"There are no facts, only interpretations."

Friedrich Nietzsche

The car ride to the station was very quiet. None of us knew what to say to Finn, and he was busy playing his DS with his iPod buds jammed in his ears. It was a pretty clear 'leave me alone', and none of the rest of us had any idea what was appropriate to say, if anything. Besides, he seemed fine, bobbing his head contentedly along with the music.

It was close to a 20 minute drive, and Dad and Carole stopped looking in the rearview mirror after the first five. Since I was sitting in the back with Finn, I had a clear view of what he was doing, and I could see that his little man had died 12 times in 7 minutes, which I was pretty sure wasn't a good thing. So I stretched my right arm out, resting my hand on my knee with the palm facing upwards. Without even glancing over, Finn put his hand in mine. Despite his outward calm, his skin was cold and clammy, and I could feel his hand trembling against mine. I squeezed once, and he gave me a weak squeeze back.

Officer Logan was waiting at the door of the police station. "Hi, Finn." He nodded at the rest of us. "And hello to the rest of the Hudson-Hummel family." I liked that he addressed Finn first, which I knew would make my brother feel special.

Then there was nothing to do but wait. I pulled a magazine and some of Finn's schoolwork out of my messenger bag, and corrected quietly, grateful for the banality of correcting comma splices (and inserting periods, dear God, how had he made it to his sophomore year?) instead of thinking about rape and torture. Carole looked over at what I was doing. "Kurt, you don't have to do that. It's your summer break, after all, and you shouldn't be wasting it doing homework. Here, let me do it for you."

I wanted to jealously clutch the papers, but I understood that she needed something as well. "I'm fine with his English, but can you take the algebra? I hated it when I was going through it, and I hate watching Finn struggle."

She looked over the page, one eyebrow raising. "I didn't have to do any of this until college."

That, naturally, was Dad's cue to look himself, though I thought he was less interested in Finn's homework, and more interested in doing the old 'fake a stretch so I can lean over and put an arm around her' trick. Oh, Dad, you are so far beyond high school. He looked over the sheet. "I don't think he understood the assignment."

Carole sighed. "He never does. Finn's….he's not stupid, his IQ's been tested, but he has to know how it works in the real world. Just showing him a line on a graph and saying 'it works because it does' isn't enough. If I were to try and explain that you need to know how to set the slope of a line because that's how you determine how to lay out a building, for example, he gets that. If he can do it hands-on, it's even better. "

"Kinetic learner." I said it less because I didn't think she knew, and more because I didn't want them to forget I was there entirely, which might lead to Dad's hands going lower then her shoulders. As much as I liked Carole, that was a big no, not to mention disgusting.

"Yes. When you explain it right, he gets things really well, but you have to do it just right. They wanted to try sending him to a charter school in 6th grade, but he cried when I wanted to send him away from his friends, and I couldn't really afford it anyway, so we never followed through." She looked like she might say more, but abruptly changed her mind. "I'll go over it with him again."

"It's ok, Carole, I can do it. I've always gotten A's in math." And everything else, with the sole exception of physical education, because Kurt Hummel does not sweat. I had to have good grades, because I was not going to be stuck in this cow town for the rest of my life. Dad's garage did not make enough to send me to New York, and I was not about to sacrifice my dreams because I couldn't get a scholarship. "The two of us have a system worked out."

The system involved copious amounts of chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and I suddenly realized I was making this sound so much kinkier and more fun then it actually was. It was just that Finn was very, very motivated by food, just like the lab next door. And the only way I had stopped Max from jumping on me and getting my clothing dirty was by throwing him a treat every time I saw him coming. The same principal worked with Finn, and who, by the way, could now write a halfway decent essay on Shakespeare, though his citing still needed work, not to mention correctly fill out a map of both the United States and Europe, including capitals. Whenever he got it right, I gave him a snack. Plus, he made this really cute little noise when he did so, a sound halfway between a hum and a purr. It was one of the only times I heard Finn make sounds at all, so I treasured it. But things were different now. He could talk, and he could tell them everything.

Hopefully.

Yes, hopefully. I shifted the papers and started over, this time just reading his paper from start to finish. I know, I probably should have done that from the beginning, but I hadn't felt like that was enough to distract me from the reality of what was happening just down the hall. The book was Ethan Fromme, which I'm sure he chose solely on its short length.

