WIP - Perfect Sky is Torn
First, sorry that updates for Sina Libbu Ziana have ground to a halt. My family were not as cooperative with my "Use Christmas to write" plan as I'd have liked but do not worry as teams of trained monkeys are at work to bring things back up to speed. To provide a nice buffer and to clear up a fic that's been stagnating on my hard drive for a ve-heh-ry long time now, I'm joining in on tawgand laeathearcher's WIP-fest.
I started this for an entry on the first page of the prompt meme back before Season 2 started and then got majorly blocked on it when Season 2 started airing and contradicting things I'd written and making me all confuzzled. Then there were others fics I was writing instead and it fell into obscurity. But here it is, fresh from my hard drive with most of the dust blown off: The Big Epic Angst Fic!
Title: Perfect Sky is Torn
Author: dark_dreymer
Part: 1/10 (So far)
Word Count: 5835
Rating: R
Warnings: Angst, Language, Discussions of rape
Prompt: Sue finds out about Will/Finn and tells Figgins, and 'accidentally' lets it slip in front of the Cheerios to hurt Will.
Phobias are funny things. They stir up irrational reactions and invoke emotions far too big for the circumstance. A harmless, often insignificant object opens a portal to fear, panic or unease.
Finn had a phobia of marionette puppets. It stemmed back to an old black and white movie he'd watched as a child. The title, and indeed the majority of the plot, eluded his memory but he could recall one scene with near perfect accuracy from years of having seen it in nightmares. The hero sliced the strings of the evil, possessed puppet and it slumped over like a sack of particularly lethargic potatoes.
Immobile, helpless. What should have been a moment of triumph instead stirred up a terrible sense of unease in the young boy.
Two weeks into his junior year of High School, Finn felt what it was like to have his strings cut.
*
Several Glee related misdemeanors and a time or two playing hooky with Puck had earned Finn a visit to the Principal's office in the past, but a call to see Figgins was never a good thing and a familiar nervous tap-dance started in Finn's gut as he wondered what he was going to be punished for.
The nervous tap-dance grew into a nervous jitterbug when he arrived outside the office and saw that it was not only Figgins waiting for him inside. Detective Roberts was the police liaison for William McKinley and one or two other schools in the area. It was a job that mostly entailed showing up for an assembly every once in a while to wax poetic on the wonders of the police force while dressed in a shabby suit that suggested otherwise, or to remind everyone that drugs were bad. Taking a steady breath and trying to stop the agitated twitching of his fingers, Finn knocked on the door.
Inside he found himself under the gaze of three adults. Figgins sat behind his desk, his brows set into a disapproving line. Detective Roberts leaned against the desk and tapped a thin folder against his leg. Sue Sylvester lurked on the periphery like a shark.
The silence stretched uncomfortably for what felt like several minutes and Finn tried his hardest to fidget in as innocent a manner as he could manage while he waited for someone to speak. Eventually it was the Principal who spoke first.
“Mr. Hudson, I called you here because the Detective has some questions that he wishes for you to answer.”
It was obvious the policeman and Finn being in the same room was for some purpose other than a joke with a bad punchline, but he knew better than to point that fact out and so simply nodded.
Detective Roberts continued to tap the folder against his leg and turned his attention to Figgins, “I really think it would be best if the two of us were given some privacy.”
The shark struck swiftly, “Since the details you'll be discussing could very well affect this school I don't think you should be attempting to conceal them.”
“I can ensure that a report with any information this establishment might need to know will be delivered as soon as possible.”
Finn shuffled awkwardly as the heated staring contest between the detective and the coach stretched out but in the end Roberts yielded with a defeated sigh and slumped back, running a hand through his thinning hair and redirecting his attention towards Finn.
“Mr. Hudson...” The detective stretched the silence out as he unwrapped the rubber band from around the folder, “Does the name William Schuester mean anything to you?”
It struck like a lightning bolt, a white hot burst of fire directly up Finn's spine. In that moment he knew exactly why he was there and it terrified him. His lungs petrified and he took a few panicked breaths to try and fix the sudden tightness in his chest. He glanced across to Sue and saw through her expertly crafted mask, saw in her eyes the look of a hunter who has its prey cornered.
“Mr. Schue?” His attempt at soft confusion came out like a wheezy gasp and he stumbled over his words, “Yeah, h-he's... he's my Spanish teacher.”
Roberts made a noise of disinterested confirmation and flicked his eyes across the inside of the folder a few times before fixing his gaze levelly upon Finn again and asking his next question, “What would you say is your relationship with this Mr. Schuester?”
The strong protective instinct inborn in all of us that makes us willing to bend or break the societal concept of honesty for personal preservation kicked into overdrive in Finn's mind. Lie, his brain urged, Lie, lie, lie, lie... The word was a mantra, a compelling command.
“He's my Spanish teacher,” Finn repeated, this time a little more confident. “A-and he runs Glee club too... I, uhm, I'm in the Glee club.”
His feet were itching, as if a small army of ants had crawled into his sneakers. His lungs still felt solid and his fingers were trembling like they were suffering a localized earthquake. He grit his teeth and tried to hold his entire body still, sure that if he remained antsy it would be taken as a sign of guilt.
“Have you ever visited a place called Del Toros?” Detective Roberts' next question interrupted his attempt to become a living statue.
Bad Spanish, good food. Will's words.
“I don't think so...” Finn answered hesitantly, eager to lie but not sure how best to approach such an open question. “Toros... toros means bulls. Is it a place with bulls?”
“So if I were to tell you that Del Toros is a restaurant, that would be news to you. Correct?” The careful way the question was worded set off alarm bells for Finn, but he couldn't contradict himself and so hesitantly nodded.
The photograph showed Will and Finn together, to the side and above where they were standing was the sign for the Del Toros restaurant. As Roberts held the image before him Finn could feel his heart sinking.
“Is the man with you in this photo William Schuester?” The detective asked, yet it was clear from the tone of his voice that the question was a formality.
“Yes,” Finn replied, already mentally scrambling for a lie.
“And is the restaurant in the photograph Del Toros?” He used the same tone, a tone that suggested he already knew the answer.
“I didn't remember the name,” Finn answered defensively.
Roberts nodded neutrally and pressed onwards, “What were you and William Schuester doing together at this restaurant?”
“Tutoring.” The word slipped out before Finn had time to think it through, but once it had he rolled with it. “I'm not very good at Spanish and he thought some time around Spanish people and things might help me.”
“Did it help?” Roberts inquired and lifted a skeptical eyebrow.
“Uhm, not really...” Finn ventured carefully, worried that he might be asked to say something in Spanish if he claimed it had.
The uncomfortable silence returned and Finn prayed that Detective Roberts had run out of questions.
“I've got one other photo I'd like you to look at,” The detective stated evenly. Finn prayed it was of some Roberts Jr. with freckles and a missing tooth that the policeman was unbearably proud of and just had to show off. “Is this photo of you and William Schuester?”
