Kurt POV
Finn is safe. No matter what else happened, I could hold on to the fact that he was safe right now, and on his way over. Believe it or not, Puck had managed to come through for me. While I was still trembling from the worry and fear of it all, my phone rang again.
It was Dad. I had a moment of indecision about whether or not I should answer, but my loyalty to him won out. "Hello?"
"Hey son. We didn't find Finn, and we're giving up for the moment. We're going to come home and regroup, then figure out where he could possibly be. None of his friends will admit to having him, but he's not anywhere else."
There was no way I could keep the truth from them, even if I had wanted to. "I know where he is. Puck found him and he's bringing him here." I heard two gasps, so he must have had Carol on speakerphone.
"Kurt, when did he call you and tell you this?" Dad was pissed off with me, but trying to hide it.
"About 2 minutes ago. When I called him earlier, he said he could find Finn, but I didn't think he could actually do it." I decided it was probably a good idea to leave out the fact that Finn was currently, in Pucks words 'drunk off his ass.'
Dad sighed. "Alright, we're coming back to the house, then. Just keep him there and keep him quiet. We'll be there in 15 minutes."
Puck would be here in less then 5. That gave me time to get Finn inside, assess what was wrong with him, and gently break the news that I had ratted him out to his mother, the one person he was hiding from.
You can't leave her out of the loop, Kurt. No matter how pissed off he is right now, she's his mother, and she loves him. You can't leave her to think that he's alone outside in this cold, or someone is hurting him, or he's lost entirely. Finn will understand, he's never liked hurting people.
What Finn may or may not think had suddenly become immaterial, because I heard Puck's car in the drive. I knew it was his, because the damn thing had needed a new muffler for about a year and a half now, and he never got it done. Maybe, when all this was over, I could offer him free labor for the job, as a thank you for bringing Finn home.
A flurry of taps sounded on the door and I raced to it, only to find Puck alone on the other side. "Where is he?" Normally I would have been more cautious with Puck, but, damn it, I wanted Finn.
"In the car. I told him that I was going to make sure he wasn't walking into an ambush with his Mom and your Dad, but I mostly just wanted a chance to talk to you first. How much do you know?"
For a second, I was thrown by his candor and lack of insults. "About what happened? Just that he and Carol fought, and Finn bolted. I don't know what they were fighting about, or where he went after."
Puck nodded, then shook his head. "It's really bad, Kurt, maybe the worst thing he's ever gone through, and that includes me and Quinn. He's going to have to tell you about it himself, but you need to be there for him. Also, he somehow managed to get a hold of an entire bottle of Jack Daniels and drink most of it. I think I got him to puke it up, but you need to make him drink, because he's dehydrated as shit now." He handed me a blue bottle. "He's had two already, but definitely get him to drink this, too. The more liquid you can get into him, the better, so if you have some Gatorade, great, if not, just give him water. I'm trusting you with him right now, Hummel, so don't do anything to betray that trust." He rubbed a hand over his Mohawk, obviously uncomfortable. "I'll go get him now." He took a few steps, then turned around. "Oh, and he hasn't brushed his teeth since he puked, so I wouldn't be kissing him any time soon."
That might have been the most Noah Puckerman had ever said to me, and certainly the most he had ever said without using the words 'gay', 'fag', or 'girl' to reference me. Would wonders never cease?
Then the rest of what he had said sunk in. Puck knew that I was kissing Finn. He knew that it had gone beyond a crush on my part, and that Finn was gay, too. Or bisexual, I guess would be the correct term. Why wasn't he screaming about my turning Finn into a fag, or hitting me? None of this made sense.
My thoughts were cut off, though by the sight of Puck dragging a too tall figure out of the passenger side of the car. Finn was stumbling a little, though whether it was from him still being drunk or just exhaustion, I couldn't tell. Puck nudged him into my arms, and he dropped his head into my neck, breathing hard. "Ok, I'm leaving you two now. Finn, I'll see you."
Then he was gone, and the noise of his truck was fading into the distance. I stroked Finn's back, noticing that he hadn't moved a bit, even when Puck told him goodbye. He was only wearing a sweatshirt, no jacket, and I could feel the chill of his skin. "Come on, Cowboy, let's get inside."
He backed up, but only enough so we could maneuver inside. "Downstairs?" He nodded against me. I kept talking to him, because his silence was starting to freak me out. What if he was having an actual nervous breakdown and I was only making things worse?