Actually, the essay, which was about the perversion (though of course he didn't use the word perversion. I'm sure he doesn't realize that the word has more then one meaning, and it doesn't have to be sexual) of the typical fairy tale wasn't half bad. It was…actually, it was pretty good. Not spectacular, but B+ work at the very least, possibly A worthy considering it was Finn.

He had managed to plan the essay out, mostly because I had helped him with the outline, he had cited things in the required three ways, and he had actually come up with some pretty darn good ideas. They weren't as fleshed out as I would have done, but it was a good effort none the less.

I was correcting yet another rambling sentence when I saw Officer Logan coming down the hall. We all rose, but Finn wasn't with him. This was bad. There hadn't been nearly enough time for him to tell them everything that had happened, or really anything that had happened. He had choked.

The man sat down, and, for the first time, I realized how young he was. He couldn't be that much older then Finn and I, certainly less then 25. It was strange to think that in a few years, I would be this man (though much better dressed, of course). I would have a job, and bills to pay, and maybe someone special to come home to at night. And Finn would be…what would Finn be? At school? Working? Still at home? Would this have ruined him, or would he still find it in him to fight?

Have a little faith in him.

Before any of us could speak, Officer Logan held up a hand. "Finn's doing great, but he needs a break right now. One of the other officers is sitting with him, but I think he might like to see his family."

"Of course." We were led down the hall, to a room that looked like it was better suited to try and break the alibis of child molesters and murderers then convince one teenage boy to talk. It was gross, and smelled like disinfectant and pee, and there was nothing about it that screamed 'tell me your secrets!'

I didn't want to believe that this was it, but there Finn was, sitting quietly at the table. He wasn't crying, he didn't appear upset, he just looked…empty. Right now, Finn looked exactly the way he had the day I found him sitting on my front porch. Like he had hit his breaking point, and then been pushed 10 feet beyond it.

Carole went to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, but he didn't really respond. That was like before, too. I scratched his back, feeling the dampness of his T-shirt. Finn was terrified. "How are you holding up, Cowboy?"

"Good." His voice was soft and raspy, but calm. "I'm holding up really good."

"Well." The correction was automatic, and it made a tense little smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm holding up really well. This is good practice. I mean, I'm going to have to get up in that courtroom and talk in front of 12 judges and a jury and everything, so I better get used to it. You know, I want to do it right."

I hadn't thought that far ahead. To be honest, I hadn't thought about the trial at all. Or would it be trials? The crimes had been committed in two different states, across the country from one another. It suddenly seemed likely that Finn was going to be required to go back there, where most of the trauma had taken place. "You will."

"He's not here. Joseph, I mean." He hurried to clarify at my questioning look. "You know, I don't even know what his last name is? I guess I could ask. But he's not here. He's still in New Mexico, and he's in jail there."

There was a strange quality to his words, almost is if they were a chant, or spell. Without warning, I was transported back to being 5 years old, and convinced that there were flying monkeys waiting outside my window. I just knew that the minute my parents stepped out, they would sneak in through the window and fly away with me. Even now, I could feel the suffocating weight of the comforter over my head and remember the words racing through my brain. It's ok, it's ok. I'm safe here. The flying monkeys are in Oz, not Lima. I'm safe here. I'm safe, I'm safe. In Finn's eerily calm voice, I heard the undercurrent of my own panicked repetitions. Joseph was still in New Mexico, the flying monkeys were still in Oz, and Finn and I were both still afraid.

Carole smoothed her fingers through his hair, nodding slightly. "Yes, he's still in New Mexico." Her voice was calm and soothing, telling me that she knew Finn's fears as well as I did, and I felt a sudden pang in my chest. I could remember that tone, one that seemed universal to mothers, so clearly. I missed my Mom.

I know you do. The voice was sympathetic, and it threw me for a minute. That voice was never nice to me. It was always nasty, and cruel, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of this sudden change of heart.

I'm not nasty or cruel. I'm honest. You're the one who has trouble being honest with yourself. I'm you, so of course I have sympathy for what makes you feel sad or hurt. I miss our Mom, too, you know.