It was a little darker than the first photo, a little later in the evening. Outside Del Toros once again, Will smiling and happy with Finn plastered to his side, placing an intimate kiss on his cheek. As he looked at the joy in the photograph, a phantom sensation of what he had felt in that moment struck Finn but instead of warmth it was nausea that began to marinate in his stomach.
He looked away from the damning evidence of the photograph and found himself again staring into the hunter's eyes of Sue Sylvester. They were not simply the eyes of a predator that has smelled blood, it was the cruel and icy gaze of a predator that has hunted down, killed and smeared the victim's blood about in a murderous frenzy.
Anger blazed inside of Finn in that moment. She had followed them, two towns over and skulked about outside Del Toros with a camera so that she could destroy their relationship and devastate their lives.
Taking Finn's prolonged silence as a confession, the detective returned the photographs to the folder and sealed it again with the rubber band.
“There are going to be some more questions but those will have to be down at the station.”
Roberts spent some time discussing what further actions would be taken with Sue and Figgins but Finn paid no attention to them. Defeat had settled heavily over him, the only positive to come from that was that he didn't need to lie any more.
“Where's Will?” The adults stopped talking but none of them answered. “Where's Will?” Finn tried again, “Can I see him?” His voice sounded fragile, scared.
*
At the station Roberts handed Finn over to a woman who introduced herself as Dr. Harper and then promptly stopped talking to him while she read through a folder that might have been the same one the detective had at the school or an entirely new one.
Finn watched enough TV to realize that the room he and Dr. Harper were sharing wasn't an interrogation room. It was furnished like an office but the room felt vacant, the posters on the walls were very generic and the desk was empty of photo frames, bobble-headed dogs or anything else that might have given it a touch of personality. He got the impression that the room was available to all for short notice meetings rather than being personally reserved for one person.
Dr. Harper herself was also an oddity: a round woman with a round face and, as if to defy the circular trend, rectangular glasses and thin, angular eyebrows. She wasn't a policewoman and every minute she spent reading through the folder without acknowledging Finn was even there only served to make him more irritable.
“So, Finn...” She set the folder down slowly and spoke in a soft, pleasant manner, “Do you mind if I call you Finn?” She cocked her head to one side slightly.
“It's my name,” Finn answered bluntly.
“Good,” She stretched the word into a long 'ooo' sound and Finn felt that her tone didn't express much happiness about the fact. “Now, there are some things that I want us to talk about but first I need you to know something: I'm your friend, okay?”
“Okay,” Finn parroted without conviction.
“So I need you to know that you can trust me. Do you trust me?”
“Sure, why not,” Finn muttered sarcastically. His heart was slow-boiling in dread and terror while they sat there and she was acting like they were in elementary school.
Though her manner might not have shown it, Dr. Harper was a professional and so she didn't miss Finn's hostility.
“I understand how you must be feeling. This is a very scary and confusing time for you, but I - we - just want to help you as best we can. Is there anything I can get for you?”
“Will,” Finn answered immediately. He'd pestered Roberts about it on the ride over and the man working at the front desk but so far nobody had listened, “Let me see Will.”
The doctor ran her tongue across the front of her shiny teeth, making a quiet slurping sound, “I was thinking something more along the lines of tea or coffee. Juice, perhaps.”
“I want to see him,” Finn insisted adamantly.
“I'm afraid that's not possible at this time.”
“Then at least tell me where he is, if he's okay,” Finn pleaded.
The shiny pink tongue made a few more voyages across the front of Dr. Harper's teeth in what Finn figured must be a habit for coping with stress, “I don't know everything, but Mr. Schuester is being interviewed by a couple of officers at this station. He is perfectly safe and well.”
“Interviewed?” Finn repeated incredulously, “You mean interrogated.” He tried not to think about Will, locked away in this building somewhere with two men trying to break him down mentally and emotionally.
“You care about him very much, don't you?” Dr. Harper asked, a touch of sadness in her voice.
“Yes,” Finn declared in defiance of her tone. “I love him.”
Her face dipped for a moment and then recovered, “Finn, it's common in cases such as yours for feelings like this to develop but you need to understand that what Mr. Schuester did to you was wrong.”
“No,” Finn's tone was a little firmer. “Will loves me and I love him, there's nothing 'wrong' with that.”
“You're a minor.” Her voice seemed to be getting sadder every time she spoke, “That makes him guilty of statutory rape.”
“He didn't rape me.” Finn's anger rose in counter to the doctor's increasing melancholy. Then, as if some angel had landed to give mercy where it rightfully belonged, Finn knew exactly what to say, “W-we, that is... he and I,” He stumbled deliberately, feigning embarrassment. “We've never had sex.”
Dr. Harper's gloom broke suddenly and she excused herself. A short while later Detective Roberts returned along with another detective, a short man with a face like a brick: red, square and hard.
“You should be aware that if we find out you're lying to us you can be charged with obstructing a police investigation.” Brickface didn't bother to introduce himself and instead went straight into attack mode.
“That can land you in a youth offender's facility for up to two years, son,” Roberts added with a gentle frown. “Don't get yourself in trouble trying to defend him.”
If they find out, Finn reminded himself. They had a photo of him kissing Will, no more than that and so long as neither he nor Will confessed they would be unable to prove anything.
*
After several hours, they agreed to let Finn go and he was more than happy to finally get out of Dr. Harper's ghost office. As he stepped out of the room, he spotted his mom and his momentary burst of happiness to know she was there to comfort him quickly faded when he saw the tension radiating through her.
“Finn, oh my baby boy.” The tackle he received was as strong as any he'd ever endured on the field.
“Hi Mom,” Finn wheezed and awkwardly returned the hug.
“What did he do to you? How long has it been going on and I didn't know about it? Why didn't you tell me?” Carole Hudson shot question after question into her son's shoulder as she hugged him tightly, as if the power she'd had to protect from the nasty things that haunted Finn as a child would still work in the present day.
“Mom it's... it's not like that, I'm fine, I...” Finn tried to interrupt her string of demanding and self-deprecating questions, seeing his mom so upset was painful to watch. “Mom, really I'm fine.”
“You're so brave, putting up with all this.” She placed both hands to Finn's cheeks and pulled him down so she could place a kiss on his forehead.
He squirmed in the embrace, partly from embarrassment and partly because she was so confused as to what was happening and he felt a desperate need to correct her.
“I swear, I want to kill that Will Schuester,” Carole boldly announced once she'd pulled away.
The venom in her tone shocked Finn, “Mom, please you've got to listen...”
Burt sidled over from where he'd been waiting, he looked as uncomfortable as Finn felt, “We ready to go?”
“Let's,” Carole declared readily. “I don't want to stay here a moment longer.”
The drama kicked off as they were leaving. Finn would've appreciated it if time had slowed down like in the movies, so that maybe he'd have had time to recognize what was happening and prevent it. He wasn't that lucky.