You aren't making things worse. If he is having a nervous breakdown, and I somehow doubt that he is, then the best thing for him is to be with the people who love him, and, right now, that's you. So just be with the poor boy for a few minutes, and try and sort things out later.
It was good advice, and I gave in to Finn's obvious need to be close to and touch me. "Come on, Baby, you can come sit with me on the bed."
In complete defiance of physics, Finn managed to curl around me, his face still in my neck, and take up the tiniest amount of space on the bed I had ever seen. Usually, he sprawled out, but not tonight. I ran my fingers through his hair and down his back, feeling completely helpless. "Tell me what to do, Finn."
He breathed out against my neck a few times, the air hot compared to his chilly skin. "You're good."
I took that to mean that he liked both the backrub, and me not talking too much. He tended to get overwhelmed when you launched one question at him after another, without giving him any time to process or think, so I kept quiet.
Don't you think there's something else you ought to tell him? Like maybe that the ambush Puck was so worried about is already on its way?
Shit. I couldn't not tell him, though. "Finn? Sweetheart, can you look at me?"
He didn't respond, and if it hadn't been for the lingering tightness in all of his muscles, I would have thought he was asleep. "Please."
Nothing. I pushed on anyway, because I didn't want him to ever feel like I lied to him. "Your mother and my father are on their way."
His head snapped up, and I could see real fear in his eyes. "No." His entire body started to shake. "I don't want to see her, make her go away."
What in the world had happened between them? Finn's trust in me was heartbreakingly complete, even if it was terribly misplaced. How was I supposed to stand up to both my father and Finn's own mother and tell them how to take care of him?
You better figure it out fast, because they'll be here soon.
I kept my hand on Finn's back, kneading at the tight muscles. "I can't keep her out of the house, Finn, I only live here. Dad owns the place, so he gets to make those choices. But I will do my best to keep you were, with me. How does that sound?"
He shrugged, but settled back down, curling one arm around my neck. "I'm really tired."
"I know. Stay awake until they get here, and we'll sort things out, alright?" I hoped I sounded more confident then I felt. I had to do this. I was very good at standing up for myself, and I had to be good at standing up for Finn, too, because right now he couldn't do it for himself.
Whether it was alright with him or not, I heard the front door open and my father calling my name. Finn squeezed his eyes shut, almost as if anticipating a blow. As terrible as things were, though, I knew that wouldn't happen. Even if Carol had hit him, and I knew that she hadn't, because she was as gentle as her son, a physical strike wouldn't have upset him so badly. I tightened my arms around him and locked my jaw. If my father thought he had seen a full on diva blow out from me before, it was nothing compared to what he was going to see right now. "We're downstairs."
They must have had a conference before hand on how to handle us, because neither one of them yelled or demanded to know what Finn had been thinking, or why I hadn't called as soon as I found out that he was safe. They both just hovered for a second, possibly put off by the evil glare I was giving them both. Finn might as well have been on Mars for as much as he reacted to either one of them.
Carol reached out and touched his back, tears that she refused to let fall standing in her dark eyes. She was quiet, and, for all Finn knew, the hand on his back was mine, but he flinched even harder against me. He wanted nothing to do with her right now, a position he was making abundantly clear. Her eyes met mine and I refused to back away. "I can take care of him. He wants me right now." I didn't add 'not you' because she already knew it and it had to hurt.
"I know." She touched Finn again, this time on his cheek, and the flinch was less noticeable. "I love you, baby."
He had been so stubbornly quiet so far that it surprised me when he softly whispered. "I love you, too."
She backed off, and made a quick signal to my father, who had watched the entire thing with an unreadable expression. They had a brief conversation that I tried to eavesdrop on but couldn't, so I just kept staring at the wall and rubbing Finn's back. If they wanted to pretend that I wasn't here, then I could pretend that they weren't here. I leaned down and whispered into Finn's ear. "It'll be alright."
He shrugged, which wasn't much, but still more then he had been giving me, so I considered it progress. Finn would talk when he was ready, and pushing him wasn't going to make that happen any faster.
The parental conference ended, and Carol stood up. "Finn, do you want to spend the night here?"
It couldn't possibly be that easy. I was already worked up for a full on fit, in which I cursed and screamed and refused to turn Finn loose. It couldn't possibly be as easy as them just letting him stay. I went ahead and spoke for him. "Really?"
She nodded. "Really. Burt is alright with the idea, and I think a little time to sort this out is a good idea. I know Finn is safe here and that you'll take the very best care of him."