That statement, simple and heartfelt, nearly brought me to tears. Luckily, I was saved that humiliation by Officer Logan appearing with a very familiar white paper bag. He held it out, and Finn's eyes lit up. "I had one of the guys sneak over to McDonalds and get you some fries and a coke." Then he shot the rest of us a guilty look. "I mean, if it's ok with your Mom and stepfather."

Dad wasn't Finn's stepfather, not technically, but I was pretty sure that that didn't matter now. After everything we had been through in less then a year, meeting, moving in, losing Finn, getting Finn back, it was almost inconceivable that Dad and Carole wouldn't end up getting married. Surprisingly, I was ok with that. I liked Carole, and I loved Finn, and, between the four of us, we stood a decent chance of making a family. Not a normal one, but a family, none the less.

All you need is love. I swear there was a tiny smirk accompanying those words.

"Love is just a game." I didn't realize I had spoken out loud until Finn's back tensed up under my hand.

"No, it isn't." Finn's voice was nearly as soft as mine. "Trust me, it's not."

I patted him one more time. "No, you're right. I was just caught up in my thoughts. Have you ever seen the movie Moulan Rouge?" I was pretty sure that he hadn't, but I didn't want to leave him on a bad note.

His face scrunched. "Is that the one where Nicole Kidman's a hooker and you think it's going to be awesome and you'll see her boobs, but then she hacks her guts out and dies?"

Dad gave a completely ungraceful snort that he tried to cover with his hand. Unsuccessfully, I might add. Both Carole and I glared at him, but he still couldn't get rid of the grin. "Yes, son, that's the one."

"But…oh!" Now he looked ridiculously pleased with himself, so much like his old self that I felt that pang again. "I know, that's from that song in the movie! Love is just a game. It's what Ewan McGregor sang. I know cause Rach made me listen to the soundtrack like a million times."

Now all three adults were staring at us like we had lost our minds. No doubt, they were wondering how Finn could have pulled that from one quote, and me asking if he had ever seen a movie that had come out an entire decade ago, when we were just kids. One of us, (and by one of us, I meant me, because Finn wasn't exactly good at explaining things. Even now that he was talking, it was sort of hit and miss. Mostly miss.) was going to have to explain that it was a Glee thing, outsiders just didn't understand.

It seemed like too much work to explain that, though, so I just smiled and shrugged, making sure to nod at Finn. He was calm again, totally pleased with himself, and it looked like a good time for us to leave. I stroked his back one last time. "Think you can keep going now?"

"Yes." He looked over the people in the room, then tugged me down so he could whisper in my ear. "Make your Dad stand outside the door, please."

I whispered back. "Right now? Is there something you want to tell us?"

He glanced over quickly and shook his head. "No, after you guys leave. Make him stand outside the door so no one can come in without him seeing them. You know, just in case."

Well. That was an interesting change from his previous behavior, when he had been sure that Dad was the one out to get him. Now, suddenly, Dad was the one who was going to protect him. I wasn't sure if that pointed towards Finn being more accepting of Dad, or just that Finn had decided Dad was the far lesser of two evils. I leaned down to Finn's ear again. "I will."

"Thanks." He sat back up and nodded bravely at Officer Logan. "Did you get ketchup?"

I could hear the officer laughing as we left the room, assuring Finn that he wouldn't forget something as important as ketchup. I stopped Dad right outside the door. "Finn wants you to stay outside the door and keep watch."

He positioned himself without hesitation, though he looked a bit confused. "Did he say what I'm supposed to be watching for?"

"The boogyman, I think." The words were sarcastic, but my tone was anything but. There was nothing for Finn to be afraid of. At least not logically. Joseph was in jail across the country. Finn was surrounded by police, all of whom would relish the chance to hurt a man who had victimized someone the way Finn had been victimized.

Really? You can't think of someone else that Finn might be afraid of? Someone that was right there the entire time, and played her own part in hurting him?

Lily. I suddenly realized that no one had so much as mentioned her, except Finn. Was she in jail, too? Or was she out there, somewhere, waiting to tie up the last few loose ends, namely Finn? My teeth worried at my lower lip. "Maybe he's afraid of Lily."

"Who's Lily?" Now Dad was completely confused, and I realized that Carole had kept Finn's confidences as well as I had. "Kurt, I think you need to start talking."