“You,” Carole threw the word out as if it were the foulest insult imaginable; marching towards a harrowed and weary Will Schuester she poked him sharply in the chest, “You stay the hell away from my son or I swear I will make you wish you had never been born.”
“Mom!” Finn was close behind his mother in his ability to speak a common word as if it tasted bad; grabbing her shoulder he pulled her back, “Just leave it, please.”
The Hellfire fury of a scorned woman drained quickly out of Mrs. Hudson as she noticed the attention she'd attracted.
Will meekly caught his eye and Finn wanted nothing more in that moment than to pull his lover close and ignore the harsh pains the day had brought to them both. He tried his hardest to express that sentiment through nothing more than a look before reluctantly following his mom out into the parking lot.
*
It was late by the time they got home, too late to cook, so Carole heated up a tin of spaghetti with mini sausages in it for Finn. She didn't eat anything herself. Finn sluggishly poked through the orange mass in search of sausages and reflected that a few years ago this meal would've been enough to brighten his day, at that moment it didn't raise even the ghost of a smile.
The tension at the table was what most woman considered ideal qualities in a man; strong, but silent. After a few minutes Finn simply couldn't handle it any longer and set his fork down.
“I love him.”
“What?” It was a casual response, no anger, only simple confusion, as if she'd simply misheard.
“Will,” Finn elaborated. “He didn't seduce me against my will or anything. I love him.”
The silence made a comeback before Carole found words again, “Finn.” Another brief pause, “You're confused... and you'll see that in time.”
“I'm not confused, this is one of the least confusing things ever. I just know it, I love him and he loves me.”
“No, I love you,” Carole's voice wavered but she pressed on. “Burt and Kurt, they love you. We want what's best for you. That man doesn't care about you and everything he's ever told you is a lie.”
“You don't even know him,” Finn shouted, all the frustrations of the day piling up quickly around him.
“I know that no man his age should be chasing teenagers,” Carole argued back firmly. “Especially someone in his position. It isn't right to abuse his power like that.”
“He didn't abuse his power. He wasn't, like, giving me detention so we could make out or anything.”
“He raped you, Finn,” Carole insisted, her voice quiet and her face very white.
Finn sat silently for a moment, unable to think of a response to a statement that felt so wrong; standing abruptly, he left the room without another word. After taking a few moments to try and pull herself together, Carole made her way over to the sink to start washing the mound of dishes that had accumulated over the past couple of days. The sound of water filling the basin covered her quiet crying while the plate of lukewarm beans on the table slowly congealed.
*
As Finn lay in bed tossing and turning and stewed in his anger, across town Will was similarly sleepless. The harsh glare of muted, late-night TV was the only illumination in the whole apartment and the companionship of a half-empty beer was not as comforting as he had hoped it would be.
The largely-anticipated knock at the door sounded halfway through what was either a perfume or tampon commercial judging from the visual of a dancing woman, the appearance of a jug of blue liquid would determine one way or the other but Will was not invested enough to wait for the result.
“Mrs. Hudson, Mr. Hummel,” Will greeted the couple uncertainly.
“Mr. Schuester.” Carole's tone was similarly unsteady, “Can we talk to you?”
“If it's to tell me again what you'll do to me should I ever come within ten feet of your son again, believe me the message was more than received before.” Despite his dry tone Will continued the attempt at polite decency they all seemed to be making and stepped aside, inviting them in.
Will considered offering something to drink: tea or something stronger, though the latter was largely wishful thinking as he felt it would probably help him through the inevitable confrontation. He dismissed the idea sharply when it became clear that none of them were very comfortable in the situation, standing stiffly in the continuing quiet of the evening rather than taking the opportunity to sit down.
“What was it you wanted to talk about?” Will inquired as a way to start the conversation, because there was no doubt as to what the discussion would be about.
“Why did you choose my son?” Carole asked.
Will took a couple of breaths before speaking, “What exactly do you want me to say?”
“Just help me to understand,” Carole insisted, a fragile quaver in her voice.
“Your son is...” Will smiled, a slow, unhappy smile and dropped his gaze to the carpet. “He's amazing. He carries all this weight on his shoulders, faces up to things that in a fair world he would never have to, and he does it all with a smile on his face, does his best to never let it get him down.” Will's words had warmth, but underneath his chest ached viciously, “When he confessed his feelings for me I knew that I shouldn't feel the same way, that I couldn't let myself feel the same way, but honestly, I don't think I've ever cared for someone the way I did for Finn at that moment.”
“So my son, my sixteen-year-old boy, tells you he's got a crush on you and you think it's fine to take advantage of that?” The pretense began to shake as anger crept back into Carole's voice.
“I've dealt with crushes before but this wasn't a crush. This was something more than that.”
Finn's sudden confession back in the kitchen ran through her mind but Carole refused to accept it, “He's young, he's confused... he isn't even gay for fuck's sake!”
“All evidence to the contrary,” Will mumbled irritably.
Burt, who had been looming silently, bristled at the comment and came to Carole's aid, “A few months back he was freaking out at Kurt, calling his stuff 'faggy'. That sound like something a gay kid would do?”
“It sounds like a confused young man, looking to the only other gay person he knows and worrying that if he gives into his feelings he'll become exactly like that person,” Will answered calmly.
“Don't!” Carole hissed suddenly, stepping forward and poking Will in chest as she spoke, like she'd done at the police station, “Don't act like you know my son better than me. I'm his mother and you, you're just some... pervert.”
The insult stung and the spot on his chest was getting sore from her prodding, “When was the last time you talked to Finn?” He asked. “Do you do it often or do you wait for everything to come crashing down around him so you can swoop in and pick up the pieces?”
“I, I do my best,” Carole muttered uncertainly. Will felt it was a small victory that he'd blindsided her enough to make her stop poking him.
“What do you do with him?” Burt inquired, unimpressed. “A lot more than just talking I'd bet.”
Will felt his heart slam into his ribcage in panic, until he reminded himself of the revelation in the police station earlier: Finn was willing to lie for him. “Kids stuff mostly; like you said, he's young. Kissing, making out... he isn't really ready for more than that.”
“And if you hadn't been caught, if you'd had more time?” Burt's eyebrow rose slowly, his tone was soft like the padding footsteps of an approaching panther.
Will gulped but accepted that admitting to that was the closest he could get to the truth without risking a prison sentence, “Yes, I'd have... I would've had sex with him.”
Will figured he must have blacked out for an instant because before he could register it, he'd stumbled back several feet, his jaw was aflame with screaming nerve endings and Burt was rubbing the knuckles of his right hand to soothe them.
Lifting a hand to trace across his mouth and examining the drops of blood at his fingertips thoughtfully Will looked up, his eyes openly displaying his feelings, “I deserved that.”
“And a helluva lot more besides,” Burt added firmly.
Will felt with certainty that if they had known the truth Carole and Burt would be spending that moment panicking and making hasty plans on where to hide his body.
