If Bullfrogs Had Wings 16/?
Title: If Bullfrogs Had Wings
Pairing: Finn/Kurt
Rating: R
A/N: This chapter is a little short, because it was originally part of chapter 15. But it was way too long, and I felt like the story flowed better split like this. Wish me luck, as I'm taking my coydog to be evaluated by a veterinary behaviorist to see what my options for him. Hopefully we can find a way to make him at least semi-normal.
Evil is easy, and has infinite forms
Blaise Pascal
It was like he had sucked the air out of the room with just a few words. I mean, yeah, I had know that it would happen eventually, and that having the man behind bars meant that not only Finn was safe, but so was every body else, but I guess I hadn’t really believed it. “How…who…what’s his name?” Why did I care what his name was?
Finn whimpered softly, the sound so tiny and forlorn that it tore a hole in my heart. I thought that this might be the moment where he finally broke, and gave up the name of the man who had taken him from Lima, but he didn’t. Carole shook her head. “They didn’t tell us. A deputy is going to come by and bring a line up to see if Finn can recognize him. He didn’t want to give us a name, or have us turn on the TV, because we might see something that skews the results.”
“When…when is he coming?” I could barely even think the words; much less force them past my suddenly thick tongue and numb lips.
Maybe that’s what it feels like when Finn tries to talk. Just saying.
“Soon. He should be here before dinner. Finn, do you want to help me or would you rather stay in here with Kurt?”
Finn must not have had a chance to tell her that he and I were fighting. He could have ratted me right then, but he just pressed closer to her. “It’s alright, Sweetie, I’m not going to leave you.” She stood and he rose with her. One hand was fisted into her sweatshirt, and I could suddenly see him at age three or four, still small enough to want to hold hands. “Kurt, would you like to help as well?”
“No, thank you, Carole, I’ll just stay here with Dad. Too many cooks spoil the broth and all that.” I didn’t want to tell her the truth, which was that I didn’t trust my legs not to crumple beneath me if I tried to take a step.
She looked at me for a long time, like she knew that I was lying, but Finn and I were pulling her in different directions, and I couldn’t blame her for choosing him right now. So I gave her that little smile that was really just a twitch of one side of my mouth. “I need to talk to Dad, anyway.”
Once she was gone, Finn trailing after her like a lost puppy, Dad gave me a look that suggested he wished he was anywhere but here, but gamely held out one arm. My knees did try to give way on the first step, but I wobbled my way over to perch on the arm of his armchair. He paused for a minute, then pulled me into his lap. I burrowed against him, squeezing as tightly as I could. “I’m scared.”
“Me too, Kid.” He stroked one hand down my back. “This has all spiraled out of control, and I have no idea how to fix it for everyone. Actually, I don’t know how to fix it for anyone. I thought that his guy getting arrested would change things for the better, but what if it doesn’t?”
“Do you regret it?” I barely recognized my own voice. “Meeting Carole, and having them move in, I mean. If we hadn’t done that, Finn would be fine now.” Wait, did I want him to say he regretted it or not? I was too confused to be sure.
“No. I love Carole, and I love Finn, despite the fact that he wishes I would disappear, and I want the four of us to be a family, whatever that means. What happened, it wasn’t my fault, or your fault, and it had nothing to do with Finn and Carole moving in with us. Maybe it put Finn in harms way that night, but maybe it kept him out of harms way on another night. I might not know about black holes and string theory and all that shit that you do, but I do know fate. For whatever reason, it was Finn’s fate to have this happen, and now we need to deal as best as possible.”
“He hates me right now.” I whispered the words, but my head was on his chest and he could hear them any way.
“Finn does? Why?” He patted my shoulder. “He liked you well enough to let you cut his hair. It looks real nice, by the way. You have a talent.”
I snorted, just so I wouldn’t start crying. “He liked me while I was doing that, until I had to open my big mouth. Now he hates me.”
You are being such a drama king. Finn does not hate you. Honestly, I don’t really think Finn knows how to hate anyone. My guess would be, though, that with everything else going on right now, he’s forgotten you entirely.
Dad slid a hand under my chin and pulled my face up so we could look at each other. “What did you say that upset him?”
“I…” I stopped there, because how could I tell him why I had said what I said without telling him what had happened last night, and what had happened Before Finn went away, and even before Dad and Carole started dating.
