Locked, Locket, Locker (6/6)
“Hey, Mr Schue,” Finn said, falling into step beside his teacher as they walked across the parking lot before school.
“Hi, Finn,” Mr Schue replied. “How are you today?”
“Good,” Finn replied, shifting his bag a little higher on his shoulder. “Do you want me to carry some of that stuff for you?”
Mr Schue carefully halved the load of papers and books he was carrying, and handed them to Finn. “Thanks. You’re not going to hold that stuff hostage unless I give you an extension on something, are you?”
“No, no,” Finn replied, stumbling a little as he spotted Liam’s sense of humour in his teacher's words. “I just wanted to catch up and stuff.”
Mr Schue glanced at Finn. “Everything okay?”
“With me? Yeah, it’s cool. Everyone’s been really cool lately.” Finn paused, holding the door to the main building open for Mr Schue and following him inside. “No, I was wondering about you.” Mr Schue frowned, and Finn pushed on. “I mean, I know things have been pretty crappy for you lately too. And, I mean, you’ve always been there for me. I was kind of hoping I could return the favour somehow?”
Mr Schue gave Finn a tight smile. “That’s a very kind offer, Finn. But, while a teacher’s job is to help their students, oversharing with students in return is considered a bit of a no-no.”
Finn frowned. “Well, that blows,” he said, and Mr Schue’s mouth stretched into a real smile for a moment.
“Life is full of things that blow,” he said in agreement, pulling out the keys to his office and unlocking the door. Finn followed him inside.
“Most teachers don’t care about students and stuff as much as you,” Finn said, holding his arms out so Mr Schue could take books and papers and set them in their proper places on his desk. “I mean, you tell most people that things suck and they act all ‘So? Where’s your geometry homework?’ Or else they just give you some crappy vague advice that they got out of a fortune cookie.”
Mr Schue looked up at Finn with a smile that he was trying to hide. “I hope you’re not sullying the reputation of fortune cookies.”
“Not to your face,” Finn replied. “If you’re a big fan of them, I could maybe try giving you some?”
Mr Schue didn’t hide his smile now. “Oh could you now?”
“Sure,” Finn replied. “But I’d have to know something about your problem first. Just the jist of it.”
Mr Schue gave Finn a long, thoughtful look. Finn tried to imagine a fifteen year old Liam giving him the same look, and it was surprisingly easy. He’d combed through the yearbooks, he had Liam’s big nose and stupid hair memorised. Come on, Finn thought. Give me a chance to help you out, Liam.
“I guess I’m having trouble,” Mr Schue said slowly, “with coming to terms that someone isn’t who I thought they were.” The look he gave Finn was intense, almost piercing. “Someone I know is changing their role in my life, and I don’t know how to deal with that.”
Finn swallowed thickly. “Well,” he said at last. “Change is usually a good thing. Change sucks, and it hurts. But it’s good in the end.”
“Well,” Mr Schue said, tearing his gaze away and picking through the papers on his desk. “You’re right, things do come to an end.” After a moment he looked up again. “Thanks, Finn.”
Finn gave Mr Schue an uncertain smile, and recognised the dismissal. “Sure,” he said. “Anytime. I should go, uh, get my books. And stuff.”
“Wait, Finn, did you get the note about your lockers?”
Finn paused in the doorway. “What note?”
“They’re getting replaced, over the weekend.”
Finn looked at Mr Schue in shock. “What?”
“Yeah, apparently there have been a lot of complaints, and the school is trying to upgrade things. So everything you want to keep needs to be cleared out by the end of the week.”
“Wait, when was this decided?”
Mr Schue gave Finn and odd look. “A note went out over a month ago. Your homeroom teacher should have given it to you.”
Realisation slowly dawned. “And I would have shoved it...”
“... right in your locker,” Mr Schue finished for him.
Finn slammed the flat of his palm against the doorframe. “Shit,” he said. “I, uh, I gotta go look into that,” he said, and hurried off.
*
Finn spent the day worrying. He spoke to Liam through the lockers, and if the lockers were replaced... Finn didn’t know exactly how their little mailbox system worked (how most things worked) but he was pretty sure that would mean the end. He stood in front of his locker when the bell rang for class, feeling torn up inside and with no idea what to do. Eventually he wrenched his locker open, and saw a note stuck to the inside of the door.