I felt myself blush, as much from the unexpected compliment as from what her words insinuated. Still, I had been entrusted with the most important thing in both of our worlds, and I wasn't going to screw it up. "I will."
"Finn, I'll be back to get you tomorrow, and we are going to have a very serious talk, one that we should have had a long time ago."
There was no outward response from Finn, but I could feel his heartbeat speeding faster and faster. Whatever this talk was, he didn't want to have it.
Dad walked Carol back upstairs, and I managed to convince Finn to uncurl enough so we were face to face. His eyes were dry, but very, very tired. "Why don't you take a quick shower so you can warm up?"
One eyebrow quirked, and I had to smile at the question in his face. "Alone, Cowboy." If he could ask for sex, he must not be as bad off as he had seemed. Maybe all he needed was a good nights rest, and some loving attention paid directly to him.
"Ok." He took a few steps, then stopped. "You'll be here, right? When I'm done in the shower, you'll still be here?"
"Yes. I'm going to go upstairs and get you a toothbrush, then come right back down." I hadn't forgotten what Puck had said about him getting sick, and I had the feeling that he was going to need a lot of kisses and comfort tonight.
He looked like he wanted to say something else, maybe something that might explain what the hell had happened today, but all he ended up doing was giving me a tight little nod and turning towards the bathroom.
The extra toiletries were in the upstairs bathroom and I didn't want to risk Finn finishing in there before I could get back. Dad met me in the living room, with a box and a T-shirt. He handed the shirt to me. "Here, he can sleep in this. I don't have any pants that will fit him, so he's going to have to make do there."
"Thanks, Dad." I meant for letting Finn stay at all more then I did for the shirt, and I knew that he knew it.
He nodded gruffly. "Kurt, doesn't ever, ever, do what Finn did tonight. No matter how bad things are between us, no matter what is said, I need to know where you are. Finn's very lucky that he wasn't hurt, and that Puck knew where to find him. If I thought I had lost you, for even a second, it would destroy me."
"I won't." It came out a whisper. "Dad, what happened?"
"Carol told Finn an unfair lie, and he found out about it. He doesn't feel like he can trust her right now, Kurt, which is why I'm letting him stay here tonight. For whatever crazy reason, he thinks he can trust you, so don't abuse that trust."
I could have asked what the lie was, but I didn't. That would have been the sneaky way out of things, instead of me actually taking the time to figure out how to help Finn on my own. After all, this was Finn we were talking about, how hard could it be?
How often does he go totally mute on you? This is something you've never had to deal with before, and, unless I miss my guess, neither has he. It might not be as easy as you think.
"Unless you have something helpful to add, I would suggest that you just shut up." Normally I wouldn't deign to fight with her out loud, but I had had just about enough of her negativity for the moment.
Bitch.
I decided to ignore that and rummaged around in the cabinet under the sink until I found a stash unopened toothbrushes. I picked a green one, because I knew it was his favorite color, and headed back to the basement. The shower was still running, but now there was a whirring noise filling the air. I hopped down the last few steps, curious about the source of the noise and hoping that Finn wasn't screwing around with the expensive ionic hairdryer that I had begged Dad for. After all, you can't put a price on having nice, nonfrizzy hair.
Before I went downstairs, I took a minute to text Mercedes and let her know that Finn was safe, and asked her to let the rest of the Glee club know. I waited a few minutes, but she didn't send anything back.
The noise turned out to be the electric pump that my father was using to blow up our air mattress. I started to say something, but he held up a hand to cut me off. "Kurt, for my own sanity and to save you some embarrassment, can we both just pretend that Finn Hudson is going to be spending the night on this mattress?"
"Yeah, that would be great." As much as I adored both Finn and Dad, I was definitely not ready to have that sort of talk with him.
He tossed an armful of blankets on the mattress, then stood awkwardly, clearly trying to figure out what he wanted to say. "Kurt-"He stopped again, then sighed. "Listen, I know you much you like Finn, and I think he needs you right now. But if he starts acting scary, I need you to come get me immediately. I don't want to see you hurt."
Finn would never hurt me. If anything, he would hurt himself. But maybe that was what Dad meant by 'scary'. "I will."
The shower shut off abruptly, and I tapped the door. "Finn? I have your toothbrush. Can I come in?"
Dad took that as his excuse to make his getaway. "Call me if you need me."