Use a very, very edited version. Don’t tell him anything about the kiss, or what Finn told you, or anything else. Think for a second, and you can do this.
“I told him that I thought we were spending too much time together, and that it was hard for me. I just thought that maybe it wasn’t healthy, that we were starting to get codependent and all that. I love him, I really do, but it’s so hard sometimes to try and figure out what he wants and needs and why he won’t just talk and make it easier on all of us. But he got all pissed of and stormed upstairs and now he won’t even look at me.”
The arm across my back tightened reassuringly. “Kurt, Finn doesn’t hate you. You probably hurt his feelings a little, but that’s alright. If you feel like this is too much, you need to tell him that, because there’s no point in making you as sick as he is. I know that you only want to help out, and believe me, you have, but you need to have a life of your own, too. Finn knows that. Besides, he specifically told us to go get you a minute ago, so he must not be too upset.”
“I want to make it better it for him, but I can’t.” Now the traitorous tears had made it to my eyes, but I wasn’t about to let them fall.
“None of us can fix Finn, Kurt. You could be Superman and you still wouldn’t be able to fix Finn. All you can do is love him and hope that he finds the strength to fix himself.”
Kurt loves Finn a lot more then you know.
I wasn’t foolish enough to say that. Actually, I didn’t want to say anything at all. I just wanted to let Dad hold me in a way that he hadn’t done for a long time, and pretend that I was still small enough for him to fix all of my problems.
From my position, I could hear Carole talking to Finn, telling him finish with the salad and complimenting him on his new haircut and reminding him that he needed to thank me for making him look so nice. He hadn’t, but he probably would have if I hadn’t gone ahead and pissed him off.
The doorbell rang, making both Dad and I jump. This was it. A police officer was going to come into the house and ask all the questions over again, because Finn hadn’t been able to answer them the first time, and he wasn’t going to answer them this time either, but they would just keep trying, pushing him from all angles until they finally gave up and left, and Finn would be worse then he had been before. Only this time there would be pictures, and what if Finn couldn’t pick the right one? Did that mean they had arrested the wrong guy, or that Finn just couldn’t remember what had happened? What if the unreliable memory of a traumatized teenager got the guy off?
What if you turn into a giant dish of tapioca pudding? What if Finn can identify him? What if losing the stress of wondering if that man is going to come back is what it takes for him to talk again? What if, what if, what if? Now stop underestimating Finn. He survived didn’t he?
Dad nudged me to my feet, so he could get up and answer the door. I peeked around him, pleased to see that it was Officer Logan, and not one of the older detectives. Finn seemed to like him better, though everything was a guessing game with Finn. “Hello Mr. Hummel, Kurt.” I noticed that he was carrying a brown leather bag, one that was probably filled with pictures.
“Burt is fine. Finn is in the kitchen with his mother.”
“Great.” He waited patiently for us to lead him in, even though every cop in Lima knows our house as well as they do their own by now. “Hello again, Finn.”
Finn reminded me of a skittish colt, all tense body and rolling eyes. He took a few rapid gulps of the open soda in front of him and waved weakly. “Did your Mom tell you what’s going on?”
A slow nod. “Great. Now I have to get some legal stuff out of the way before we get down to business, alright?”
He took something out of the bag. “Because we might use this if the case comes to trial, we want to have clear evidence of what happened. This is just a video camera to show a potential jury exactly which person you pointed out, ok? This also covers my ass so the defense can’t claim that I coerced you or told you which one to pick. Are you with me so far?”
Finn’s nod was a little stronger this time, and I appreciated the effort Officer Logan was putting forth to try and put Finn at ease. “I’m going to turn it on right now.” He clicked a switch and the little red light came on. “Now, I want to be sure that you understand that you are not in trouble, Finn, and you are not being charged with a crime. Because you aren’t being charged with anything, you don’t have to talk to me. You can tell me to stop at any time, and I will. Also, because you are less then 18, your Mom has to stay with you. If you don’t want her to do that, we can appoint something called a guardian ad litem, which is an adult who basically comes in and makes sure that I’m not bullying you and that I’m being fair. You’ve indicated in the past that you would rather your mother be with you. Do you still feel that way?”
