(Author's note: I'm playing kind of fast and loose with the timing of how long Puck is gone and how long it would really take for them to get in action about it. Hopefully that doesn't stress anyone out too much. Some unexpected things happened in this chapter, but it worked, so I went with what the characters told me to do. -amy)

Sarah thought Frances was being unusually quiet on the way home from school. The bus paused to let three more kids off, then chuffed and roared on its way down Bellefontaine.

"Sorry we had to take the bus today," said Sarah. "Kurt and Finn have been feeling too upset to do much for other people."

"It's fine," said Frances. She tucked her newly-trimmed hair behind her ear, and it immediately fell forward onto her face again. The smile she gave Sarah was full of tension, but Sarah wasn't about to push her to talk here.

"So Lauren sent that stuff to me about Noah's Adventure Camp. I've been trying to figure out all day what to do about it. Because my dad has pulled some crazy stuff in his day, but this shit is just not okay."

Frances stiffened a little, which Sarah figured was about the swearing. She never liked it when Sarah used that kind of language. It had always been ordinary language in her household, and nobody there had ever told her not to use it, except her Ma when she was being particularly hypocritical. Clean up your fuckin' language always made Sarah laugh.

"Sorry," she added belatedly.

"It's fine," Frances said again. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them and crossed them again the other way.

"Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

"I'm fine," she snapped.

This time Sarah stared at her in astonishment. Frances immediately cringed and looked away.

"What the fucking fuck, Francie?"

But Frances was already crying, those silent tears of hers that didn't quite fall and didn't look like a big deal, unless you knew her like Sarah did. She reached down beside Frances' leg and grasped her hand, out of sight of everyone else. Frances clutched it tightly.

"Talk about anything else," she begged. "Anything but Noah. Please."

"Okay. Um…" It was hard to switch gears that quickly. "Lydia says I can visit the horses at Tessera at Christmas."

She rambled on randomly about the baby horse, who was nearly a yearling already, while Frances listened in silence. She didn't let go of Sarah's hand, but when they got off the bus and stepped onto the gravel road, she brushed past her and went straight for Blaine's garden.

Finn had done most of the initial landscaping for the house, using Sarah's plans and working with Carole to get the passive watering system in before they put down the sod, but it was Blaine who had done nearly all the summer planting. Some of the annuals he'd planted in August were still around. Carole had tried to tell him, it's too late for flowers, but he'd enjoyed being in the dirt so much, she had stopped trying to convince him not to put in more of them.

The birds scattered from the birdbath as Frances approached, but once she sat on the bench they returned, ducking their heads under the water and shaking their feathers. Sarah sat quietly beside her, waiting as Frances blew her nose and kept right on crying.

"I'm sorry this thing with Noah is getting to you," she said.

"It's not about Noah. I mean, yes, it's terrible, and I feel so worried about him, but…" She turned her red eyes on Sarah, sniffing. "This is about me."

"Okay?" She tapped her foot on the patio stone. "Are you gonna tell me, or should I guess?"

"Maybe you should guess," Frances whispered.

"Is it because your mom is freaked out about you being gay?"

Frances squeezed her eyes shut. "I — I never said I was!"

"No, I know." She scooted closer and hugged Frances before she could get away. "So… was that it, or should I keep guessing?"

"That was it." Frances voice was muffled in her hair. "How did you know?"

"Uh…" Sarah had to stifle a giggle. "Okay, let me think. Maybe it's because you kissed me at New Year's? Or maybe it's all the books you're always reading with gay characters in them. Or maybe it's because I'm your best friend and I know everything about you —"

"Okay, okay!" Now Frances sounded normal-annoyed. It made them both relax a little while Frances wiped her eyes. "There was… a girl. Last summer. At Girl Scout camp." She made a face. "God, I just remembered it was called Adventure Camp. But it wasn't anything like your brother's camp, I promise! It was just — fantastic."