For a second I was torn, but this was more important then my whispered promise to Finn. And, anyway, I hadn't promised him that I wouldn't tell anyone about Lily. I had just promised him that I wouldn't tell anyone about what had happened during his rape, and that was a secret that I was going to keep. "Lily's his wife."

"I'm guessing you don't mean Finn's wife." His jaw was clenching in a way that I knew meant he wanted to hit someone.

"No, his. Josephs. I don't know if she got arrested, too and neither does he. Maybe he's afraid she'll come back."

"How could any woman…." He trailed off, because there was no real answer to that. At least none that I had managed to come up with in the past 48 hours.

People expected a certain amount of aggression and predatory behavior from men. Men are rapists, men are scary, men are criminals. Women are nurturing and loving. A woman wouldn't kill and rape a child. It just wasn't done.

Yes, it is. True, women are more likely to kill their own child, but Finn's hardly a child any more, now is he? Physically, he's a man, and, in less then a year, he'll legally be one, too. Lily didn't see a child when she looked at him, she saw an attractive man. That doesn't make it right, but don't claim that it doesn't happen. Women are just as capable of being predators as men are.

I guessed, but it was always a male pervert kidnapping someone. Women didn't just do it on their own.

She wasn't on her own. Karla Homolka and Paul Bernardo. Myra Hindley and Ian Brady. Fred and Rosemary West. All male-female pairs who committed kidnapping, torture, and murder. Finn was just luckier that he got away. And even that follows a pattern. When a victim escapes a pair like this, it's almost always because the female takes pity on them and lets them go.

I felt dizzy, but I made myself be strong. "Lily was there, and she did…things, that were just as bad as Joseph. Is she in jail?" I didn't know why I bothered asking, since up until 15 seconds ago, he hadn't known that Lily existed.

"I hope so. " He squeezed me, then leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "Look, I'll stay here, and you go sit with Carole. She needs you right now."

This was an odd moment in our (admittedly short) family history. Dad was supporting Finn, while I supported Carole. Odd, but good. I put one arm around her. "I love you."

It hadn't been what I planned on saying, but it was true. She leaned down and kissed the top of my head, allowing me to put my head on her shoulder. "I love you, too, baby."

We sat like that for the next hour. While Dad stood guard down the hall and Finn told the detectives everything. Or at least the Finn Hudson version of everything. I was sure that he was leaving some things out, despite me telling him not to. Still, I understood that he was humiliated enough, having to tell them about the rape and everything, but he had to be completely honest. There were going to be attorneys just waiting for the slightest indication that he was lying or holding something back. They were like sharks, and Finn was nothing but a little bunny with a hurt, bleeding, leg.

After an eternity, the door opened and Finn came out, looking pale and scared, but completely dry eyed. This time there were four officers with him, two dressed in blue, two in an olive green that did nothing for their (or anyone's) complexions. He sat down next to his mother and pressed his face against her arm, rubbing against her like a miserable, 6'3, cat. I was pretty sure that the Texas Roadhouse was now out, as was Finn doing anything else that required actual thought for the next few days.

One of the green officers held out a hand. "I'm Officer Ready of the Silver City, New Mexico police. Mr. and Mrs. Hudson, I presume?"

For a second, we all froze, including Finn, who turned his head very slightly to glare at Dad through half-closed eyes. They had made a little progress, but not enough that he was comfortable with claiming Dad as his father. Or, more likely, Finn was just asserting the fact that he had more claim on Carole then Dad did, at least for the moment.

Carole stepped in to smooth the moment over. "I'm Mrs. Hudson. This is my boyfriend Burt Hummel, and his son Kurt."

If the man was taken aback, he hid it well. "Alright then, Mrs. Hudson, the Mr. Hummel's. My partner and I are here to determine if a crime was committed against Finn in our jurisdiction, and where the trials, if there are to be more then one will take place. We figured this was easier then flying Finn to us."

Wait, what did if a crime was committed against Finn, mean? Multiple crimes had been committed, without any doubt. What had Finn been telling them in there? "What do you mean, if?

For a second, I though the words had come out of my own mouth, but then I realized that it had been Carole speaking. "Are you saying that Finn's lying about what happened?"

"Not at all. Actually, I believe his version of events completely. The problem is, I have a man in jail who's telling me a completely different story, which means I have to speak to Finn and get his take on what happened."