I’m auditioning for Glee, it read.
And all Finn could think in response was why now? Why did everything have to break apart right now?
*
Puck cornered Finn in the halls, and Finn had to fight to keep his fists from balling up. They’d been ignoring each other. Or, at least, Finn had been ignoring Puck and Puck had been respecting that. Why did he have to go and rock the boat?
“Dude,” Puck said. “We need to talk.”
“We really don’t,” Finn replied. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Look, chill for a second, okay?” And Finn had to fight not to lash out because, really? Puck went and did something like that, went and fucked with everything in Finn’s life, quite literally, and lied to him about it, and just... just went and broke everything, and what? Finn was meant to be all calm and ‘yeah, whatever’ about it?
“Look, I know you’re still pissed at me. And, fine, okay? But look, I am really into Quinn. And you’re into Berry, so what’s the big deal, you know? You get to walk away from the whole daddy issue. I mean, you should be thanking me.”
Finn shoved Puck against the nearest locker, and shoved his forearm across Puck’s throat.
“Fuck man, just calm the fuck down already,” Puck yelled. “I’m your best friend.”
Finn stared at him for a long moment. “No,” he said at last. “You’re not. You’re your own best friend.” He shoved away from Puck, and headed down the hall.
“Screw you, Hudson,” Puck yelled after him. “You’re going to have to get over it eventually!”
“Go fuck yourself,” Finn yelled back. “Try that instead of fucking other people’s girlfriends.”
Principal Figgins stepped into Finn’s line of sight. “Mr Hudson, that’s a detention for using crude language in the halls.”
Finn bit back the urge to tell Figgins to go fuck himself, and took the slip with a sullen expression. He was torn between wishing the day was over already, and hoarding however many hours he had left before his locker was taken away.
*
“Miss Stevens,” Finn said, sticking his head into his homeroom teacher’s office. “Can I talk to you? About the lockers?”
“Lockers?”
“Yeah. You gave me a note or something, a while back, about the lockers getting replaced with new ones?”
Miss Stevens tapped a finger against her bottom lip. Finn usually liked her as a teacher, because she tended to forget things like who had done their detentions and who hadn’t. But for once that trait had Finn fidgeting and wishing she would hurry up and remember. “Oh, right, I remember. You miss so many homegroups because of Glee, so I just gave the note to Mr Schuester. He did give it to you, right?”
Finn stared at her, almost hearing things click together in his head. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “He let me know.” And then he turned abruptly, and stormed out.
*
Finn didn’t get a chance to do some enraged storming down the hallways until lunchtime, what with classes and teachers expecting him to go to them. High school could be so lame sometimes. He was so busy being pissed and confused that he almost didn’t notice Kurt falling into step beside him.
“So, did your mom have a good time last night?”
Finn faltered, and rounded on Kurt. “If this is a ‘your momma’ joke, Kurt, now is really not the time.”
“No, silly,” Kurt reached out a pushed Finn’s shoulder playfully. “Did she have fun on her date?”
Finn gawped at Kurt. “... Date?”
“Sure,” Kurt replied, looping his arm through Finn’s and pulling him into a walk. “Your mom, my dad. I mean, they’re both older people, their partners dead. And I mean, their boys already like each other, right? It’s a perfect match.”
Finn was a little stunned. “My mom went on a date? She hasn’t done that for...”
“Years?” Kurt guessed. “I know, my dad hasn’t dated at all since my mom died. And while there’s a part of me was worried that I wouldn’t be ready for it, your mom is just wonderful.”
“You know my mom?”
“Sure. We all met at parent-teacher night.” Kurt jiggled Finn’s arm. “Well? Aren’t you happy? Our parents deserve to have someone around to look after them.”
Finn felt his eyebrows fold into the middle of his forehead. “But that’s what I did.”
Kurt laughed. “Well, now that our parents are looking after each other, that just means that the two of us will have a whole lot more free time.” Kurt beamed up at Finn. “We should hang out more, you know? Give them some space.”
Finn stared straight ahead, and frowned. “Kurt, I ah. I was kind of on the way to see somebody...”
Kurt’s smile froze. “Not a problem,” he said at last, giving Finn’s arm one last squeeze before stepping away. “We’ve got plenty of time to catch up.”
“Sure,” Finn said. “I’ll catch you later.”