It was all quiet in the bathroom, so I knocked again. "Finn, come on."
"Ok. It's not locked." Sure enough, the knob turned easily in my hand. Finn was standing there, dripping water, with a towel around his waist. I held up my prizes. "Toothbrush. Dad said you can borrow this shirt, so…yeah." I wasn't sure what else to say, and even though this wasn't a new occurrence with Finn, it hadn't happened since we had officially (at least in my book) gotten together.
He took both items with more delicate grace then I would have thought he possessed, then nodded vaguely at me. "Thanks."
If I recognize one thing, it's a dismissal, so I gave him some privacy to get dressed. There was a fine line between pushing him and letting him shut me out, and I wasn't sure which side of it I was currently on.
Three minutes passed. I knew exactly how long it was, because I kept jerking my eyes back and forth between the closed bathroom door and the clock. If it went to five minutes, and Finn was still in there, I was coming in after him, his privacy could be damned. But the door clicked open, and he came padding across the floor to sit next to me on the bed.
"There you are." I took the towel from around his shoulders and lightly rubbed his hair, drying it off as best as I could. Maybe it wasn't the most important thing in the world, but it was something, and it would at least let him know that I cared.
"Here I am." His voice was rough, but that somehow didn't surprise me. I tossed the towel in the general direction of the hamper and sighed dismally as it missed its target. He nodded. "Yeah."
Something dug into my hip, and I belatedly remembered the Gatorade. I held it up, and he nodded and took it. It only took a few quick gulps for him to drain the bottle, which I thought was a good sign. He wouldn't drink so quickly if he was still feeling bad, right?
"Do you want to talk about it?" It was an appallingly stupid thing to say, but I couldn't think of anything better.
He shook his head. "Alright, then. Do you want more to drink?" Another shake. "Do you need anything else, or do you just want to lie down and sleep a little bit?"
"Lay down." Apparently communicating in more then two word phrases was beyond him at the moment.
"Alright. If you do decide you want to talk about it, just tell me. Even if you have to wake me up or you want to whisper it, let me know." It took a few minutes of awkward squirming before we found a position that worked for both of us. Unfortunately, this position put Finn facing the wall, and gave me no way to judge what was going on with him. I turned out the light and just stopped, not sure if I should talk to him, or hold him, or just let him have his space.
Finn wasn't being much help, either. His silence went on for so long that I was forced to break it before I went insane. I put my hand on his shoulder, the pale skin seeming to glow in the dark room. "Finn, how can I help you right now?"
He took my hand gently and pulled it down over his chest, so that I was holding his body up against mine. "Sing please."
I had no idea what sort of song would be appropriate for the situation we were in. "Got a request? Because, you know I live to please."
There was no response to my admittedly poor attempt at humor, so I thought as fast as I could and finally chose a song that I was sure he would already know. "Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better…"
The effect was almost immediate, and his body relaxed for the first time all night. By the time I was done with the song, he was asleep, hopefully finding the peace that he couldn't while he was awake.
It didn't end up happening that way. Whether he was having bad dreams, or was still drunk from earlier tonight, Finn jerked and whined all night, knocking me around on the bed and waking me up several times. Twice, when I opened my eyes, Finn's were open as well, but he didn't respond when I tried talking to him. He was officially freaking me out, but I didn't know what to do. Finally he got quiet, and, other then a brief dream where my father came down and talked to me, I slept soundly for the rest of the night.
I knew something was off as soon as I opened my eyes in the morning. The basement was light, too light for it to be 6 in the morning. Crap! I had overslept and now I wouldn't have enough time to do all of my beauty routines. God forbid I showed up at school looking less then perfect. If I had nothing else in this cow town, I could at least hang on to my pride. Plus, I must have knocked my pillow off during the night, because my head was now resting on something completely unyielding. Also, that something was moving.
The events of the previous night came rushing back to me. Finn, Puck, Dad and Carol. I jerked upright and looked down. Sure enough, Finn was sprawled out on his back, breathing steadily. One arm had been wrapped loosely around my body, sliding down my back as I sat up. I laid back down, my head on his chest, and closed my eyes. I wasn't going to school today. Dad would already be at the garage, and Finn needed me more then I needed to be at school.
With a bit of deft stretching, I managed to snag my cell phone off the dresser. There were 18 missed calls, as well as 9 texts, which were all from Mercedes. The first four asked for updates on Finn, and the last five wondered where the hell I was. It was 10:30, and, if I hurried, I could get out a text that she would read at class change.