Now his nod was very distinct. “Ok. I have 36 pictures for you to look at. The pictures are all of different men. I’m going to lay them down nine at a time, and I want you to look at them and see if you see the person who took you. If you aren’t sure, you can tell me that, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to pick someone if you don’t see the right person, ok?”
Finn was starting to look a little pale, but he nodded bravely. “Good. Do you have any questions before we start?” Since Finn gave no indication that he did, the officer laid down the first nine pictures. I peeked at them, noticing that they were all of stocky men in their fifties, bald, and wearing glasses. Every one of them looked perfectly normal, the sort of guy that I would feel comfortable asking for directions if I was lost. Finn looked at all nine and shook his head. “No? What about these?”
The next nine pictures came down, and Finn again shook his head. He had dismissed each one almost immediately, which gave me hope that he remembered exactly what he was supposed to be looking for. Of course, if I had been through what he had, my kidnappers face would be burned into my mind as well.
He barely had the third set down before Finn pointed at a picture in the second row. He tapped it over and over again, not hesitating at all. Officer Logan picked it up, making sure to show it to the still running camera. “This is the man? Finn, are you 100% sure?”
Abruptly Finn’s complexion went from white to green and I backed up as he leaned over and threw up all over the floor. Carole was on him in a second. “It’s alright, baby, it’s alright.” She shot the death glare that mothers are so very good at at Officer Logan. “I think he’s sure. Burt, be useful and go get a towel or something!”
We all knew that her rage wasn’t really directed at Dad, or anyone else in the room. I followed him upstairs, pausing at the linen closet to pull out a couple of washcloths.
I could hear Carole and Officer Logan talking in the kitchen when I returned, running the cloths under the cold water tap and offering one to Finn so he could wipe his face. Considering the amount of throwing up Finn had done over the past two days, he had to be feeling terrible. He made a sign at me, the gestured to the policeman. “He says that he’s sorry.”
“No problem, Finn. Getting sick like that happens more then you would think it does, and a lot of the time its guys older and bigger then you. It’s just stress.” Finn offered him a weak smile.
“Did he pick the right guy? The one you arrested, I mean.” I took the washcloth back, just as Dad came down and tossed a towel over the mess on the floor.
Officer Logan nodded. “Yes, Finn chose the man we arrested. Is there anything else you would like to add, Finn? A name, or any other description?”
I could have told him not to bother. Finn wasn’t even looking at the pictures now. Instead he was focused on the kitchen tile. Luckily, the policeman got it, too. “Finn, you’ve been a great help tonight. If you do think of something else that you might want to tell us, you know how to get in contact with us. I need to get this back to the station, so we can coordinate with the New Mexico police.”
Carole nodded. “Finn, why don’t you go downstairs and rest for a little bit?”
No. With you. Dinner?
Only Finn could be interested in food less then 5 minutes after throwing up. But having an appetite was good, right? It meant he wasn’t going to freak out and stop eating like he had last time.
Maybe Carole was having the same thoughts, because she nodded. “Why don’t you go lay down on the couch? Dinner should be done in 10 minutes or so, and I’ll bring you a plate.”
He didn’t look convinced, so Dad tried. “I have some games TiVo’d, if you want to watch them. You know how to get them, right?”
Finn looked at Dad for a long time, their eyes locked. I had no idea what was being said between them, but I did sense that it was something important. Finally Finn rose on unsteady legs and wandered out of the room. We all released a breath.
I didn’t want to be the one to break the uncomfortable silence that had descended on us all, but I couldn’t help it. I tried to strive for an adult countenance in everything I did, but my voice came out completely childlike. “That’s good, right? That Finn recognized the guy right away, and they arrested the right person. It means that things will get back to normal soon?” I recognized the stupidity of what I was saying, even as the words were still leaving my mouth.
Dear Santa, for Christmas this year, I want a rocket and a sled and….yeah, if you believe that this will make things better, you’re a moron. This is a step forward, yes, but I wouldn’t guarantee that Finn sees it that way. Actually, I would think that he sees this as his life getting immeasurably worse.
