right, Finn. We're a family, and we stick together. Now, how about you share those crepes with your new family?"
"Ok." Finn held out the plate to Dad, a strange, quirky smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. I noticed that he artfully turned the plate so there was no way that Dad could actually touch him, but he was making progress. Slowly but surely, that was Finn's way.
By a mutual but unspoken agreement, we all put off talking to the police for as long as possible. Finn picked out a movie (Lilo and Stitch, naturally. I wanted to believe that he was telling us something about family, especially considering what we had just talked about, but knowing Finn, he was probably more interested in the fart jokes.) and we all settled in to watch. Dad and Carole sat on the couch, and Finn and I stayed in front of it. Finn was leaning against Carole's legs, allowing her to reach down and touch him.
I waited an appropriate amount of time before excusing myself to the bathroom. As soon as I latched the door, I had my phone out and was dialing Mercedes. She picked up on the third ring. "This better be good, Kurt, I'm getting ready to go out the door."
"It is." I took a deep breath and just blurted it out. "Finn's talking."
She drew in a breath so quickly that it whistled. "You're kidding. Since when?"
"Since last night. They made an arrest, you know." I don't know why I expected that she might.
"I know. Baby, I've left you a dozen messages about it." She sounded exasperated with me.
"Sorry, my phones been- wait, how did you know?" What had I missed?
I could almost hear her eyes rolling. "Kurt, it's been all over the news all day. I'm surprised that your phone hasn't been ringing off the hook."
Actually, the phone hadn't rang all day. Something nagged at the back of my mind, and I suddenly remembered Carole saying she had taken it off the hook this morning. No wonder, she must have known that the news was out. Lima's a tiny town, and it had been a few years since we had a murder at all, much less the sensational murder/kidnapping of a pair of teenagers. "Oh." My voice was weak and wavery.
"But he's talking, right? That's great! How did it happen?" She was clearly trying to perk me back up.
"He climbed in bed with me last night and just did it. There's never been anything wrong with his voice, you know, it's all in his head." I couldn't tell her everything, because I had too much respect for Finn to do that, but I had to tell someone.
"Back up. Tell me again how Finn Hudson got in your bed. And tell me slowly, because I have no love life so I have to enjoy yours."
As bad as I felt, I had to laugh a little at that comment. It came out choked and pitiful sounding, but it was a laugh all the same. "I don't either. He woke me up at some ungodly hour, then just started talking. He told me everything."
"It's bad, isn't it?" Mercedes is no fool, and she knew that Finn hadn't been off picking up girls and sun tanning in New Mexico.
"Really, really bad. This morning it all felt like some horrible dream, but he was still there, and he's talking for Carole and Dad today. I think he's going to be alright." Actually, it was more like I hoped he would be alright, but I was trying to be more positive these days.
"Of course he is. White Boy's as stubborn as a mule. He's managed to get himself home from New Mexico unharmed, even if it took him a while. How did he do that, by they way?"
I guessed that it was alright to tell her that. "The guy dropped him off."
"Just like that?" Her voice was dripping with disbelief.
"Just like that." After of course, multiple rapes and an aborted murder plot, but those things fell into the category of things I wasn't about to tell her.
She was quiet for a minute, and I wondered if the tears in my voice had betrayed me, even though I wasn't about to let them fall. "He can do this, Kurt, I promise."
Everyone had such faith in Finn, always. Finn could join Glee and put up with the teasing. Finn can get us to Sectionals and help us win. Finn can protect everyone and never need any protection for himself. Finn can have a nervous breakdown raising a baby that isn't even his, its fine, he's tough. Finn can put up with a little harmless flirting. Finn could deal with suddenly moving into with two people he barely knew with absolutely no warning. Finn could get over Pucks murder. The sad part was, Finn could do all those things, but at what cost to his emotional health? There was going to be a point where Finn can turned into Finn can't, and I wasn't sure I wanted to be around when that happened.
A volley of knocks sounded on the door. "Kurt, what are you doing in there?" Finn rattled the knob.
I pulled the phone down to my shoulder. "Finn Hudson, I am in the bathroom! What do you think I'm doing in here?"
"Talking on the phone. I could here you from out here. Now come on, you're going to miss the best part!"
He sounded so enthusiastic that I had to chuckle a little to myself. Then, the rest of what he had said sunk in. "Were you listening outside the door? What if I had actually been using the toilet?" They might be natural functions, but I refused to even acknowledge that I did such things; much less that someone might overhear them.
"It's been 20 minutes. I figured you were either on the phone or you got, you know, distracted putting on make-up or something. So I listened in. Hi Mercedes!" His voice rose a little.
I didn't want to give him the pleasure of knowing that he was right, so I whispered into the phone. "I have to go, Finn says hi. I'll call you tonight."
She giggled and hung up. I ran some water, like I was actually washing my hands, and opened the door. Finn was leaning against the opposite wall, grinning at me, and he looked so normal that I had to clutch my arms around my own body to keep from just grabbing him and smothering him in kisses. He grinned. "Did Mercedes say hi back?"
"No, because I wasn't talking to Mercedes." I don't know why I bothered lying to him. Finn's like a truth seeking missile sometimes.
He grinned. "So you were putting on make-up? What type?"
Huh, maybe I preferred him not talking after all. "What would make you think that I wear make-up at all?" I regretted it the minute I asked. The first rule of getting by in Lima, Ohio without getting my face punched in was to never ask a question without knowing what the answer was.