When it seemed like neither of them was going to ask him anything more, Will folded his arms across his chest defensively and looked at them both, “Is there anything else you wanted to ask me?” When neither answered he accepted that as a 'no', “Then, I just want to say that even if you disapprove; I love Finn and Finn loves-”
“No,” Carole interrupted, not with an angry roar but instead a heated whisper. “No, he doesn't love you. You're going to make sure he knows that.”
“What do...” Will stumbled to a stop. For all her meekness a moment before Carole was glaring at him unwaveringly, her spine as strong as steel.
“Make sure he knows that you and he are never going to be together, then leave him and never dare to come back. I don't want Finn to ever catch even a glimpse of your shadow. I want him to forget that you exist and live a long and happy life.”
Will felt as if he'd been impaled by something jagged, but it was Burt's honest assessment that really got through to him, “If you really cared about him you'd give him the chance to lead a normal life. You owe him that much.”
“I can do that,” Will promised dejectedly.
Carole and Burt left somewhat awkwardly but Will didn't pay them much attention. As he sank back down onto the couch the TV was airing the logo for a funeral firm, Will raised his bottle in salute to the image that so well suited his mood.
*
Finn found Will in his office the following morning.
“What happened to you?” Finn asked worriedly as he caught sight of Will's puffy split lip.
“I, uh, walked into a door,” Will offered lamely.
“What happened?” Finn repeated, not at all fooled by the lie.
“Your parents really care about you,” Will answered vaguely.
“My parents?” Finn's features settled into a look of comprehension as he recalled his Mom's impromptu date with Burt the night before. “Please, tell me they didn't,” He begged, horrified.
“They care about you, that's not a bad thing,” Will responded reassuringly.
“Oh, I know how much they care,” Finn replied darkly. “They care enough to keep me safe from the big bad rapist, but not enough to listen when I tell them that I love you.”
Will placed a comforting hand on Finn's shoulder, “Give them time, they'll come round. It's just a shock right now.”
“Yeah.” Finn breathed the tension out and smiled a little, “At least I've still got you.”
“Yeah,” Will replied, though he lacked the same conviction.
“What?” Finn snapped the question, fearful of what Will's hesitance meant. When he caught sight of a half-packed box and took in his surroundings for the first time, he realized what had happened.
“They can't fire you,” Finn insisted, as if sheer willpower alone could make it true.
“They can't not fire me,” Will corrected glumly. “I got off free on the statutory charge but they had enough evidence to make sure I can never work in a school again.”
“This... this is stupid,” Finn felt himself trembling with rage. “We'll start a petition. Everyone in Glee will sign; how many signatures do you think we'll need?”
“It's legal Finn, we can't fight this.” Will took hold of Finn's arms, squeezing gently.
“We can't just do nothing,” Finn insisted, sinking into the embrace and resting his chin on Will's shoulder.
“You won't be doing nothing,” Will tried to calm him. “You'll have classes and football and Glee, if someone takes over from me. You'll graduate and go to college and have a life.”
“And what about you?” Finn pulled away to look Will in the eye.
“I'll... find something,” Will answered vaguely.
“Why are you talking like we're never going to see each other again?”
Will sighed and turned away, beginning to empty the top drawer of his desk into the box, “Because perhaps that would be for the best.”
“The best?” Finn spluttered. “No, no... there's that cafe on 22nd street that has 'The Best Apple Pie in Ohio', I've tasted that pie Will. This isn't apple pie... this, this is bullshit!”
“You've got to understand-”
“No, you've got to understand,” Finn interrupted. “I love you, okay. I don't care what the police or my mom or anybody thinks about that. I love you and if you try to disappear I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth.”
The passion in Finn's words was magnetic and Will pulled his young lover into a deep kiss, it was harsh with anger and desperation at first but swiftly softened into something more reminiscent of the kisses they'd shared in the past.
When they pulled apart they stayed wrapped in each others' arms, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
“I love you too,” Will whispered, placing his palm to Finn's cheek and rubbing a thumb over his glistening lower lip.
“When will I see you again?”
“I don't know.”
“But I will see you again, right?” Finn pressed urgently.
Will considered the honest answer to the question alongside the promise he had made to Carole, he knew he shouldn't sow the seeds of false hope and risk hurting Finn but when had he ever done what he should when it came to Finn?
“You said you'd hunt me to the ends of the Earth, I promise I won't run that far.” Will smiled and pulled Finn close again. The couple let their embrace linger and Finn clung to Will, trying his hardest to remember all the things he loved so much about being in Will's arms, from the feel of his fingers stroking the soft hairs at the nape of Finn's neck to the subtle smell of fabric softener Finn could always smell on his sweater-vest.
He insisted on carrying Will's box to his car. It didn't seem possible that everything that tied Will Schuester to the school could fit into that one small box, that his presence could be scrubbed clean so easily.
“Well hey there buddy, I was just getting the Cheerios ready for our morning practice and I guess I plain forgot you'd be clearing out today.” The mock-cheerful tone of a gloating Sue Sylvester greeted them as they stepped out into the hall; a small selection of the cheerleading squad were lingering behind her.
“Funny that you'd forget something you learned only yesterday. Senile dementia kicking in?” Will returned fire with false-concern. Finn felt a small lick of pride that his lover was going down fighting, Sue was going to be a lot worse with no-one around to stand up to her ego.
“Well I don't know William, let me see if I have my facts straight. You are fired, shamed, and rightfully so, for having sex with Teen Hulk here.” She turned her attention temporarily to Finn before turning back to Will and adopting a holier-than-thou tone, “Honestly, as if the indiscriminate sex with various women wasn't enough, you turn your devious sights on your students. Despicable!”
Turning away Sue sauntered off down the corridor, clearly pleased with the outcome of their exchange. The Cheerios skipped off after their coach, skirts and lips flapping in a frenzy as they discussed the revelation; by the end of the day the entire school would know and at least three wild variations to the story would have spawned. Finn felt his heart, only recently buoyed up by Will, sink back down into his sneakers.
“Oh and William...” Sue called over her shoulder, “Your hair is still awful.”
“Are you okay?” Finn asked tentatively.
“She is a monster,” Will answered calmly. He sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Finn set the box down and pulled Will into his arms again, “Finn, don't. Someone'll see.”
“The whole school is going to know by the end of today and right now you need a hug,” Finn reasoned.
Will settled his head on Finn's shoulder, “Life's gonna suck until you graduate. You know that, right?”
“Life's gonna suck for you too, it's not fair that I should get away free.” Finn ran his fingers through Will's curls comfortingly.
“I'm sorry.”
“It's not your fault,” Finn reminded.
Will broke the embrace hesitantly and picked the box with his belongings in it up, “If I don't leave now, I never will.”
“So don't,” Finn pleaded.
“I have to.” Will turned and started walking away.
“I love you,” Finn called after him.