“It’s good that the wrong guy wasn’t arrested, yes.” Carole was choosing her words carefully. “And it’s good that we don’t have to worry about the man coming back, but it means that there’s going to be a trial. It means that Finn is going to have to get up in a courtroom, and point to that man and say ‘yes, that’s the man who killed my best friend. That’s the man who took me away from my family, and kept me for four months. That’s the man who did God knows what else to me, and that’s the man I managed to escape from.’ I can’t even imagine what that’s going to do to Finn, and to all of us.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I don’t know if any of us can do it.”
“We can.” Dad was nodding. “I know this family has been through a lot, but we made it this far, and we can make it the rest of the way.”
She smiled weakly, and reached out to squeeze his hand. “Thank you, Burt. Kurt, do you think we can do this?”
“Of course we can. There are four of us and one of him. We’ll win if for no other reason then sheer numbers. Anyway, Finn is tough, and he’s resourceful. He can do it; I’m just not 100% positive that he knows he can do it. But that’s what the family is there for, to help him out, right?” I hoped that I sounded confident and not like I was going to faint.
Something in the middle of that babble must have been right, because she slipped her arm around my shoulders. “You’re right; it is the four of us. Not just me and Finn, but you boys, too. There’s a reason that the four of us were brought together this year, and it’s so we would have each other when this all happened.”
Yeah...want to know the real reason that the four of you were brought together this year? You spell it K-U-R-T.
So what? Did it really matter how we had gotten together, or did it just matter that we had gotten together? I could put Carole and Dad together all I liked, but if they didn’t hit it off, that would have been the end of it. Or they would have broken up when Finn and I were doing our best to ruin the relationship. So I had given them a little push in the right direction, big deal. We were together now because we love each other, and that’s what counts. “Maybe we should all eat in the living room with Finn. It will be like a picnic, but better, because there won’t be dirt and bugs and things that ruin my clothes.”
Carole smiled. “That’s a lovely idea, Kurt. We can watch a movie together and spend some time as a family.”
The timer buzzed, and Dad helped her get the chicken out of the oven. I peeked in on Finn, who was lying quietly on the couch. “Hey, Cowboy.” His head came up and he smiled at me. I sat on the floor next to him. “Living room picnic?” He nodded enthusiastically.
I pressed on hand to his shoulder. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I should have listened to what you were trying to tell me, instead of pushing you away. Forgive me?”
Yes. I was getting a real smile now, the kind that showed a tiny dimple on the left cheek.
“I promise that I’ll listen to you from now on, ok? No limits, no questions, even if it takes you an entire week to tell me what you want to.”
“Kurt! Come make your plate, please.” Dad was calling me now, and I turned back to the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Finn’s eyes bored holes into my back, the same way they had done to Dad a few minutes ago, and, again, I had no idea what he wanted. It was ok, though, I was pretty sure that Finn would tell me when he was ready.
I took some of the chicken breast (skinning it first, of course), and a bowl of salad, as well as some of the steamed veggies that made Finn gag but I loved. Carole had set some raw ones aside for him and I watched as she transferred them to his plate. She had given him a small salad, light dressing and one leg of the chicken. It wasn’t much, compared to how he usually ate, but there were always seconds if his stomach was up to it.
We let Dad and Carole pick the movie, which was how we found ourselves all on the floor, the dishes forgotten as we all watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Johnny Depp, not Gene Wilder, even though no one in their right mind would find him sexy in this one. Well, at least I hoped not.
It all went really well, until the first Oompa-Loompa song came on. Finn instantly came to life, his attention fixed on the screen. By the second song, I was ready, and I pulled him to his feet. “Come on, you know this.”
This movie had come from Finn and Carole’s, and we had watched it together one morning, so I knew he had seen it at least twice. Judging by the dings and small scratches on the disc itself, more then twice was a safe bet. He rolled his eyes, but he let me guide him into position.
Of course, this was Finn Hudson we were talking about, and knowing each and every step in his brain didn’t mean that he could translate that to his oversized body. But he jumped into it with both feet and his whole heart, which was how Finn did everything. It was that second that I knew he was going to be alright. Maybe not today, or next week, or even six months from now, but, when all of this was over, he would still be Finn.
With Finn’s spastic moves and my attempts to avoid stepping on either the dinner dishes or our parents, the song was nearly over before we got in sync. Dad and Carole tried to hide it at first, but they were both laughing hysterically by the time we were done. Dad grabbed the remote. “Hang on, boys; I’m going to back it up. I want to see this dance again.”