"You told me how great it was. But you didn't say anything about a girl. Or, wait, was that Laura? The one who liked the Indigo Girls?"

Frances nodded, keeping her eyes on the tissue in her lap. Sarah waited, but Frances didn't say anything else, so Sarah gave her a little poke in the ribs.

"Are you going to tell me what happened, or do I need to guess that too? Trust me, my imagination is totally off the charts when it comes to sex."

"No sex!" Frances squeaked, her eyes huge. "Nothing like that. Well." She squirmed. "We kissed? There was kissing. That was all."

"Sounds like that was enough."

"I — I already knew." She looked absolutely miserable, twisting her hands in her lap. "About me. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. For a while I wasn't sure, and then when I thought I was, I was still so confused. And Blaine and I talked this summer, and he helped me, but now…" She made a little hiccuping sob. "Now I can't even bring up any of you when I talk to him. Especially Noah."

Sarah hadn't even thought about how much that might suck. "What does happen if you try to bring him up?"

"The last time I tried, Blaine just wandered away from the conversation. All he talks about is school and the Warblers." She closed her eyes. "I miss him. The parts of him that are… you know. Gone."

They sat in silence for a minute, watching the birds. Sarah thought about Blaine being gone. She wondered if Noah would come back from Adventure Camp in one piece.

Frances fumbled for her hand. "I miss you, too."

"Oh," said Sarah, startled, "well… I'm still here?"

"Yeah, but you're not in classes with me anymore, or lunch. You're doing eighth grade things with Marley Rose and I'm doing seventh grade things. And you have Lauren, and all your friends online you never talk about."

"That's confidential," she said, but it hurt to say it. "It's not like I want to have secrets from you."

"I know. But you do, even if you don't want to." Frances shrugged. "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you about this summer before."

Sarah nudged Frances' ballet flat with her own worn black combat boot. "It's okay. I think I knew you were keeping things from me, but I assumed it was because you liked me, in a lesbian kind of way, and you felt weird about that."

Frances went beet-red at the word lesbian. "Oh," she said, and laughed shakily. "I — uh."

Sarah turned to face her on the bench, grasping both her hands. "You don't have to worry about me," she said fiercely. "I love you, and I'm not gonna stop, no matter how you feel. I mean, I guess it might feel weird for you, but it's not weird for me."

"Oh," Frances said again, in a smaller voice. She flicked a panicked glance at the house, then back at Sarah. "Okay."

Sarah felt the moment drag on, until she finally furrowed her eyebrows. "So how is it for you?"

"Well," said Frances, sounding strangled, "I — I love you, too."

"I know that," Sarah said. She tried to keep her voice like Finn's, calm and confident, instead of the way Timothy or her Ma would have been, annoyed and sharp. "But is it a sexy kind of love, or not?"

Frances looked like she might pass out right there on the bench. "Is it for you?"

"I don't know yet," Sarah said. "I don't think I have very sexy feelings about anybody yet. But I'm really curious, and there's a lot of things I want to try, and I'd rather try them with you than anybody else." She grinned. "Every time I try to talk about it with Noah, he starts hyperventilating, so I guess I'm on to something."

"Oh," Frances said a third time. Now she just looked amazed. "You — you really want to do… things… with me?"

"Well," she said, "the way I think about it, our whole lives are going to be full of new people and new things? We're going to go places we don't even know about yet. But there's a lot of stuff we can try right now, and we don't have to go anywhere to try them. So why not?"

Frances appeared to be drowning in these ideas a little. Sarah decided she'd better do something. She leaned in and kissed Frances on the neck, right under her ear.

The noise Frances made was surprisingly loud. Sarah smiled into her skin and kissed her again.

"Sarah," she said, sounding desperate. "Why are you doing that?"

"I wanted to?" Sarah brushed her cheek against Frances' skin. "Wow, your neck is really soft. You smell good. Am I freaking you out? Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes. No." She took a deep breath. "Just a second."