"What did he say happened?" Finn was peeking up now, obviously agitated.

They exchanged a quick look, saying things that I couldn't understand, then hesitated. I gripped Finn's hand, knowing that whatever they said was going to be bad. "According to Mr. Wright, they picked Finn up hitchhiking, and took him home with them when they found out he had nowhere to stay. He claims that Finn, who he knew as 'Jeremy', was a full and willing participant in a sexual relationship with both Mr. and Mrs. Wright."

Carole gasped and Finn jerked like he had been shocked with a cattle prod. "That isn't true! He's lying! I didn't….I didn't want to." What had started out as a shout trailed down into a mournful whimper. "Mom, he's lying."

She squeezed him tightly. "I know, I know." There was a fire in her eyes and I had a sudden swelling of pity for those cops. Mama bear was out to play, and she was taking no prisoners. "No matter what that, that, that, bastard says happened; Finn is only 17 years old! He's not capable of giving consent. But it doesn't matter, because my son is telling the truth."

"Actually, 17 is the age of consent in New Mexico, which is why we're in a grey area. Finn isn't sure when the rape took place, which means we don't know whether he was 16 or 17 when it happened."

"Rape is rape." Dad's voice was soft, but it made all of us look. "It doesn't matter if Finn is 7, or 17, or 27. They took him, which is a crime in itself, and they raped him, period. He said no, that man kept going. Isn't that the definition of rape?"

"Did you say no, Finn?" Officer Ready looked like he wished he was anywhere but here, having to ask these obviously painful questions.

My brother looked down. "I can't remember."

The lie was obvious, and my heart turned a summersault in my chest. Finn hadn't said no. Not that I though he had wanted it, because I didn't. I'm sure he had failed to say no because he had known that it didn't matter. It would happen whether he spoke or not, and he was trying desperately to stay on Joseph's good side.

"It's alright, Finn, the important thing is that you don't try and lie to me. Based on what you told me, both Joseph and Lily are going to be charged with multiple crimes. This means that there's going to be a trial in New Mexico, as well as in Lima. Look, I believe you, ok? Josephs a grade A creep, and we're looking at him for a host of other crimes. Best case scenario is that he takes a plea bargain and you don't have to testify at all."

"What does he get charged with? Like, how many things? Is it a lot, because he should get charged with a lot. Like a hundred different things. Or maybe two hundred." His eyes were dark and angry, and it made me wonder what Finn had left out of his story to me.

"What we have is kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, child molestation, rape, rape of a minor if applicable, inciting terror, and anything else I can think up. Multiple counts of some of them." I liked Officer Ready, and the way he was trying to set Finn at ease.

"How long will he have to stay in jail?" Finn must have found strength somewhere, because he was sitting up perfectly straight, his eyes locked on the police officers. "Is it going to be forever?"

"It might be longer. He's being charged with capital murder in Lima, which means you might not have to testify at all. If he's sentenced to death here, it might be overkill to hold a second trial in New Mexico."

Finn nodded, and I could see the spark of hope in his eyes. Then it dimmed and died out. "What about her? Lily?"

Both officers flinched. "Mrs. Wright wasn't arrested. We didn't have anything to charge her with, and therefore there our hands were tied. With what you've told us, we're already getting a warrant for her arrest also."

No, that wasn't the truth. The truth was, that no one wanted to believe that a woman would hurt a boy like that. Even Dad had been shocked at the thought. Furthermore, I was sure that there were plenty of people who wouldn't believe that it could happen. After all, she had managed to get him hard, so he must have liked it. In other words, Finn had been asking for it.

My stomach rolled at the thought, and I wondered what was going to happen to Finn if he found the courage to testify, and no one believed him. He was hanging on by a thread right now, and I didn't want anything to happen that might sever that tiny connection. He gave the officer a hopeful. "And she'll go to jail, too?"

"Yes. She'll be put in jail, too, and we're going to conduct a second search of the house, this time looking for things that might incriminate her, also." The officer was trying, but I could tell that he was nervous around Finn. Whether it was specifically my crush, or just a generally wariness of teenage boys, I couldn't tell. What I could tell, was that Finn was confused by what he had said.