I had obviously been possessed by some sort of brain slug, because I actually took my position again, instead of sitting down and refusing to get sweaty. Certainly I would have rather died then have anyone else see me being so silly and wild. But Finn’s good mood was contagious, and I let him drag me into even wilder moves this run through. By the time it was over, he had spun me in so many circles that I could barely stand up, though part of that might have been from me laughing so hard. Finn was laughing too, though, of course, he produced no actual noise.
Carole applauded us both enthusiastically. “That was…Burt, what was that?”
“That was quite possibly the most…interesting interpretation of a classic movie that I’ve ever seen. Kurt, I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh like that in a long time.”
Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure that I remembered the last time I had laughed like this. Finn flopped next to me, his smile making the sweat stain on my shirt worth it. Well, almost.
Despite their best efforts, neither Finn nor I would get up and dance to the two remaining songs, though he tried to get Carole to get up and do it. She had laughed and told him that she was a lousy dancer, at which point he had made a few gestures that I chose to interpret as ‘I can’t either, but I did it’. She had still refused, leading to a dramatic sigh on his part to see if he could change her mind. It hadn’t worked, and he had settled back down to finish the movie.
The entire evening had a surreal feel to it, with the police and the eating in the living room and the crazy dancing, but it had to be that way. I was willing to do anything, go to the ends of the earth, if it meant taking Finn’s mind of what had happened today.
Once the movie was over, none of us really wanted to move and risk breaking the spell that we had fallen under. Finally, Carole smiled. “This was a great night. We should do this every week. A movie, or even some sort of game night. Finn’s really good at Pictionary, aren’t you, Finn?”
He beamed at the compliment, nodding happily. Dad jumped in. “Doesn’t that sound like fun, Kurt? We haven’t played much, since most games aren’t much fun with only two people.”
There was nothing less cool then spending one night a week playing games and watching movies with your father, his girlfriend, and your new stepbrother slash crush. But I couldn’t deny a certain fascination with the idea. Dad and I hadn’t done that much as a family since Mom had died, though, so I wasn’t quite as over the idea as most teenagers might be.
“I would like that.” My voice was soft.
Carole looked to the left. “Finn? What do you think?”
He shot her a thumbs up, then signed that he was tired and wanted to go to bed. It was an easy, clear, sign, and one of the few that both Carole and Dad knew. “Do you need anything before you go?”
It was still early, but he had slept poorly the night before, and certainly had a tough enough day today. I guessed I didn’t blame him for wanting to get it over with. Finn told Carole and I goodnight, then, after a very, very long pause, signed it to Dad as well. It was one of the first times he had directly acknowledged Dad since he had come back, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
Neither was anyone else, but Finn wasn’t waiting for a response anyway. He gave Carole a kiss and went downstairs to do whatever it was he did to get ready for bed. It was only when he was gone that I remembered we had never finished his homework. I voiced that to Carole, who smiled gently and told me that it was fine, that that didn’t matter right now.
Then she gestured for me to sit down. “Listen, Baby, your father told me what the two of you talked about earlier. About you feeling like you’re expected to do too much for Finn?”
Dad! “I didn’t mean that.” Great. Now Carole was going to hate me because I was picking on her son.
“Yes, you did.” She sat next to me on the couch. “It’s ok, Kurt, I’m not upset with you. You’re 17 years old, and I know that none of this is what you would have chosen. We’ve tossed you into the caretaker role, and that isn’t fair to you”
It was hard for me to make Carole understand the problem, because it was hard for me to understand myself. “It’s not that. It’s not that don’t want to spend time with Finn, or that I don’t think he’s great the way he is, because I do. It’s just that…” I stopped there, because there was no way I could tell her that it was because I had a crush on her son. And since Dad was less then five feet away, telling her would be the same thing as telling him, and that would just ruin everything. “I don’t know what it is. I got frustrated with him, and I said something I didn’t mean. I really don’t mind hanging out with him, I promise. And it is hanging out, it’s not caretaking. Caretaking is doing stuff like feeding and diapers and stuff. Finn’s fine.”
She looked at me for a long time, and I remembered way too late that Carole could be as eerily perceptive as her son, and far more often. “Ok, as long as you aren’t feeling too overwhelmed. Maybe you and I can talk a little more about this when we have our spa day.”