"Well, sometimes you have freckles here-"He traced a finger across my nose and cheekbones and it was all I could do not shiver. "-and sometimes you don't. So either your freckles are fake, or you cover them up. But I think they're real."
Busted. "Please don't tell my father." Dad had been amazingly tolerant of everything, but knowing his son was wearing cosmetics, even concealer, might push him right over the edge.
Another smile. "Don't worry, I can keep a secret."
That was for sure. My breath caught in my throat as Finn held out a hand. I stretched my own out tentatively; ready to pull back the second he indicated I had misinterpreted his offer. His hand enclosed mine completely, his grip just tight enough to make me feel secure, but loose enough that I could pull back. He led me back downstairs, as gentle as a dream.
Just before we reentered the living room, he dropped my hand and gave me a tentative smile. "Just so you know, I really like your freckles. You shouldn't cover them up."
With that, he dropped my hand and went bounding into the living room, happily tossing himself down in his previous spot. "Found him!"
Carole sighed. "Finn, I told you to leave your brother alone. He might have had things to do, you know."
Finn gave her a sassy look. "Maybe not. Maybe he was just waiting for one of us to come find him."
Just like Finn wanted someone to come find him all the months he was away. Is it such a surprise that he wants all of you to be around now? He's trying to make sure that you're all safe.
I didn't think so. Finn didn't seem worried, or stressed, or even that concerned. Instead he was showing childlike delight at the prospect; as if he and I had been doing nothing more then playing a game of hide and seek. Finn's mind is a mysterious place, and I couldn't even begin to determine what was going on inside of it.
Which means you can't know what his true feelings for you are, unless you ask. Finn's many things, not all of them good, but he's not a liar. Ask, you big doofus, or forever hold your peace.
That was true, but I just didn't have the courage to come out with it like that. Instead I sat next to Finn, close enough to feel his warmth, and smell the soap from the shower he had just recently taken.
The rest of the day passed in a strange sort of blur. Several reporters came to the door, but, oddly, that petered out after Dad greeted the second set with the business end of his shotgun. Finn didn't say anything about that, but I could see the admiration in his eyes. Dad's protectiveness, so freely given, might be what finally built the bridge between him and Finn.
It was nearly dinnertime before Carole gently broached the subject of Finn talking to the police. He didn't look particularly happy about it, but he nodded. She didn't give him any chance to back out. "Tomorrow?"
Another nod, though he was biting his lip nervously. Carole didn't seem sure, so Finn forced a smile. "I can do it. I promise, Mom, I can do it."
We all left it at that, not because we believed him, but because there was nothing for us to say. Finn had to tell the story; there was no other way that it could happen. We knew it and so did he.
Dinner was a subdued affair, though Carole tried to perk it up by making brownies for dessert. She and Dad held an unspoken conversation while they thought that Finn and I were distracted by dessert, and she took Finn upstairs afterwards, using some pretense that none of us even pretended to believe. She just wanted the truth out of him, before she had to hear the horrible details in front of the entire Lima police department.
It was to Dad's credit that he didn't try and pump me for answers, even though he was now the only family member that was out of the loop. He just sat down in front of the game and left me to clear the table. I did so, washing the dishes and wiping down the counters until everything was clean and perfect.
Finn and Carole stayed upstairs for so long that I thought he might end up sleeping up there and relegating Dad to his bed tonight. But, just as I was getting into bed, there was a soft noise on the steps, and there was Finn, coming down. I smiled at him. "Are you spending the night down here?"
"Yeah. I mean, my beds down here." He was grumpy sounding, and, now that he had moved into the light, I could see that his face was blotched and tearstained. He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, changing automatically into his pajamas. "Goodnight, Kurt."
"Goodnight. Do you want the light out?" I really wanted to finish this chapter, but if Finn wanted to sleep, I would do it tomorrow.
"No, it's fine." He curled up on his side, his back to me, and went very still. I could tell that he wasn't asleep, but I also knew that he wouldn't appreciate me drawing attention to that fact, so I remained quiet. When I was done with my chapter, I turned out the light and closed my eyes, even though I was finding it harder and harder to fall asleep.
There was a soft scrabbling noise almost immediately, and I felt Finn poke me in the shoulder. "Kurt." It was a barely there whisper eerily reminiscent of his voice last night.
"What?" I tried to sound as encouraging as possible.
"Uh…can I sleep with you again, tonight? Please?" He sounded embarrassed, but hopeful.
There was a dozen reasons why that was a bad idea, starting with the fact that my bed was too small, and ending with my crush on him, but I had never been able to deny Finn anything, so I nodded and held up the covers. He had apparently been waiting for it, because he already had his pillow and his lion ready, and snuggled under the blanket, his body going limp almost immediately. "Thanks. You're really awesome."
"No problem." I was trying to ignore how natural this felt. Finn's body was warm against mine, and, even though I was trying my best not to touch and scare him, our legs were all tangled up, and I just knew I was going to wake up snuggling against him again.
So what? He didn't mind last time, and he's not going to mind this time. You think too much. Just enjoy having Finn close, and imagine how easy this could all be if you would just let it.
Finn fell asleep in the time it took me to have that mental debate, his body reflexively cuddling closer to me. I decided to take my mental voice's advice and just go for it. After all, what was the worst that could happen?