I tapped his shoulder. "What he means is that when the first searched the house, they were only looking for evidence that you had been there. Now they'll be looking for evidence of sexual assault"- I pretended not to notice the way Finn flinched when I said that "-by either one of them."

"Oh." He turned back to the officer. "Will you call when she gets arrested? Even if it's really, really late? Because I want to know as soon as she's in jail."

We would all breathe easier when that was the case, but I could help but be surprised at how worried Finn suddenly seemed. Or maybe he had been that worried all along, and just couldn't express it correctly.

"Absolutely. We have your home phone, but do you have a cell phone number I could try as well?"

Bingo. When he offered that, Finn's entire face lit up in an adorable smile. In that moment, I knew that he would do whatever the officers asked of him, because they had earned his trust. Even now, all it usually took was a kind word and some attention, and Finn would melt for anyone.

Well, for policemen, at least. Other men, including Dad, were still considered to be the spawn of Satan, or maybe the horned guy himself. He scrawled down both his mother's number and mine, holding it back out. Officer Ready nodded. "The warrant should go out shortly, and, provided everything goes to plan, we should have an arrest by tonight."

"You'll call, even if it's late? Because I'm going to wait up." Finn was totally fixated on the man.

"How's this: I call after we leave the house, whether we made an arrest or not. Then you don't have to sit up and worry in case she isn't home." The second officer, the one who hadn't been named, spoke up.

"Yeah, that's smart. But you'll call, right? You have to, you said you would." He was starting to lose control, the stress and worry of the day getting to him. He had held up with rare skill and stubbornness, but he was emotionally finished.

The unnamed officer pulled a card out of his pocked and scrawled a number on the back. "Ok, this is my personal cell phone. If I haven't called you by five, you call me."

Finn clutched the card like it was the Hope diamond or a particularly fierce pair of Gucci shoes. " Thanks." He signed the words as he said them, something I sometimes caught him doing. He did it less when it was just the two of us and more when he started getting stressed out. But I had noticed that he didn't talk very much when it was just him and me, either. It wasn't that we didn't communicate, because we did. It was just that we didn't seem to need words or signs to do it. I just got him, probably because I had spent so much time with him, reading his body language, since he came back.

Uh-huh, I'm sure that's it.

That voice needed to die, now. Just because I had a small (very small!), slightly inappropriate crush on Finn, it didn't mean anything. I had fully accepted that nothing would happen between us, and I was working on getting over him. And anyway, that crush, and the subsequent hours I had spent memorizing his every more, had proven themselves to be very helpful

"Is there anything else that we can help you guys with?" Dad was clearly eager to get out of this police station, and get Finn safely home.

"Unless there's something else that Finn would like to tell us?" We all looked over at Finn, who was looking at the floor.

To my surprise, he nodded, but didn't say anything. I gave him a gentle nudge. "Finn?"

"I just wanted to say that I wish that both of them were dead, and that Puck wasn't." He whispered the words, like he was saying something wrong.

Looking at his downcast eyes, I suddenly wondered if he had ever truly hated anyone before. Probably not, or he wouldn't be so ashamed of the feeling now. Fresh tears threatened at the thought of how naïve Finn had really been, and the fact that he would never be that way again. "I do, too."

He gave me a tentative smile, his small 'thank you'. Dad nodded. "I think we all do, Finn."

"Ok, I'm done now." He actually yawned, like the day had worn him out and he was ready to get back in bed. I had to fight an urge to reach out for him, and kiss his worries away.

Officer Ready raised one hand, like he wanted to pat Finn's back or something, but he thought better of it and dropped it back to his side. That was probably a good idea, since Finn didn't care much for being touched these days, especially by strangers. "Finn, we'll call you, ok?"

"Yeah." He gave himself a visible shake and looked up. "I mean, yes, I'll be waiting."

Carole gave me a look that I had no trouble reading. It was a classic 'Kurt, go take Finn out to the car right now, before something goes wrong' look. Then I was disturbed because I had never seen that particular look from Carole before. Slowly but surely, we were becoming a family. I shook my head to clear it. There would be plenty of time to obsess over that later. "Come on, Finn. We're going to wait in the car."

He came along readily, probably more then ready to get the smell of urine and decaying concrete out of his nose. Dad had tossed me the keys, so I turned on the air conditioning and gave Finn a smile that I didn't actually feel. "So, you did it! Joseph's still in jail, Lily's going to get arrested, and you'll be able to breathe easier now."