Will stopped still and turned back, gray-green eyes shining with tears, but a playful smile graced his face as he answered, “Love you more.”
Finn returned the smile somewhat shakily and stayed where he was, his heart heavy as he watched Will Schuester walk away until he turned a corner and was gone.
I started this for an entry on the first page of the prompt meme back before Season 2 started and then got majorly blocked on it when Season 2 started airing and contradicting things I'd written and making me all confuzzled. Then there were others fics I was writing instead and it fell into obscurity. But here it is, fresh from my hard drive with most of the dust blown off: The Big Epic Angst Fic!
Title: Perfect Sky is Torn
Author: dark_dreymer
Part: 1/10 (So far)
Word Count: 5835
Rating: R
Warnings: Angst, Language, Discussions of rape
Prompt: Sue finds out about Will/Finn and tells Figgins, and 'accidentally' lets it slip in front of the Cheerios to hurt Will.
Phobias are funny things. They stir up irrational reactions and invoke emotions far too big for the circumstance. A harmless, often insignificant object opens a portal to fear, panic or unease.
Finn had a phobia of marionette puppets. It stemmed back to an old black and white movie he'd watched as a child. The title, and indeed the majority of the plot, eluded his memory but he could recall one scene with near perfect accuracy from years of having seen it in nightmares. The hero sliced the strings of the evil, possessed puppet and it slumped over like a sack of particularly lethargic potatoes.
Immobile, helpless. What should have been a moment of triumph instead stirred up a terrible sense of unease in the young boy.
Two weeks into his junior year of High School, Finn felt what it was like to have his strings cut.
*
Several Glee related misdemeanors and a time or two playing hooky with Puck had earned Finn a visit to the Principal's office in the past, but a call to see Figgins was never a good thing and a familiar nervous tap-dance started in Finn's gut as he wondered what he was going to be punished for.
The nervous tap-dance grew into a nervous jitterbug when he arrived outside the office and saw that it was not only Figgins waiting for him inside. Detective Roberts was the police liaison for William McKinley and one or two other schools in the area. It was a job that mostly entailed showing up for an assembly every once in a while to wax poetic on the wonders of the police force while dressed in a shabby suit that suggested otherwise, or to remind everyone that drugs were bad. Taking a steady breath and trying to stop the agitated twitching of his fingers, Finn knocked on the door.
Inside he found himself under the gaze of three adults. Figgins sat behind his desk, his brows set into a disapproving line. Detective Roberts leaned against the desk and tapped a thin folder against his leg. Sue Sylvester lurked on the periphery like a shark.
The silence stretched uncomfortably for what felt like several minutes and Finn tried his hardest to fidget in as innocent a manner as he could manage while he waited for someone to speak. Eventually it was the Principal who spoke first.
“Mr. Hudson, I called you here because the Detective has some questions that he wishes for you to answer.”
It was obvious the policeman and Finn being in the same room was for some purpose other than a joke with a bad punchline, but he knew better than to point that fact out and so simply nodded.
Detective Roberts continued to tap the folder against his leg and turned his attention to Figgins, “I really think it would be best if the two of us were given some privacy.”
The shark struck swiftly, “Since the details you'll be discussing could very well affect this school I don't think you should be attempting to conceal them.”
“I can ensure that a report with any information this establishment might need to know will be delivered as soon as possible.”
Finn shuffled awkwardly as the heated staring contest between the detective and the coach stretched out but in the end Roberts yielded with a defeated sigh and slumped back, running a hand through his thinning hair and redirecting his attention towards Finn.
“Mr. Hudson...” The detective stretched the silence out as he unwrapped the rubber band from around the folder, “Does the name William Schuester mean anything to you?”
It struck like a lightning bolt, a white hot burst of fire directly up Finn's spine. In that moment he knew exactly why he was there and it terrified him. His lungs petrified and he took a few panicked breaths to try and fix the sudden tightness in his chest. He glanced across to Sue and saw through her expertly crafted mask, saw in her eyes the look of a hunter who has its prey cornered.
“Mr. Schue?” His attempt at soft confusion came out like a wheezy gasp and he stumbled over his words, “Yeah, h-he's... he's my Spanish teacher.”
Roberts made a noise of disinterested confirmation and flicked his eyes across the inside of the folder a few times before fixing his gaze levelly upon Finn again and asking his next question, “What would you say is your relationship with this Mr. Schuester?”
The strong protective instinct inborn in all of us that makes us willing to bend or break the societal concept of honesty for personal preservation kicked into overdrive in Finn's mind. Lie, his brain urged, Lie, lie, lie, lie... The word was a mantra, a compelling command.
“He's my Spanish teacher,” Finn repeated, this time a little more confident. “A-and he runs Glee club too... I, uhm, I'm in the Glee club.”
His feet were itching, as if a small army of ants had crawled into his sneakers. His lungs still felt solid and his fingers were trembling like they were suffering a localized earthquake. He grit his teeth and tried to hold his entire body still, sure that if he remained antsy it would be taken as a sign of guilt.
“Have you ever visited a place called Del Toros?” Detective Roberts' next question interrupted his attempt to become a living statue.
Bad Spanish, good food. Will's words.
“I don't think so...” Finn answered hesitantly, eager to lie but not sure how best to approach such an open question. “Toros... toros means bulls. Is it a place with bulls?”
“So if I were to tell you that Del Toros is a restaurant, that would be news to you. Correct?” The careful way the question was worded set off alarm bells for Finn, but he couldn't contradict himself and so hesitantly nodded.
The photograph showed Will and Finn together, to the side and above where they were standing was the sign for the Del Toros restaurant. As Roberts held the image before him Finn could feel his heart sinking.
“Is the man with you in this photo William Schuester?” The detective asked, yet it was clear from the tone of his voice that the question was a formality.
“Yes,” Finn replied, already mentally scrambling for a lie.
“And is the restaurant in the photograph Del Toros?” He used the same tone, a tone that suggested he already knew the answer.
“I didn't remember the name,” Finn answered defensively.
Roberts nodded neutrally and pressed onwards, “What were you and William Schuester doing together at this restaurant?”
“Tutoring.” The word slipped out before Finn had time to think it through, but once it had he rolled with it. “I'm not very good at Spanish and he thought some time around Spanish people and things might help me.”
“Did it help?” Roberts inquired and lifted a skeptical eyebrow.
“Uhm, not really...” Finn ventured carefully, worried that he might be asked to say something in Spanish if he claimed it had.
The uncomfortable silence returned and Finn prayed that Detective Roberts had run out of questions.
“I've got one other photo I'd like you to look at,” The detective stated evenly. Finn prayed it was of some Roberts Jr. with freckles and a missing tooth that the policeman was unbearably proud of and just had to show off. “Is this photo of you and William Schuester?”
It was a little darker than the first photo, a little later in the evening. Outside Del Toros once again, Will smiling and happy with Finn plastered to his side, placing an intimate kiss on his cheek. As he looked at the joy in the photograph, a phantom sensation of what he had felt in that moment struck Finn but instead of warmth it was nausea that began to marinate in his stomach.