And you, my friend, are big time busted.
I hated that voice with such a passion. “Sure, that would be great.” I forced a smile. “I think I’m going to head downstairs, too. I really want to work on this book I’ve been reading, and I don’t think that I’ll bother Finn with the light. When he crashes, he crashes hard.” Of course, both the melatonin and the antianxiety medication that he was still taking had a lot to do with that, but that was another thing we just didn’t talk about.
I made a quick trip through the kitchen to warm some milk. While it was slowly heating, I noticed Finn’s homework still on the counter, the pages covered in his messy scrawl. I picked it up, intending to figure out how far he had gotten and where we needed to start from in the morning, but I was distracted by the doodles on the paper. They were…honestly, they were a little disturbing.
Flipping through the pages, I counted four guns, six cars (two of which were running little stick people over), and sets of little people doing things that I didn’t want to think too hard about. There was also a pair of handcuffs, repeated over and over, several times on each page.
Maybe this is a good thing. Finn is obviously doing some heavy processing right now. My guess would be that he’s trying to tell you guys what happened to him. So, what is Finn trying to tell you?
That…ok, I could do this. I loved puzzles and I was good at interpreting things. Let’s see, I understood the guns, Puck had been shot. Finn knew that, so he had seen it happen. As much as knowing that broke my heart, I couldn’t say that it surprised me. The cars were…what?
I would say that the cars were telling me that that was how the man had taken him, but why were the cars hitting a person? Puck hadn’t been hit by a car, and Finn had been tested extensively at the hospital, revealing no healed fractures or other signs that he had been severely injured.
Maybe the guy just bumped him. If he was knocked to the ground and stunned, it would be easier to make him do whatever the guy wanted.
Belatedly, I realized again that I still didn’t know the mans name. I knew that Finn wouldn’t tell me, but Officer Logan could have.
His name is Satan. It’s Evil. It’s Legion. Does it really matter what his name is?
No, it didn’t. I would find out soon enough, anyway. The arrest would be in the paper soon enough, then there would have to be a trial. So, back to the drawings. I skipped over the people, because I wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. The handcuffs were easy; since I had seen Finn’s wrists once he got back. So Finn wasn’t telling me anything that I didn’t already know. Someone had shot Puck. Someone had taken him in a car. Someone had restrained him with handcuffs.
But the point is, he’s telling you. Yes, you know all of those things already, but you don’t know them from Finn. You know them from the police, and from the hospital records. This is Finn trying to ask you for help.
Maybe Finn wasn’t trying to tell me at all. Carole checked his work as often as I did, and he might have been trying to tell her, instead. While I was thinking about it, the microwave dinged at me.
I removed the mug, careful to not burn myself and decided that, this time, I was taking the coward’s way out. “Carole? Can you come look at this?” This way, no matter who Finn had by trying to tell (if he even cared, Finn might have just wanted someone to listen to him) and I was off the hook for trying to figure this out alone.
“What is it, Baby?” She was there in a heartbeat. “Are you hurt?”
“No, but Finn drew this all over his homework. I thought you would want to see it.” I thrust the offending pieces of paper at her.
She looked them over, one hand rising to cover her heart. “Thank you, Kurt, I’ll deal with this. Why don’t you do to bed now, while I talk to your father, ok?” One arm pulled me close and she kissed the top of my head.
I was more then alright with both of those things. “Ok, I love you.”
Finn was asleep when I finally made it downstairs, one arm over that stupid lion and the blankets kicked all down to the foot of the bed. I tucked him back in and sat down on my bed, sipping my milk and just looking at him. He seemed a little restless tonight, especially considering his medication. Maybe he would talk again, like he had before, and give me some guess as to what was going on in his head.
But he didn’t. By the time I had finished my milk and read a few chapters in my book, all Finn had done was roll over so that his back was to me. The words on the page wavered as I started to doze off, so I turned off the light and curled up.
What felt like seconds later, someone was shaking my shoulder. I tried to push the offending hand away, but it just shook me harder. “What?” I rolled over to find Finn staring at me. The desperation in his face was as effective wake-up as a slushie would have been. “What’s wrong, Finn? Are you sick? Did something happen?”