Sarah sat patiently while Frances stared at her, clearly perplexed.

"You just — want to do all this with me, suddenly?" Frances said. She sounded a little angry.

"Not suddenly," Sarah said. "I've been thinking about it a lot all year."

"Well, it's the first I knew about it! I mean, most people don't just start… kissing their best friend." Frances shook her head. "How do you even think you can do that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean — it's like —" Frances stood up, walking restlessly to the edge of the garden, standing there with her hands protectively around her arms. She gestured at the horizon, looking over the empty field next door toward the line of trees. "It's like you suddenly said, I never told you before, but I'm a queen, and I own all this land, and I'm bequeathing it to you." She was breathing hard. "How am I supposed to feel about that? What do I say?"

"I don't know!" Sarah felt a little angry herself. "I think you decide if you want it or not, and if you don't, you just say no thanks, and —"

"And what?" Frances shouted. "And things go back the way they were?"

"Maybe?" She stood up, walking slowly toward Frances, like she was one of Lydia's skittish horses. "I think we get to decide that. I'm just saying…" She paused a few feet away, watching her for signs of bolting. "No matter what you decide, I'm still giving it to you. Like, it was always yours anyway." She cocked her head. "You really didn't know?"

"I don't know anything," Frances said raggedly. Then she took two quick steps forward and kissed Sarah, this time on the mouth.

Sarah had to stretch up on her toes to meet Frances' lips. When she put her hand behind Frances' head and brought her face down a little further, she felt their tongues touch. Frances immediately shivered.

"Is that gross or good?" Sarah asked.

"Good," Frances breathed. "And — a little scary. And — good."

"Okay. Good." She tried the kissing-tongue thing again, and was pleased to feel Frances relax a little more. "I think if you can keep telling me how it feels, that would be useful."

"Okay."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No," Frances said quickly. She laughed apologetically. "I think… I might never want to stop."

"Well, I have a lot of things I want to try," said Sarah, "so I'm gonna start suggesting them. You're just going to have to tell me yes or no."

Her eyes looked very big and very blue. "That's… a lot of ground to cover."

Sarah smiled. She touched that very soft skin of Frances' neck with her fingertips, and watched Frances' eyes close in response. "Well, of course it is. I'm the queen, after all."

"Yes," Frances whispered.

"If we go inside, there are more things we can try."

Frances stumbled back a step, staring. "Uh… maybe?"

Sarah shook her head. "Maybe is really the same as no, not yet. So I'd rather only do yes things." She reached down to retrieve her backpack and Frances' satchel, handing it to her. "How about you help me start dinner, and we can talk about what things are yes and what things aren't."

Frances looked somewhat uncomfortable with that plan. But when they dropped their bags off upstairs on the green couch, she said, tentatively, "Kissing is a yes."

"Uh-huh," said Sarah, grinning. Frances blushed.

"What about the rest? Whatever I want? I mean… whatever we both want?"

She thought about that. "Sure, but I think asking is best."

"Asking is embarrassing," Frances admitted.

"I don't think we should do things we're too embarrassed to talk about." She took a little step into Frances' space, watching her get used to standing that close, and waited until Frances leaned in to kiss her.

When they paused this time, Frances looked sad.

"What is it?" Sarah asked.

"I'm not going to be able to talk to my parents about this, Sarah. At all. And I know it's going to be weird at school."

"It's not going to be weird for very long," Sarah promised. "It's different. We'll adapt. Okay if I kiss you again?"

She could see what Noah meant about girls feeling good. She'd kissed a couple boys before, and none of them had felt nearly as nice as Frances, or made such pleasant noises. But Frances still looked sad.

Sarah led them back downstairs to the kitchen and began getting out the ingredients for the stir-fry. They'd been trying to keep dinners heart-healthy, so Tatenui would be able to eat all the same stuff as the rest of the family. She looked across the counter at Frances, who still appeared to be mostly overwhelmed in a not-so-good way, while all she was feeling was a little smug.