I'm fine. Finns fine. Taking day off. Luv u.
I knew that it wouldn't satisfy her for long, but I hoped it would be enough for me to get some answers out of Finn. Speaking of Finn, he was awake and watching me. I smiled at him. "Hey, Cowboy."
"Hey." He seemed kind of confused, looking around. "Uh, so…" He trailed off and thought hard. "Did I sing 'Hey Jude' last night, or did you?"
"I did." Everything that had happened, and that was what he chose to focus on?
"Oh. You were good." He sat up and gave me a quick kiss. "You're a good boyfriend."
He may have just been trying to distract me, but it was the first time he had referred to me as his boyfriend and I couldn't believe how good it felt. "Really?"
"Well, yeah. You stuck up for me and let me spend the night and you didn't try and make me talk or anything. You always know what to do."
I wondered what he would have said if he knew that I really had no idea what to do for him, that I was just fumbling through it all and hoping that I didn't make things even worse. "Thanks." I settled back down against his chest. "Do you want to talk about last night?"
"Uh, I guess." He put an arm around me. "What would you do if your father told you a really terrible lie?"
I had spent most of last night trying to figure out what Carol could have possibly lied to Finn about. Was he adopted? No, that didn't make sense. Finn looked exactly like the picture I had seen of his father, which ruled out a wild affair on Carol's part also. Maybe Finn had a half brother or sister somewhere that he had never known. As hard as I tried, that was the best I could come up with.
"I don't know what I would do. Are we talking about a lie that he told me with good intentions, like that I would have to go get shots if I didn't eat my vegetables, or are we talking about telling a lie for no other reason then to terrify me, like that a molester might creep into my room at night if I got out of bed?"
"Your dad really told you that?" His forehead wrinkled, and this time I couldn't help but straighten up so I could kiss it.
"No, it was just an example. Which type of lie was it?"
He thought for a second. "Neither, I guess. It was more like….well, what did your mother die of?"
I couldn't possibly see what that had to do with anything, but I wanted to keep Finn talking. "Cancer."
"Ok, well, say she died of cancer, and because of that, you were at risk for the same thing. Like, it was in your genomes or something. But your Dad told you that she died of a different sort of cancer, just so you wouldn't worry. Say it was that sort of lie."
What? Finn's narrative was beyond confusing, but it did clue me in to the fact that this was about his father. "Well, considering my mother died of ovarian cancer, and I lack ovaries, I don't think I'm in any danger."
"What do ovaries do again?" He traced his fingers underneath my hoodie and over my skin.
Nice try, buddy. I pushed his hand away, and he returned it to his lap with an aggrieved sigh. "They make eggs. Why don't you tell me what your mother did, since we don't seem to be getting anywhere using euphemisms?"
There was a pause, during which I could almost see him debating whether or not to ask what a euphemism was, before he gave a soft sigh. "My father didn't die in Iraq."
Of all the things he could have said, that was one that I wouldn't have even considered. He has presented his fathers death to me in such a calm, matter of fact manner that I hadn't thought twice about it. A cold feeling started in my chest, like my heart was slowly freezing. "He didn't?"
"No." That furtive, anxious look was back, and I could tell that he wanted nothing more then to run from me, the way he had from Carol last night. I shifted around a little. This way I was facing him, but I was also positioned between him and the door. "He didn't."
I waited, but he had stalled out. "Is he still alive, then?" That really was the worst lie I could think off, and I had no idea why Carol would tell it.
"No, he blew his brains all over my room while I was still in it. Nice, huh?" For as emotionally involved in the tale as he was, Finn might as well have been reciting the history of Poland.
"What?" I had intended to shout it, but all I could force out was a strangled whisper. My body turned hot with fury at her, then cold with fear. Carol was a good mother, the best. What reason could she possibly have to hide such a terrible secret?
"Yeah. Of course, I was just a baby, so I don't even remember it happening. I guess it might be why I've always been a little afraid of guns, but maybe not. Babies are kind of stupid and don't remember much."
They actually remembered more then he thought, but I kind of figured that Finn wasn't in the mood to hear that right now. Instead I took his hands in mine and squeezed as tightly as I could. He smiled weakly. "But I guess she didn't want to tell me that, so she told me he died in Iraq. It's not only her, either. My grandma and grandpa, my aunts and uncles, my older cousins. I went to their houses for Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and summer break, and they were all looking at me because they knew what happened and I didn't"
I didn't know what to say to that, so, for once, I kept my mouth closed. He was right, this was the worst lie I could imagine. He gave me a shaky smile. "So, what do I do?"