He peeled away from Kurt, and shook his head as he started striding towards Mr Schuester’s office. He hadn’t even noticed his mom had gone out. And if what Kurt said was true, that their parents were really so close? Finn frowned. Why did he have to find out from Kurt? Why did all of these big things happen behind his back?
*
Finn had to wait outside Mr Schue’s office while he helped a sophomore with something to do with verbs, which only annoyed Finn more. You had to learn so much stupid grammar at high school. And really, when was he ever going to use a verb in real life? It was such bullshit. Eventually the student scurried past, and Finn stepped into the office, his jaw shifting.
“You,” he said. “You were meant to give me the note about my locker. Why didn’t you?”
Mr Schue looked up at Finn from where he was sitting at his desk, and then slowly leaned back in his seat, lacing his hands together across his stomach. He gave Finn a long look, like he was figuring out what to say. Eventually he said, “I didn’t want you to have enough time to stop it.”
Finn felt like all of the air had been knocked out of him. “Why?”
Mr Schue looked down at his hands. “Because, as much fun as I am sure you were having with your pen pal, sometimes things just have to end.”
“It is you, isn’t it? You’re Liam?”
Mr Schue shrugged one shoulder without looking up from his hands. “I was,” he admitted. “A very, very long time ago.”
“Then why? Why would you go and take this away from me? From yourself?”
Mr Schue finally looked up. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe whatever is going on might be dangerous? That someone might get hurt? Bending space and time in a high school locker... that’s just not meant to happen.”
“But that stuffs just physics. Who cares about physics? I mean Liam - you, you helped me through so much these past weeks. And I think I’m helping you, maybe. Right?” Finn looked at Mr Schue with pleading eyes.
“Finn, it was going to have to end sometime. Just... let it end quietly, and not badly.”
“Why?” Finn asked, angry again. “Why the hell should I just let my best friend get taken away like that? What, I should just let something like that happen?”
“It’s better than letting someone-” Mr Schue cut himself off, and made a visible effort to calm down. “Look, Finn, you can’t live in the past like this. You have problems here and now, and you need to deal with them instead of focussing on some kid who was going through the usual teenage angst nearly twenty years ago. And you know what? After you stopped writing, I got along just fine.”
Finn slumped against the glass wall of Mr Schue’s office, the fight gone out of him. Well, if not even Liam wanted him around...
“When did you figure it out?” he finally asked. “That I was the one writing to you?”
Mr Schue sighed. “It was just a matter of putting things together. What was happening to which student around the right time. And having samples of your handwriting every time you handed in homework helped. I have to say, neither of us was very original with our secret identities.”
Finn turned that over in his mind. “How did you know that I was... here?”
Mr Schue’s mouth twitched, like he was trying to frown and smile at the same time. “You always write the date on your handouts.”
“Huh? Yeah. Quinn got me to start doing that, because I always get them mixed up.”
“Getting a food pyramid dated 2010 was a bit of a tip off.”
“Oh,” Finn said. “Right.”
“Finn,” Mr Schue said, before pausing. “You’re going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. You don’t have to feel bad about this.”
Finn frowned, and looked away. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, rubbing one elbow absently. “It’s over now, right?” There was a silence where there should have been a reply, and when Finn looked up Mr Schue had his mouth pressed into a straight line, playing with an opened letter that was sitting on his desk, like he was trying to figure something out inside himself.
“Not yet,” he said at last. Finn held his breath. “There’s one more letter.”
*
I want to thank you for what you’ve been to me over the past few weeks. You’ve been more than a friend. I think that you’re the biggest influence that I’ve ever had in my life. You don’t know how grateful I am that I got to know you, to know who you are.
Maybe you’ll be angry at me when you realise what this letter is saying, but I hope you’re not. Because all of those times that I said you would go on and do wonderful things, I meant it. You will grow up and you’ll do stuff that will amaze you and make you proud of yourself. Bad things will happen, because bad things happen to everyone, but you’ll get through them and you’ll be a good person. And the bad things that happen, they won’t be your fault. Things happen because people are dumb, and people are afraid, and because they’re people. But don’t let yourself become where you grow up, or what people do to you, or what you sacrificed. You are better than all of that.
You asked me once if I could see into your future. I don’t know how to answer that, and you’ll figure it out anyway. I’ve told you things that I’ve never told anyone else, you have a part of me that no one else ever will. And maybe I have a part of you. You will have a great life, and if you ever doubt that you can come back and read this letter because everything in it is the truth.