He looked away from the damning evidence of the photograph and found himself again staring into the hunter's eyes of Sue Sylvester. They were not simply the eyes of a predator that has smelled blood, it was the cruel and icy gaze of a predator that has hunted down, killed and smeared the victim's blood about in a murderous frenzy.
Anger blazed inside of Finn in that moment. She had followed them, two towns over and skulked about outside Del Toros with a camera so that she could destroy their relationship and devastate their lives.
Taking Finn's prolonged silence as a confession, the detective returned the photographs to the folder and sealed it again with the rubber band.
“There are going to be some more questions but those will have to be down at the station.”
Roberts spent some time discussing what further actions would be taken with Sue and Figgins but Finn paid no attention to them. Defeat had settled heavily over him, the only positive to come from that was that he didn't need to lie any more.
“Where's Will?” The adults stopped talking but none of them answered. “Where's Will?” Finn tried again, “Can I see him?” His voice sounded fragile, scared.
*
At the station Roberts handed Finn over to a woman who introduced herself as Dr. Harper and then promptly stopped talking to him while she read through a folder that might have been the same one the detective had at the school or an entirely new one.
Finn watched enough TV to realize that the room he and Dr. Harper were sharing wasn't an interrogation room. It was furnished like an office but the room felt vacant, the posters on the walls were very generic and the desk was empty of photo frames, bobble-headed dogs or anything else that might have given it a touch of personality. He got the impression that the room was available to all for short notice meetings rather than being personally reserved for one person.
Dr. Harper herself was also an oddity: a round woman with a round face and, as if to defy the circular trend, rectangular glasses and thin, angular eyebrows. She wasn't a policewoman and every minute she spent reading through the folder without acknowledging Finn was even there only served to make him more irritable.
“So, Finn...” She set the folder down slowly and spoke in a soft, pleasant manner, “Do you mind if I call you Finn?” She cocked her head to one side slightly.
“It's my name,” Finn answered bluntly.
“Good,” She stretched the word into a long 'ooo' sound and Finn felt that her tone didn't express much happiness about the fact. “Now, there are some things that I want us to talk about but first I need you to know something: I'm your friend, okay?”
“Okay,” Finn parroted without conviction.
“So I need you to know that you can trust me. Do you trust me?”
“Sure, why not,” Finn muttered sarcastically. His heart was slow-boiling in dread and terror while they sat there and she was acting like they were in elementary school.
Though her manner might not have shown it, Dr. Harper was a professional and so she didn't miss Finn's hostility.
“I understand how you must be feeling. This is a very scary and confusing time for you, but I - we - just want to help you as best we can. Is there anything I can get for you?”
“Will,” Finn answered immediately. He'd pestered Roberts about it on the ride over and the man working at the front desk but so far nobody had listened, “Let me see Will.”
The doctor ran her tongue across the front of her shiny teeth, making a quiet slurping sound, “I was thinking something more along the lines of tea or coffee. Juice, perhaps.”
“I want to see him,” Finn insisted adamantly.
“I'm afraid that's not possible at this time.”
“Then at least tell me where he is, if he's okay,” Finn pleaded.
The shiny pink tongue made a few more voyages across the front of Dr. Harper's teeth in what Finn figured must be a habit for coping with stress, “I don't know everything, but Mr. Schuester is being interviewed by a couple of officers at this station. He is perfectly safe and well.”
“Interviewed?” Finn repeated incredulously, “You mean interrogated.” He tried not to think about Will, locked away in this building somewhere with two men trying to break him down mentally and emotionally.
“You care about him very much, don't you?” Dr. Harper asked, a touch of sadness in her voice.
“Yes,” Finn declared in defiance of her tone. “I love him.”
Her face dipped for a moment and then recovered, “Finn, it's common in cases such as yours for feelings like this to develop but you need to understand that what Mr. Schuester did to you was wrong.”
“No,” Finn's tone was a little firmer. “Will loves me and I love him, there's nothing 'wrong' with that.”
“You're a minor.” Her voice seemed to be getting sadder every time she spoke, “That makes him guilty of statutory rape.”
“He didn't rape me.” Finn's anger rose in counter to the doctor's increasing melancholy. Then, as if some angel had landed to give mercy where it rightfully belonged, Finn knew exactly what to say, “W-we, that is... he and I,” He stumbled deliberately, feigning embarrassment. “We've never had sex.”
Dr. Harper's gloom broke suddenly and she excused herself. A short while later Detective Roberts returned along with another detective, a short man with a face like a brick: red, square and hard.
“You should be aware that if we find out you're lying to us you can be charged with obstructing a police investigation.” Brickface didn't bother to introduce himself and instead went straight into attack mode.
“That can land you in a youth offender's facility for up to two years, son,” Roberts added with a gentle frown. “Don't get yourself in trouble trying to defend him.”
If they find out, Finn reminded himself. They had a photo of him kissing Will, no more than that and so long as neither he nor Will confessed they would be unable to prove anything.
*
After several hours, they agreed to let Finn go and he was more than happy to finally get out of Dr. Harper's ghost office. As he stepped out of the room, he spotted his mom and his momentary burst of happiness to know she was there to comfort him quickly faded when he saw the tension radiating through her.
“Finn, oh my baby boy.” The tackle he received was as strong as any he'd ever endured on the field.
“Hi Mom,” Finn wheezed and awkwardly returned the hug.
“What did he do to you? How long has it been going on and I didn't know about it? Why didn't you tell me?” Carole Hudson shot question after question into her son's shoulder as she hugged him tightly, as if the power she'd had to protect from the nasty things that haunted Finn as a child would still work in the present day.
“Mom it's... it's not like that, I'm fine, I...” Finn tried to interrupt her string of demanding and self-deprecating questions, seeing his mom so upset was painful to watch. “Mom, really I'm fine.”
“You're so brave, putting up with all this.” She placed both hands to Finn's cheeks and pulled him down so she could place a kiss on his forehead.
He squirmed in the embrace, partly from embarrassment and partly because she was so confused as to what was happening and he felt a desperate need to correct her.
“I swear, I want to kill that Will Schuester,” Carole boldly announced once she'd pulled away.
The venom in her tone shocked Finn, “Mom, please you've got to listen...”
Burt sidled over from where he'd been waiting, he looked as uncomfortable as Finn felt, “We ready to go?”
“Let's,” Carole declared readily. “I don't want to stay here a moment longer.”
The drama kicked off as they were leaving. Finn would've appreciated it if time had slowed down like in the movies, so that maybe he'd have had time to recognize what was happening and prevent it. He wasn't that lucky.
“You,” Carole threw the word out as if it were the foulest insult imaginable; marching towards a harrowed and weary Will Schuester she poked him sharply in the chest, “You stay the hell away from my son or I swear I will make you wish you had never been born.”