He had asked me that once before, way back when he had found out the truth about Quinn and Puck. But this was different. This was his mother, and I had no ulterior motive for ruining this relationship. In fact, knowing what I did about losing a mother, I wanted to preserve it at all costs. "I don't know."
"I though you knew everything." He tightened his grip, his larger hands almost swallowing mine.
"No." My voice was uncharacteristically soft. "When it comes to Moms, I don't know much of anything."
"It's not about Moms. It's about the fact that she lied to me about the most important thing that's ever happened to me. I mean, what if it turns out I'm crazy, too?"
"It won't." True, mental illnesses, including depression and suicidal tendencies, could run in families, but Finn had yet to show any signs of it.
He didn't believe me; I could read it in his eyes. "How can you know that? I could be crazy right now, you know. I could kill you, kill myself, kill anyone."
That probably should have scared me, especially with what my father had said last night, but it didn't. Finn's words were upsetting, but his voice was calm and detached. He was holding my hands captive, but I knew I could wiggle free if I needed to. He wasn't trying to scare me; he was desperately asking me to prove him wrong. "But you won't. You're no more a killer then I am."
"How do you know?" Despite his best efforts to hold it back, I could see the brief flare of hope in his eyes.
It was a good question. How did I know that? As hard as I tried, I couldn't put it into words.
Oh for God's sake, Kurt, you suck at comforting. Tell him about how finding out about Quinn and Drizzle upset him, but he bounced back. Or how well he's taking his ever changing social status? Or about how he would never do anything like commit suicide, because he knows how badly it would hurt everyone he left behind, and he cares more about their feelings then he does about his? Shit, if you can't do any of that, just give the boy a kiss and tell him that you would never let that happen to him.
Bitch and perverted as she could be, Galinda did have a few things going for her. Namely that she had better people skills then I did. So I slipped my hands free of Finn's (noticing that he let me go without a fight, just like I knew he would) and wrapped my arms around him. Quietly, I repeated everything Galinda had said, interspacing the points with kisses and reminders of how important he was to a lot of people, and that he would never let them down.
By the end he was nodding a little. "I guess. I just…I really want to know why he did it, you know? I mean, he had Mom and he had me, and that apparently wasn't enough."
Now we were in dangerous territory, but I forged ahead anyway. "I don't think it's like that. When you're really depressed, it's hard to see all the good things you have, like a wife and a baby. All you can focus on is the bad stuff, and pretty soon it all looks hopeless."
"I guess. But what should I do about Mom?" The desperation was back in his voice, worse then ever.
"Talk to her, Cowboy, ok? I know that you don't like her very much right now, but she is your mother, and she's the only one you'll ever have." I hated, hated, hated, the way my voice cracked when I said that. "I would give just about anything to be able to talk to mine again, even if all we did was have a fight." Why did telling him that make me feel like I was confessing something dirty and wrong?
He leaned closer to me, his forehead against mine and nodded. "I know. I love her so much, and that's why I don't understand why she did it. She could have told me the truth, I could have handled it."
He wasn't handling it so well now, but his issue was the lie more then the suicide. It was that he was finding out for the first time that his mother wasn't the perfect person he thought she was, and that as a painful realization. "I guess maybe I should call her."
I wanted to keep him here; in this strange rhythm we had fallen into just a little bit longer. Just another hour in which he was solely mine, then I would give him back to Carol and the harsh discussion that they needed to have. "How about I make you breakfast first?"
When he smiled at me, it was like seeing the sun. Finn was going to be alright. Maybe not right away, but eventually. He would move on and come out better for it, because that was just what he did. "Yeah, that would be great."
For a second he paused, then looked at the ground. "Uh, I could maybe kind of share my mom with you. Sometimes." He rubbed his hand through his hair nervously, and looked back up. "I mean, I know she's not the same as your mom, but she's a pretty good one. Mostly."
That might have been one of the sweetest things I had ever heard. It wouldn't sound like much to an outsider, but I knew how it felt to have it just be you and one parent, and what it was like to suddenly have to share them. I could see the jealousy that I had felt when he tried to talk to my father reflected in his eyes, but he managed to clamp down on it. "Thank you, Finn."
He gave me a half smile. "But not right now. Wait until I'm done being pissed off with her. If you don't, she might decide she likes you better then me."