I love you and I’m never going to forget you.
*
Finn went to see Will on Friday afternoon, after the final bell had rung, and after a Thursday evening of stalking around the house and throwing himself on his bed dramatically. His mom had called Kurt over to sort him out, which had turned into Finn assuring everyone that no, really, he was fine with their parents dating - this was a whole other thing that he was pissed about, and then Kurt talking at him for hours about his life and his dad and how great things were going to work out, and offering to sleep over. School was almost a blessing.
Finn wondered how he was ever going to manage to call his teacher ‘Mr Schuester’ again. In some ways, he had known the man for nearly twenty years. This was someone who, for a few weeks, had been his best friend. More than a friend. Now that was over, and Finn didn’t know how he was going to let it end.
He knocked on the door frame of the Spanish office, coming out of his thoughts and into the real world with a thump. There were post-it notes on the drawers of Will’s filing cabinet, and boxes lined up along his desk. Most had books in them, and Finn could see the knick knacks that used to sit on Will’s desk scattered on top. The pin board beside his desk, which had always been crowded with bits of paper, was bare, as was Will’s desk except for what looked like a small bone, and an old and battered magnet, in the shape of a gold star.
Finn swallowed thickly. “Did you get my note?” he asked. “I mean, the one that went back..?”
Will looked up from the papers in his hands. “Yes,” he said at last. The distance in him that Finn had become so familiar with over the past months seemed to soften a little. “It was a good one.” And there was so much in Will’s face as they looked at each other, some sadness, some relief, maybe still some of that look of betrayal that Finn was still trying to untangle. Finn tore his eyes away, and looked around the room.
“So, uh, are you redecorating?”
“No,” Will replied, moving to pull more papers out of his filing cabinet. “Though I imagine that will happen soon enough.” He paused, as if collecting himself, and Finn caught up with the situation at just the wrong moment.
“You’re leaving,” he said.
“Yes. I applied for other teaching jobs when... around sectionals. And I was offered a slightly better job, so.”
“You’re leaving,” Finn said again. “After everything?”
Will looked up at him, and it killed Finn because now he knew exactly what kind of brown-green those eyes, Liam’s eyes, were. “When I was younger,” he said slowly, “I was given some very good advice. And it was that I should never let myself get defined by where I lived, or who I- or the people in my life.”
Finn felt something in him starting to break. “This isn’t what I meant,” he said at last.
“I chose to come back to Lima when I became a teacher because it was familiar, and safe, and there was at least one mystery that I never managed to solve. And now I’ve solved it. And now safe and familiar doesn’t feel the same. It doesn’t feel right.” Will frowned, and looked away, trying to keep himself busy. Finn felt the distance between them coming back, and though he wanted to say something all of his words had been used up. He opened his mouth, and nothing came out.
“In some ways, I’m grateful to you,” Will told him. “You were a comfort in a time when I needed it.” Will carefully sorted papers into different piles on his desk before looking up, level. “But I’m not fifteen anymore,” he said steadily. And Finn could hear the rest of that sentence echoing around in his head, before it fell past Will’s lips. “And you’re not what I need. Just,” Will looked down at the boxes on his desk, not meeting Finn’s eye. “Just go home. Go be with your family. Please.”
“So, what, that’s it? After everything that’s happened, that we’ve been through. I’m never going to see you again?”
Will didn’t look up. “I don’t think so. Wait, Finn, please.”
But Finn was gone. He ran out into the hall, his feet thudding on the dirty linoleum. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair, and it didn’t make sense, and fuck everything. Why did everyone else get to make decisions? Well, not this time.
Finn ran to his locker, and tore the door open, shoving his arm inside and pulling the contents out, sweeping it onto the floor. He could hear the sound of shoes on the floor down the hall, coming closer. He lifted a foot up and planted it on the edge of his locker, and scrambled with his fingers to find some kind of a hold inside. He pulled his shoulders in, and tucked his head down, and threw his body into the small dark space.
He expected to smack his head on the back of his locker, to get stuck and fall out and look like his usual kind of foolish. But instead he fell in, down and down with the sound of a yell and the metallic clang of his locker slamming shut echoing behind him.
And everything went black.
*
The End.
Back to Masterpost