Fourth Prompt Post
Welcome to the Glee Angst Meme again! You know how these things work. You can come here and prompt your most angsty prompts, and write stories filling those angsty prompts to let our characters suffer
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Finn would've loved to, would have gone for it, and pounced like a mountain lion, if Quinn hadn't offered as he popped in a gumball. Next thing he knew, there was an unbearable pressure in his chest and a throbbing ache on his lower back where he'd hit the chair on the way down.
His mouth gaped open far longer than he thought, because he tried to swallow down the object clogging his throat, but it was like he'd sucked on cotton (which he knew from getting a tooth knocked out). It was like the time he hadn't properly chewed the last bit of burger, but a solid punch from Puck had taken care of that. And, okay, there was the time he'd choked on a cheese curl, but thanks to chemistry or biology or whatever, his spit made the cheese curl shrink to a Finn-friendly size.
Distantly, he could hear someone's name being called. It sounded like "Cheesus." It figured that he'd find a fellow worshipper of Cheesus at a time like this.
The first person Finn Hudson thought of was Drizzle. He found himself missing her, and realized that pre-Gumball, he had maybe planned to track her down and spoil her rotten as her favorite uncle or as godfather #1. He didn't give a crap how awesome Beth's adoptive mother was or how loaded; only over his dead body would he let her grow up without a big guy to take her hand and keep the boys away with a crowbar. Which was unfortunately going to go down, unless Puck shed his hawk and evolved into a caring person.
The next was his mom. Life was always going to hassle Carole Hudson. The summation of seventeen years of harried single parent living would culminate in a freak accident. He hated to do this to her, almost as much as Cheesus hated him and wanted him to die. Choking on a gum ball. Finn could practically hear her screaming at his funeral. "ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME, FINN HUDSON?" How was that for the headstone?
He was starting to see lights dancing in the corners of his blackened vision.
She wouldn't be alone. There was Burt and Kurt. Burt was better than any douche she'd dated in the past, and they would grow old together. Kurt could be like the girl that Carole always wanted ever since Drizzle.
And Kurt would give her man-babies and make her a real granny if he got over himself long enough to snag a decent guy. If only Finn had outlived the gumball, it would’ve been good times to scare away the bad eggs if Burt’s hunting rifles didn’t do the job the first time.
So Finn would die without making love to the girl he wanted to marry, without protecting the people who needed him, without dignity… but everyone else would be okay. They’d never let their kids chew gum, which sucked because the best thing about being a kid was chewing ten pieces of bubble yum! before all of your cavity-ridden baby teeth fall out and blowing a bubble the size of your head.
Well, Puck would argue that putting that ten-piece wad in Rachel Berry’s hair was the best thing about childhood, but whatever.
He could feel his tongue swelling, his eyes rolling back, and his lungs squeezing his heart mercilessly for release.
His life was over, and, like all major issues in his life, Finn Hudson was the last one to know.
Finn's first taste of death was sweet. And hard.
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