"Yeah. I can breathe now." He picked up the DS and turned it on, but didn't start playing. Instead he laid his head on my shoulder, the rest of his body going limp. "I can breathe."

Only he couldn't. Oh, he was doing just fine with the in and out, I could feel the air across my collarbones, but there was still a tension in his every move and gesture, all the signs of someone who was just barely holding himself together.

I didn't know how to comfort him. With Finn, the carefully laid down lines of behavior had wavered and blurred until I had no idea what might and might not be appropriate to do. Could I hug him? Yes. Would he snuggle? He was doing it right now. Would he accept a kiss or a declaration of undying love? Not likely.

So there's absolutely nothing between letting him rest with you for a few minutes and planning out your wedding? God, Kurt, you're acting like the worlds come to an end.

Maybe for Finn it had, but then, maybe not. He was getting better, even if it was in fits and starts, and I had to keep reminding myself of that. Tentatively, I ran my fingers through his hair, which made him sigh softly. Good, this was acceptable to him. He let me do that for a few minutes before he seemed to relax and let go of the last of his worries. Then he twisted and whispered into my ear. "Can you ask your Dad to take us to lunch? If I ask, he'll say no. But if you do it, he has to say yes."

Dad was never going to believe that I wanted to eat at a steakhouse. "I will, but he would say yes if you asked him, too. He loves you, Finn."

That was enough to earn a soft snort. "I know he does. But if I ask him to take me out somewhere fancy, then I owe him. And I'm not going to owe him anything." His voice had turned hard.

Something important was happening here, if only I could see it. "First of all, Texas Roadhouse is not 'fancy'. Second, you wouldn't owe Dad anything. He'll feed us because he loves us, and because that's what parents do. But, if it's important to you, I'll be the one who asks." My stomach rolled over at the thought of what sort of favor Finn thought that Dad might require of him.

"It is." That apparently ended the conversation, because he picked up his game and started playing. Then he muttered. "Thanks, Kurt. Love you."

Every time I thought I had Finn figured out, he managed to shock me again. "Excuse me?"

He looked up. "Thanks Kurt. Love you." This time he spoke very distinctly, like he thought my hearing was the issue, rather then what was coming out of his mouth.

"I heard you the first time." I could tell he was about to ask me why I had asked him to repeat himself, so I held up a hand to stop him. "Why would you tell me that you love me?"

"Cause I do." He was pretending that he was still playing, but his character wasn't moving. He was focused on me, instead, studying me through lowered eyelids.

"You love me." I was proud that my voice didn't betray my clenching stomach and suddenly aching head. "I guess that's good. Because if things keep going the way they have been, you and I are going to be brothers. It's good for brothers to love each other, as long as you remember that love the first time I do something that really pisses you off."

His eyes narrowed, and my stomach rolled over again. Finn was serious about what he had said, and he didn't like me making light of it. But I couldn't take that risk. Finn wasn't gay, or bi, or even slightly interested in men. He loved boobies and lots of them. His porn was all….actually; I guessed I had never actually seen his porn. I had never had the courage to look inside the box, and he had taken it and shoved it under his bed, where, to the best of my knowledge, it still was. Maybe Finn was curious. Maybe Finn could want me back.

I waited expectantly, but the voice was silent. Why was it always giving me advice when I didn't want it, but, when I desperately needed it, it was quiet? I couldn't figure this out on my own.

But I was on my own right now, so I took a deep, cleansing, breath. "That's what you mean, isn't it?"

He was holding the cards now; it was all up to him. My heart was thudding like crazy and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. Finn looked up, and he was so tentative that it almost broke my heart. "Is it what you want me to mean?"

Nice try. "I asked you first." Dear God, did I really plan on getting myself into an adult relationship by acting like an eight year old?

"Mom." He looked past me and I realized that both of our parents were standing outside the car. Shit, I had waited too long.

Finn, however, looked relieved as they climbed into the car. Dad held out his hand and I tossed him the keys. "Are you boys ready to go home?"

"Actually, I would like to go out to lunch. Can we go to the Texas Roadhouse?" The bitchy part of me wanted to say nothing and just let Dad take us home, but that wasn't fair to Finn. Confusing, confusing, uncertain, sweet, sexy, straight, Finn.