"I know you can't tell your parents," she said as she washed the bok choi, "or Blaine, at the moment. I can't exactly tell Noah right now, either. But I think we should tell the rest of my family."

Frances looked horrified. "All of them?"

"If we don't tell all of them, we're gonna have to keep it a secret here, too. And they don't really keep secrets from one another." She paused. "Are you telling me you don't want to do any kissing at my house?"

"Not in front of anybody!"

Sarah frowned. "Well, okay? I'm a pretty good secret-keeper, but I think you need somebody on your side. Can you think of anybody you'd want to tell besides Blaine?"

"Not really," Frances admitted. "I think everybody else would… be judgmental. Either they'd say what we were doing was a sin, or they'd say we're not doing it right."

This was completely baffling to Sarah. "What, you mean, they'd critique our technique or something?"

"No!" Now she was laughing. "I mean they'd say we had to be, you know. Together."

Sarah still didn't get it. She set the bok choi on the cutting board. "Aren't we?"

"Well, there's a usual way, right? Dating, and then being exclusive, and then…" She sighed. "I guess we're already breaking so many rules it doesn't actually matter."

"It doesn't actually matter, ever," Sarah insisted.

Frances looked sad again. "Only to you, Sarah."

"Well, does not-breaking-the-rules matter more than kissing?" She had a sudden thought. "Do you think that's why Noah is doing this Adventure Camp? Because he thinks he should be following the rules?"

"Maybe." Frances watched her scowling at the vegetables as she chopped them with vicious intensity. "Don't cut yourself."

"I'm not going to cut myself!" Sarah snapped.

Frances came around to her side of the island and stood behind her. She put both hands on Sarah's shoulders until she put down the knife.

"It's not," Frances said. "It's not more important. I don't agree with what your dad's doing with your brother. I think…" She took a steadying breath. "I think you have to trust your own feelings about what's right, but… for most people, it's easy to get confused by listening to what other people tell you. Especially if you respect them and you want them to approve of you."

"Duh," Sarah muttered. She turned around and hugged Frances tightly. "You get to choose. Nobody else chooses for you."

Sarah could feel her breathing change as soon as they were touching again. "No, but it's hard to remember that sometimes, when I feel judged by everybody else."

They heard the front door open and close. "Girls?" called Kurt. "Are you here?"

"We're here," Sarah called back. She let Frances step back out of her arms, but before she could go too far, Sarah leaned in and kissed her quickly. "You get to choose," she whispered. "I'm not going to make you do it."

Frances nodded. She still looked scared, but grateful, too. Thank you, she mouthed.

Kurt and Finn were in even worse shape than they'd been the night before. Kurt dropped his bag beside the counter and let out a big sigh. "Did you get that email from Lauren about Adventure Camp?"

"Yeah," said Sarah. She chopped the last of the bok choi and dumped it into the colander, then passed it to Frances to be washed before accepting the hug Kurt offered.

"I don't know how we're going to do it yet," said Kurt under his breath, "but we're going to figure out how to get him away from that place. I'm not going to let anybody hurt him."

"I'm working on it, too," she said. That earned her a smile. She glanced over at Frances. "Do you think we could… maybe play Monopoly tonight? The four of us?"

"We could do that," Kurt agreed.

Frances didn't look up from slicing the chicken, but she was smiling, too. "You're going to win."

I haven't yet, Sarah thought. But I'm getting there.

When Finn got back from taking Frances home, he could hear the sound of the piano upstairs. He climbed the staircase slowly and walked through the hall, savoring the sound. When he reached the bottom of the half-staircase leading up to the sitting room, he paused there, listening and watching Kurt for a minute or two before circling around to stand where Kurt could see him. Kurt didn't stop playing, or even acknowledge him.