“Mom!” Finn was close behind his mother in his ability to speak a common word as if it tasted bad; grabbing her shoulder he pulled her back, “Just leave it, please.”
The Hellfire fury of a scorned woman drained quickly out of Mrs. Hudson as she noticed the attention she'd attracted.
Will meekly caught his eye and Finn wanted nothing more in that moment than to pull his lover close and ignore the harsh pains the day had brought to them both. He tried his hardest to express that sentiment through nothing more than a look before reluctantly following his mom out into the parking lot.
*
It was late by the time they got home, too late to cook, so Carole heated up a tin of spaghetti with mini sausages in it for Finn. She didn't eat anything herself. Finn sluggishly poked through the orange mass in search of sausages and reflected that a few years ago this meal would've been enough to brighten his day, at that moment it didn't raise even the ghost of a smile.
The tension at the table was what most woman considered ideal qualities in a man; strong, but silent. After a few minutes Finn simply couldn't handle it any longer and set his fork down.
“I love him.”
“What?” It was a casual response, no anger, only simple confusion, as if she'd simply misheard.
“Will,” Finn elaborated. “He didn't seduce me against my will or anything. I love him.”
The silence made a comeback before Carole found words again, “Finn.” Another brief pause, “You're confused... and you'll see that in time.”
“I'm not confused, this is one of the least confusing things ever. I just know it, I love him and he loves me.”
“No, I love you,” Carole's voice wavered but she pressed on. “Burt and Kurt, they love you. We want what's best for you. That man doesn't care about you and everything he's ever told you is a lie.”
“You don't even know him,” Finn shouted, all the frustrations of the day piling up quickly around him.
“I know that no man his age should be chasing teenagers,” Carole argued back firmly. “Especially someone in his position. It isn't right to abuse his power like that.”
“He didn't abuse his power. He wasn't, like, giving me detention so we could make out or anything.”
“He raped you, Finn,” Carole insisted, her voice quiet and her face very white.
Finn sat silently for a moment, unable to think of a response to a statement that felt so wrong; standing abruptly, he left the room without another word. After taking a few moments to try and pull herself together, Carole made her way over to the sink to start washing the mound of dishes that had accumulated over the past couple of days. The sound of water filling the basin covered her quiet crying while the plate of lukewarm beans on the table slowly congealed.
*
As Finn lay in bed tossing and turning and stewed in his anger, across town Will was similarly sleepless. The harsh glare of muted, late-night TV was the only illumination in the whole apartment and the companionship of a half-empty beer was not as comforting as he had hoped it would be.
The largely-anticipated knock at the door sounded halfway through what was either a perfume or tampon commercial judging from the visual of a dancing woman, the appearance of a jug of blue liquid would determine one way or the other but Will was not invested enough to wait for the result.
“Mrs. Hudson, Mr. Hummel,” Will greeted the couple uncertainly.
“Mr. Schuester.” Carole's tone was similarly unsteady, “Can we talk to you?”
“If it's to tell me again what you'll do to me should I ever come within ten feet of your son again, believe me the message was more than received before.” Despite his dry tone Will continued the attempt at polite decency they all seemed to be making and stepped aside, inviting them in.
Will considered offering something to drink: tea or something stronger, though the latter was largely wishful thinking as he felt it would probably help him through the inevitable confrontation. He dismissed the idea sharply when it became clear that none of them were very comfortable in the situation, standing stiffly in the continuing quiet of the evening rather than taking the opportunity to sit down.
“What was it you wanted to talk about?” Will inquired as a way to start the conversation, because there was no doubt as to what the discussion would be about.
“Why did you choose my son?” Carole asked.
Will took a couple of breaths before speaking, “What exactly do you want me to say?”
“Just help me to understand,” Carole insisted, a fragile quaver in her voice.
“Your son is...” Will smiled, a slow, unhappy smile and dropped his gaze to the carpet. “He's amazing. He carries all this weight on his shoulders, faces up to things that in a fair world he would never have to, and he does it all with a smile on his face, does his best to never let it get him down.” Will's words had warmth, but underneath his chest ached viciously, “When he confessed his feelings for me I knew that I shouldn't feel the same way, that I couldn't let myself feel the same way, but honestly, I don't think I've ever cared for someone the way I did for Finn at that moment.”
“So my son, my sixteen-year-old boy, tells you he's got a crush on you and you think it's fine to take advantage of that?” The pretense began to shake as anger crept back into Carole's voice.
“I've dealt with crushes before but this wasn't a crush. This was something more than that.”
Finn's sudden confession back in the kitchen ran through her mind but Carole refused to accept it, “He's young, he's confused... he isn't even gay for fuck's sake!”
“All evidence to the contrary,” Will mumbled irritably.
Burt, who had been looming silently, bristled at the comment and came to Carole's aid, “A few months back he was freaking out at Kurt, calling his stuff 'faggy'. That sound like something a gay kid would do?”
“It sounds like a confused young man, looking to the only other gay person he knows and worrying that if he gives into his feelings he'll become exactly like that person,” Will answered calmly.
“Don't!” Carole hissed suddenly, stepping forward and poking Will in chest as she spoke, like she'd done at the police station, “Don't act like you know my son better than me. I'm his mother and you, you're just some... pervert.”
The insult stung and the spot on his chest was getting sore from her prodding, “When was the last time you talked to Finn?” He asked. “Do you do it often or do you wait for everything to come crashing down around him so you can swoop in and pick up the pieces?”
“I, I do my best,” Carole muttered uncertainly. Will felt it was a small victory that he'd blindsided her enough to make her stop poking him.
“What do you do with him?” Burt inquired, unimpressed. “A lot more than just talking I'd bet.”
Will felt his heart slam into his ribcage in panic, until he reminded himself of the revelation in the police station earlier: Finn was willing to lie for him. “Kids stuff mostly; like you said, he's young. Kissing, making out... he isn't really ready for more than that.”
“And if you hadn't been caught, if you'd had more time?” Burt's eyebrow rose slowly, his tone was soft like the padding footsteps of an approaching panther.
Will gulped but accepted that admitting to that was the closest he could get to the truth without risking a prison sentence, “Yes, I'd have... I would've had sex with him.”
Will figured he must have blacked out for an instant because before he could register it, he'd stumbled back several feet, his jaw was aflame with screaming nerve endings and Burt was rubbing the knuckles of his right hand to soothe them.
Lifting a hand to trace across his mouth and examining the drops of blood at his fingertips thoughtfully Will looked up, his eyes openly displaying his feelings, “I deserved that.”
“And a helluva lot more besides,” Burt added firmly.
Will felt with certainty that if they had known the truth Carole and Burt would be spending that moment panicking and making hasty plans on where to hide his body.