"You want to go to the Texas Roadhouse? The last time we went there, you left pictures of cholesterol filled hearts and quadruple bypass surgeries around the house for weeks." Dad's gaze met mine in the rearview mirror and I cut my eyes over at Finn.

He nodded, telling me that he got it. "Well, if you guys are up to going out to lunch, how would you feel about a road trip to Canton? I have part I was planning on picking up today, but since we had to go to the police station, my plans sidetracked. Carole? Do you have any plans for today?"

She shook her head and turned to Finn. "What about it, Sweetie? Do you feel up to going for a ride?"

"Yeah." It was whispered but clear. He was holding tightly to his game, but he was willing to take the chance and trust that Dad wasn't going to take him anywhere dangerous. "If we can get lunch, too. And I can stay in the car when Mr. Hummel gets the part."

"Deal. And you can feel free to pick the restaurant. Kurt can have Texas Roadhouse another time."

When Finn smiled, I knew that this was going to be ok. The trip to Canton, that was. What was happening between him and I was entirely different, and not even remotely likely to end up alright, but that was another problem for another day. "Ok."

Then he settled back down with his DS, looking for all the world like he was completely lost in the game. He wasn't though. In fact, he gave it about five minutes and gently poked me in the side. I looked up from my copy of French Vogue. "What?"

"We'll talk about it tonight, ok?" He didn't bother to clarify what 'it' was, because we both already knew. 'It', the fact that Finn told me he loved me, and maybe he did and maybe he didn't, but the thought of either one being true made me nauseous. I loved Finn, I would always love Finn, but that didn't mean that I was good for him, or that he was good for me. What if we tried something, and it was horrible and I would have ended up not only breaking my heart and his, but getting Carole and Dad hurt was well?

Whine, whine, whine. All I hear for almost two years is how much you want Finn Hudson, and now that you have a chance to get him, you've turned to second guessing. Man up!

Oh, so now that voice could speak up. Not when it might have actually done me some good, but now that the crisis was over and I didn't need it any more. Still, manning up was a pretty good suggestion, even if I was loathe to admit that that voice ever had any halfway decent advice. "Alright, we'll talk about it tonight." Hopefully with Finn in his bed and me in mine.

Really? Do you really want that sexy thing to get spooked and crawl back into his own bed? Because I think you like having him close.

I did. I liked his smell, and the soft, mumbled, conversations he had with himself all night long, and the way he would lay his arm across my back sometime after I fell asleep. I liked waking up with my head on his chest, feeling his heart thump against me, and knowing that I could have lost him forever, but didn't. The problem was, I liked it way too much. I should be thankful that Finn sleeps so deeply, because it was a constant struggle to keep my body from doing something very foolish. Especially when I remembered the way he had stared this morning when he broke into the bathroom and- I looked down and hurriedly dropped my magazine into my lap. Bad cock, get down!

I shot a quick, worried, glance over at Finn, but he hadn't noticed. He was too busy shaking his iPod, like that would make anything happen. I took it and backed it out of the playlist that he always got stuck on, no matter how many times I fixed it for him. Still, the way he smiled gratefully back made my heart jump every time. "Thanks, Bro."

So now it was bro? One minute we were bros, the next he wanted something more, and there were still times when he didn't want anything to do with me or anyone else. Even if the answer was 'no, Kurt, I don't think of you like that', at least I would know for sure.

Maybe he's confused. After all, you aren't exactly being clear about your intentions either. Over the past few weeks I've heard 'Finn, we're getting too close', 'Finn, I'll listen to anything you tell me', 'Of course you can get in bed with me, Finn' and 'Finn, we need a break from each other'. I think your signals are nearly as mixed as his. Besides, there's no point in worrying about it now. Finn said that the two of you would talk, so just let it go for now. Enjoy the trip.

Oh, yes, the family trip we were suddenly needing to embark on. Why Dad thought that any of us wanted to come was a mystery, but Finn had actually agreed to leave the house, if not the car, and that was progress, right?

Of course it is. Finn's a fighter, even if he sometimes has to be reminded of that fact. Now sit back and enjoy the ride. After all, this might be the last nice family moment the four of you have for a while.

That didn't bode well.