"Is that Sherbert?" Finn asked.

"Schubert," Kurt said emphatically. He glared at the piano, which was devoid of music. "Opus 90, number 4, in A flat major."

"You know the whole thing by heart?"

"My fingers know. If I start thinking about it, I'll screw up."

Finn rested a hand on the piano. "Does that mean you're trying to stay out of your head? You know I've got tools to help with that."

After a moment, Kurt stopped playing, bowing his head. His hands curled into his lap, loose and empty.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"You can finish that first," said Finn. "You haven't played in weeks."

He shook his head. "No, I thought it would calm me down, but… it's just making me think about Blaine."

Finn moved to sit beside him on the piano bench. "Ms. Pillsbury said he was playing piano at Java the Hut. Maybe you should go see him."

Kurt shook his head. "I don't think I can deal with him not acknowledging my existence, Finn."

"You don't know that's what would happen."

"Yeah, I do." Kurt's voice was bitter. "He treated Carl that way. And what Santana said… it was like this summer never happened." He rested his head on Finn's shoulder. "I wish Dave would go see him. Because he's part of his past, just like Santana. And maybe that would… I don't know, trigger something. Make him wake up from whatever game he's playing to please his father."

"You think that's what he's doing?"

"I have no idea, Finn," he said sharply. "Maybe he just changed his mind about us."

Finn put a hand on his back. "You don't really think that."

Kurt's head dropped a little more. "No. I don't really think that."

"I don't think we can help Blaine. Not right now, anyway. But what about Puck? There must be somebody we can talk to, somebody who can help. I mean, there must be somebody who can do something."

"No. There's nobody. His social worker said the same thing Ms. Pillsbury said: that Dad has no control over Noah until the adoption is complete. And I can't imagine we'll ever get Mr. Puckerman to sign any kind of agreement after this. Carole already tried calling the Jews for Jesus organization directly, but it's just an answering machine." Kurt licked his lips, like he tasted something bad. "God, it makes me sick to even say that name. How did Noah get caught up in this? How did I let him?"

Finn wanted to tell him to stop, not to blame himself. He wanted to give him the assurance that Sarah and Puck would get to stay with them. Above all, he wanted to reassure him everything would be all right. But he couldn't honestly tell him any of those things. He just held him a little closer and kissed him on the head.

"I love you, baby," he said.

That made Kurt start crying again. He clutched the front of Finn's shirt and buried his face into his chest for about a minute. Then he wiped his eyes and sat up.

"Tess," he said. "We should call Tess. She knows people. Maybe there's someone in Oregon who can help. She'll know what to do."

Finn could hear Carl's response to that in his head. "She'll be angry."

Kurt blanched. "Angry at me?"

"No, no, baby — just, you know how protective she is of Puck." He tried to smile. "Even more than you are. I think Mr. Puckerman might be in for it when she finds out what's going on."

"But, Finn, we don't even know what's going on. I think…" He took a shaky breath. "I think he did this on his own. That's the scariest part. I think it was actually his choice."

"But he loves you, and Adam," Finn said. And me, he added in his head, but somehow he couldn't quite bring himself to say it out loud. "Speaking of Adam, you know you have to tell him what's going on, right?"

Kurt nodded, although his expression didn't change. "I know. I just don't want him to do anything rash. We don't have any good information, and he can't do any more to help him than we can. If quits his tour for Noah, it's just going to be bad for everyone. So… I'm waiting."

"Okay," said Finn. He sighed. More secrets.

"What Noah needed to convince him there wasn't anything wrong with him was a good spanking and a lot of loving. Now, I don't know if those things are enough anymore." Kurt shuddered. "I can't stand to think about where he is right now. Can you imagine: Noah, surrounded by people who have nothing good to tell him about his choices? How do you think he's feeling about himself?"