When it seemed like neither of them was going to ask him anything more, Will folded his arms across his chest defensively and looked at them both, “Is there anything else you wanted to ask me?” When neither answered he accepted that as a 'no', “Then, I just want to say that even if you disapprove; I love Finn and Finn loves-”
“No,” Carole interrupted, not with an angry roar but instead a heated whisper. “No, he doesn't love you. You're going to make sure he knows that.”
“What do...” Will stumbled to a stop. For all her meekness a moment before Carole was glaring at him unwaveringly, her spine as strong as steel.
“Make sure he knows that you and he are never going to be together, then leave him and never dare to come back. I don't want Finn to ever catch even a glimpse of your shadow. I want him to forget that you exist and live a long and happy life.”
Will felt as if he'd been impaled by something jagged, but it was Burt's honest assessment that really got through to him, “If you really cared about him you'd give him the chance to lead a normal life. You owe him that much.”
“I can do that,” Will promised dejectedly.
Carole and Burt left somewhat awkwardly but Will didn't pay them much attention. As he sank back down onto the couch the TV was airing the logo for a funeral firm, Will raised his bottle in salute to the image that so well suited his mood.
*
Finn found Will in his office the following morning.
“What happened to you?” Finn asked worriedly as he caught sight of Will's puffy split lip.
“I, uh, walked into a door,” Will offered lamely.
“What happened?” Finn repeated, not at all fooled by the lie.
“Your parents really care about you,” Will answered vaguely.
“My parents?” Finn's features settled into a look of comprehension as he recalled his Mom's impromptu date with Burt the night before. “Please, tell me they didn't,” He begged, horrified.
“They care about you, that's not a bad thing,” Will responded reassuringly.
“Oh, I know how much they care,” Finn replied darkly. “They care enough to keep me safe from the big bad rapist, but not enough to listen when I tell them that I love you.”
Will placed a comforting hand on Finn's shoulder, “Give them time, they'll come round. It's just a shock right now.”
“Yeah.” Finn breathed the tension out and smiled a little, “At least I've still got you.”
“Yeah,” Will replied, though he lacked the same conviction.
“What?” Finn snapped the question, fearful of what Will's hesitance meant. When he caught sight of a half-packed box and took in his surroundings for the first time, he realized what had happened.
“They can't fire you,” Finn insisted, as if sheer willpower alone could make it true.
“They can't not fire me,” Will corrected glumly. “I got off free on the statutory charge but they had enough evidence to make sure I can never work in a school again.”
“This... this is stupid,” Finn felt himself trembling with rage. “We'll start a petition. Everyone in Glee will sign; how many signatures do you think we'll need?”
“It's legal Finn, we can't fight this.” Will took hold of Finn's arms, squeezing gently.
“We can't just do nothing,” Finn insisted, sinking into the embrace and resting his chin on Will's shoulder.
“You won't be doing nothing,” Will tried to calm him. “You'll have classes and football and Glee, if someone takes over from me. You'll graduate and go to college and have a life.”
“And what about you?” Finn pulled away to look Will in the eye.
“I'll... find something,” Will answered vaguely.
“Why are you talking like we're never going to see each other again?”
Will sighed and turned away, beginning to empty the top drawer of his desk into the box, “Because perhaps that would be for the best.”
“The best?” Finn spluttered. “No, no... there's that cafe on 22nd street that has 'The Best Apple Pie in Ohio', I've tasted that pie Will. This isn't apple pie... this, this is bullshit!”
“You've got to understand-”
“No, you've got to understand,” Finn interrupted. “I love you, okay. I don't care what the police or my mom or anybody thinks about that. I love you and if you try to disappear I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth.”
The passion in Finn's words was magnetic and Will pulled his young lover into a deep kiss, it was harsh with anger and desperation at first but swiftly softened into something more reminiscent of the kisses they'd shared in the past.
When they pulled apart they stayed wrapped in each others' arms, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
“I love you too,” Will whispered, placing his palm to Finn's cheek and rubbing a thumb over his glistening lower lip.
“When will I see you again?”
“I don't know.”
“But I will see you again, right?” Finn pressed urgently.
Will considered the honest answer to the question alongside the promise he had made to Carole, he knew he shouldn't sow the seeds of false hope and risk hurting Finn but when had he ever done what he should when it came to Finn?
“You said you'd hunt me to the ends of the Earth, I promise I won't run that far.” Will smiled and pulled Finn close again. The couple let their embrace linger and Finn clung to Will, trying his hardest to remember all the things he loved so much about being in Will's arms, from the feel of his fingers stroking the soft hairs at the nape of Finn's neck to the subtle smell of fabric softener Finn could always smell on his sweater-vest.
He insisted on carrying Will's box to his car. It didn't seem possible that everything that tied Will Schuester to the school could fit into that one small box, that his presence could be scrubbed clean so easily.
“Well hey there buddy, I was just getting the Cheerios ready for our morning practice and I guess I plain forgot you'd be clearing out today.” The mock-cheerful tone of a gloating Sue Sylvester greeted them as they stepped out into the hall; a small selection of the cheerleading squad were lingering behind her.
“Funny that you'd forget something you learned only yesterday. Senile dementia kicking in?” Will returned fire with false-concern. Finn felt a small lick of pride that his lover was going down fighting, Sue was going to be a lot worse with no-one around to stand up to her ego.
“Well I don't know William, let me see if I have my facts straight. You are fired, shamed, and rightfully so, for having sex with Teen Hulk here.” She turned her attention temporarily to Finn before turning back to Will and adopting a holier-than-thou tone, “Honestly, as if the indiscriminate sex with various women wasn't enough, you turn your devious sights on your students. Despicable!”
Turning away Sue sauntered off down the corridor, clearly pleased with the outcome of their exchange. The Cheerios skipped off after their coach, skirts and lips flapping in a frenzy as they discussed the revelation; by the end of the day the entire school would know and at least three wild variations to the story would have spawned. Finn felt his heart, only recently buoyed up by Will, sink back down into his sneakers.
“Oh and William...” Sue called over her shoulder, “Your hair is still awful.”
“Are you okay?” Finn asked tentatively.
“She is a monster,” Will answered calmly. He sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Finn set the box down and pulled Will into his arms again, “Finn, don't. Someone'll see.”
“The whole school is going to know by the end of today and right now you need a hug,” Finn reasoned.
Will settled his head on Finn's shoulder, “Life's gonna suck until you graduate. You know that, right?”
“Life's gonna suck for you too, it's not fair that I should get away free.” Finn ran his fingers through Will's curls comfortingly.
“I'm sorry.”
“It's not your fault,” Finn reminded.
Will broke the embrace hesitantly and picked the box with his belongings in it up, “If I don't leave now, I never will.”
“So don't,” Finn pleaded.
“I have to.” Will turned and started walking away.
“I love you,” Finn called after him.
Will stopped still and turned back, gray-green eyes shining with tears, but a playful smile graced his face as he answered, “Love you more.”
Finn returned the smile somewhat shakily and stayed where he was, his heart heavy as he watched Will Schuester walk away until he turned a corner and was gone.