That would never happen. Carol loved Finn with her entire heart and soul, which made me wonder why she would have told him such a disgusting lie. I wrapped an arm around his waist, which made him smile again. "Come on, let's eat."
We were halfway up the steps before I was able to get out what I had wanted to. "I guess I could share Dad with you, too. Just long enough for you to watch a game or something." It was almost physically painful to say the words, but I had to quit being selfish and give them both what they were missing.
"That would be cool."
Finn pulled ahead of me when we made it to the door at the top of the stairs, eager for food. "Can we have real eggs this time, the kind with yellow in them? Because the omelet was good, but, come on, dude, I'm a growing boy."
"Don't you think you're tall enough already? You're already like six inches taller then I am." Not that I really minded. I liked men who were tall enough that I could lay my head comfortably on their chest, and I would have to stand up on my tiptoes to kiss them.
He shrugged. "Maybe I'll do some growing somewhere else."
I didn't have to see his face to know he was leering at me. "You don't need any growing in that area either, it's already big enough that-"
Finn froze in the doorway of the kitchen, going still so quickly that I ran right into his back. Before I could ask him what his problem was, he tensed. "Mr. Hummel!"
What was my father doing here? Furthermore, had he just heard what I had said about Finn? If so, I might need to die. Immediately. Fortunately, if Dad had heard it, he chose to ignore it. "Hi, Finn, how are you feeling?"
"Better, I guess. That you for letting me spend the night, that was really, really cool of you." He was studying the floor as he spoke, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
"That's good." He met my eyes over Finn's shoulders, silently asking if he was telling the truth. I nodded, even though I was fully aware that anything was better then the way he had been last night. "Kurt, let the poor boy eat a proper breakfast."
This was one of the enduring arguments between my father and I. He ate like he was still 18, tons of fat and cholesterol, and that was going to catch up with him one day. I had tried multiple times to convince him that Slim Jims were not only not meat, but probably not even food, but it was like trying to explain a copy of Vogue to Rachael. It just didn't work. "Finn, you can have normal eggs if you want them, but at least have some fruit and milk to go along with them."
"Cool." Apparently Finn isn't as difficult to convert over to healthy eating as my father is.
Dad turned the stove on and started getting out eggs while I cut up some fruit and poured myself a cup of coffee. Finn picked through the cabinets, bringing out two glasses, then, at my fathers look, adding a third. He was still quiet, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. We all gave him drink orders and he poured carefully.
"So, Dad, how come you're home? Aren't you going in to work today?" I tried to steer the conversation back to lighter ground. "Also, I don't know why my alarm didn't go off; I swear I set it last night."
He smiled at me affectionately, something I would chew my right arm off to see more often. "Your alarm didn't go off, because I turned it off this morning. Don't you remember me coming downstairs and asking you if you had any tests or anything today? You told me that it was fine."
Really? "Oh, I guess I thought that was a dream."
"Nope, it happened. I thought that since last night was so long for all of us, you two might want to sleep in. Then I figured that I might as well take the day off, too, keep you boys in line."
What he means is keep you boys from fucking like bunnies. Think about it, Kurt, if he actually was down there this morning, he saw you all wrapped up around Finn, which by the way, you barely even kissed him this morning, when you could have totally done a lot more. He wouldn't have said no. But anyway, he's telling you that he's around to try and play cock-blocker, so you might have to get a little sneaky.
That was wrong on so many levels, from my father actually seeing me with Finn, to Galinda suggesting that I should have woken Finn up with a blowjob. "Yeah, that was really nice of you."
"No problem. After all, what are fathers for?" He was watching Finn out of the corner of his eye, and we both saw him flinch. Of course he had no idea what fathers were for, he had never had one.
"So, after we eat I need to call my Mom to come get me." Whether he was saying it because he meant it, or because he knew we were both staring at him and he felt compelled to say something, wasn't very clear.
Dad nodded. "That's probably a good idea."
"Yeah." His voice didn't match his words at all. His voice sounded like he was on his way to the execution chamber. "It is."
I held out the pan and, when Dad indicated that he didn't want any, split it between Finn and I. He ate rapidly, which might have been because he was feeling more like himself, or just because he was nervous, but at least he would have a full stomach when he went home.
There's only so long you can linger over breakfast, and soon there was nothing left but some crumbs and a grapefruit rind, which Finn was spinning in circles. I grabbed his plate before he could knock it to the floor. "Ok, Cowboy, that's enough."