"He's not a quitter, Kurt," Finn said, with as much conviction as he could muster. "He agreed to this relationship, with you and me, at New Year's. He said one year — and that year isn't over yet. Okay, he might not have a lot of experience with commitment, but I think by now he really does know we believe in him."

Kurt seemed somewhat appeased by this answer, but Finn kept thinking about it even after Kurt had closed the piano and gone downstairs.

It bothered him enough that he went to find his mom after dinner. She was sitting on the floor in the still-unfinished basement, sorting through craft materials.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked.

She set the box of yarn and fabric on the concrete floor and nodded. "Always. What's it about?"

He found a place along the wall where there were no boxes and settled on the floor across from her. "Do you remember how it was when Puck went to Santa Fe last December?"

She nodded again, more slowly. "I think I know how hard it was for you, and for Kurt."

"It wasn't so different from this. We didn't know where he was, or how long he'd be gone." He took the scissors from his mom and slid them along the tape sealing the box beside him. The label on the box said Crafts, but when he opened the box, it was wrapping paper. She picked up the box and placed it on the pile along the far wall. "The thing is, this time, I'm not sure why I'm not freaking out. It's kind of getting to me."

She gave him a faint smile, reclaiming the scissors. "You're freaking out about… not freaking out?"

"I mean, of course I miss him," he said. "I miss everybody. Puck. Blaine. Carl. And —" He held up his hands helplessly. "I'm still not falling apart. Why am I not falling apart? Does that mean something about me? About — who I've become?"

"Maybe?" She came in close enough and took his hands. "I think that's mostly a good thing, honey. If you can deal with your own stuff, you're better for everybody else."

He laughed unhappily. "I don't really have a whole lot of everybody left."

"Finn, you have Kurt," she said, raising an eyebrow. "If you haven't noticed, I'm pretty crazy about him too. And Rachel, right?"

"Yeah. Rachel."

"And what about Sarah?"

Sarah. Finn thought about the look in her eyes when they'd arrived home today.

"She wasn't worried the last time he went away," he said. "When he was in Santa Fe, she was sure he was coming back. And she wasn't worried before, even when she knew Puck was with their dad. But now… she's scared. I can see it."

"Yes," said his mom. "She's scared. So because you're okay, you can be okay for her, even if she's not sure she can do it herself. That's how it is when you're in charge."

He heard the words and wondered if they meant the same thing to her as they did to him. "You mean, in charge like a parent, not in charge like… like I am with Puck."

"I mean any of those," she said softly. "It's not so different. Except kids don't consent to their own care. They have to deal with their parent, even if they're abusive."

Finn closed his eyes and took a long breath, letting it out. "Puck's dad," he said. "He used to be like that."

"Abusive?" Her voice was suddenly hard. "Finn, what do you mean?"

"I mean… I think it was just that his dad used to hit him. He told me about that. But maybe he meant other things, too? I don't really know. I just know… whatever it was, it messed him up. I don't want his dad messing him up any more."

"Me, either," she said emphatically.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. When she offered her arms, he went into them willingly, and even cried a little. It didn't feel uncomfortable.

"Thanks for being awesome," he told her, which made her smile.

"Thanks for asking to talk. That's pretty awesome, too."

Finn didn't bring up the way things were with Rachel and the thing she'd said to him about wanting his babies. For one thing, he wasn't sure he could get that detailed with his mom about his sex life. For another, the last time he'd talked to her about Rachel, she'd tried pretty hard to talk him out of being with her.

He also hadn't told his mother about the memories he had of visiting Puck's house when he was a kid, playing board games with little Sarah and seeing the bruises on her cheeks. They'd always needed to be extra quiet when Puck's dad was sleeping during the day. Maybe Finn hadn't realized exactly what that meant back then, but he'd known it wasn't good. Why hadn't he said something then?

The stir-fry hadn't filled him up. He went upstairs to the kitchen to make himself a grilled cheese sandwich, his feet heavy on the stairs. Messed up doesn't begin to cover it.