Dad pulled out his cell phone and nudged it across the table. "I have to get going. The garage and all that. Kurt, I'll be late tonight, so don't bother making anything for dinner."
I appreciated his attempt at giving Finn a little privacy. The issue now was, should I do the same thing? He might want me here, but, like I had told him an hour ago, I don't really understand moms. Maybe this was something that should be between just him and her. I laid my head on his shoulder. "Do you want me to leave?"
"No." He was already dialing. "I want you to stay here with me. I need-"He broke off as the phone connected. "Mom? Mom, it's me."
From my current position, I could hear the rhythms of Carol's voice, but not her words. All I could hear was Finn's side of the conversation. "I know, I love you, too. I know. No, I'm ready to come home. Yeah, they've both been really nice. I love you. Ok, I'll be ready. I love you."
He hung up and sighed softly, resting his chin on top of my head. "She'll be here in 20 minutes. I nuzzled as close as I could, no longer concerned about crowding him. Finn squeezed my shoulders. "How…." He trailed off without completing the thought.
I pressed my face into his neck, enjoying his smell. "How what?"
"I'm still really pissed with her, so how do I keep from being a total douche to her? I'm mad, but I love her, she's my mom, and I already hurt her enough. But I get frustrated, then I get mad, then I say things that are really, really terrible. I know it, but I can't help myself. If I'm really hurting, I want to hurt the other person as bad as I do. It's horrible, but I do it."
Sound familiar, Kurt? It seems to me that Finn isn't the only one who turns his pain back on other people. You attacked him just a few days ago just because he dared talk to your father, and that hurt your feelings. So you better come up with some damn good advice, and, while you're at it, you might want to take it yourself.
I thought hard, trailing my fingers up and down on his back. "Maybe the best way to do it is not to say anything. You already know you're pissed at her, she knows you're pissed at her, so it might be better if you don't bring it up. Let her talk, you know, tell you what happened. I'm not saying she was right to lie to you like that, but I'm sure she thought she was doing what was best for you. If you don't even give her a chance to explain herself, you'll never get past this."
"So, basically, you're telling me that if I don't have anything nice to say, to just keep my big stupid mouth shut?" I could almost hear the smile in his voice. "Cause, that's probably pretty good advice."
"Yeah, I guess that's what I'm saying. Remember, you can always call me, or come here if you need to. Just don't run again, ok? Do you have any idea how scared I was when no one could find you? I didn't know if you were hurt, or scared, or dead in a ditch, or if Rachael had kidnapped you and had you tied to her horrible Barbie bed while she had her wicked way with you."
His chest rumbled in a choked off laugh. "I wouldn't let her do that. You're the only one I want to have my wicked way with."
No matter how many times he said something like that, I would never get tired of it. Having Finn Hudson tell me that he wants me is like having ice cream with no calories and being able to go to a fashion show in Paris and being the prom king and getting into design school all rolled up in one. "Thank you, Finn."
The approach of a slightly sputtery engine cut off anything else we might have said. Finn's head popped up like a puppy's might when he heard his mother's car. "She's here."
He stood up and slowly inched towards the door, his expression unreadable. His fingers were tight in mine, right up until Carol opened the driver's side door and stepped out. She didn't come towards us, but Finn immediately dropped my hand and took first one tentative step forward, then another. He paused at the bottom of the porch steps, then suddenly he was running towards his mother, heaving himself into her arms.
"Come on, Kurt, they're going to be fine." I hadn't realized that my father had come up behind me, and his voice startled me. He put a hand on my back, right between my shoulder blades, and I surprised myself by leaning back into him, instead of tensing like I normally did.
"I know, but…" I wasn't sure how to put what I was feeling into words.
"But you love him, and you don't ever want him to be unhappy. This is going to be painful, no matter how gently she puts it, or how good her explanation is, and you can't stand the thought of him suffering for even a minute?"
Sometimes my father and I don't understand each other at all, and sometimes we get each other perfectly. "Yeah." I wanted to hug him so badly that it was almost a physical ache, but I held back. I almost always held back.
"Do you want to come in and work at the garage today? Spend some time with your old man?" No matter how many times he asked, and I almost always said yes, there was that same desperate hope in his voice.
Of course I did. Right at this moment, with everything that had gone wrong over the past 24 hours; I would have done anything to be close to him. "Sure, let me get my stuff."