He climbed onto the bed, kneeling there with one arm still wrapped around Wolf. His jaw worked for a minute and I sat up, sure that something important was about to happen. I switched on the light so I could see his hands clearly. I glanced over at the clock, realizing that it was now close to two in the morning. Something was very wrong. “What Finn?”
Finn squinted in the sudden light, his face thrown into sharp relief. Then he drew in a deep breath. “Kurt.”
Had he just…oh God, he had. Finn was talking. His voice was a low rasp, gravelly from lack of use, but it was still his, a noise that I never thought I would hear again. I tried to keep myself from just knocking him down and smothering him with kisses. Samantha had said to play it cool and act like it was no big deal, or I might frighten him back into silence. “What, Cowboy?”
“I-“His voice cracked and he had to clear his throat before he could keep going. “You said you would listen to me. Will you?”
My thigh was going numb from where my fingers were digging so tightly into it, but I nodded. “Yes. Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen to you.”
As it turned out, Finn remembered exactly what had happened the night Puck died, and everything that had happened since. He looked at me for a brief minute, then nodded and began to tell me the story.
Pairing: Finn/Kurt
Rating: R
A/N: This chapter is a little short, because it was originally part of chapter 15. But it was way too long, and I felt like the story flowed better split like this. Wish me luck, as I'm taking my coydog to be evaluated by a veterinary behaviorist to see what my options for him. Hopefully we can find a way to make him at least semi-normal.
Evil is easy, and has infinite forms
Blaise Pascal
It was like he had sucked the air out of the room with just a few words. I mean, yeah, I had know that it would happen eventually, and that having the man behind bars meant that not only Finn was safe, but so was every body else, but I guess I hadn’t really believed it. “How…who…what’s his name?” Why did I care what his name was?
Finn whimpered softly, the sound so tiny and forlorn that it tore a hole in my heart. I thought that this might be the moment where he finally broke, and gave up the name of the man who had taken him from Lima, but he didn’t. Carole shook her head. “They didn’t tell us. A deputy is going to come by and bring a line up to see if Finn can recognize him. He didn’t want to give us a name, or have us turn on the TV, because we might see something that skews the results.”
“When…when is he coming?” I could barely even think the words; much less force them past my suddenly thick tongue and numb lips.
Maybe that’s what it feels like when Finn tries to talk. Just saying.
“Soon. He should be here before dinner. Finn, do you want to help me or would you rather stay in here with Kurt?”
Finn must not have had a chance to tell her that he and I were fighting. He could have ratted me right then, but he just pressed closer to her. “It’s alright, Sweetie, I’m not going to leave you.” She stood and he rose with her. One hand was fisted into her sweatshirt, and I could suddenly see him at age three or four, still small enough to want to hold hands. “Kurt, would you like to help as well?”
“No, thank you, Carole, I’ll just stay here with Dad. Too many cooks spoil the broth and all that.” I didn’t want to tell her the truth, which was that I didn’t trust my legs not to crumple beneath me if I tried to take a step.
She looked at me for a long time, like she knew that I was lying, but Finn and I were pulling her in different directions, and I couldn’t blame her for choosing him right now. So I gave her that little smile that was really just a twitch of one side of my mouth. “I need to talk to Dad, anyway.”
Once she was gone, Finn trailing after her like a lost puppy, Dad gave me a look that suggested he wished he was anywhere but here, but gamely held out one arm. My knees did try to give way on the first step, but I wobbled my way over to perch on the arm of his armchair. He paused for a minute, then pulled me into his lap. I burrowed against him, squeezing as tightly as I could. “I’m scared.”
“Me too, Kid.” He stroked one hand down my back. “This has all spiraled out of control, and I have no idea how to fix it for everyone. Actually, I don’t know how to fix it for anyone. I thought that his guy getting arrested would change things for the better, but what if it doesn’t?”
“Do you regret it?” I barely recognized my own voice. “Meeting Carole, and having them move in, I mean. If we hadn’t done that, Finn would be fine now.” Wait, did I want him to say he regretted it or not? I was too confused to be sure.
“No. I love Carole, and I love Finn, despite the fact that he wishes I would disappear, and I want the four of us to be a family, whatever that means. What happened, it wasn’t my fault, or your fault, and it had nothing to do with Finn and Carole moving in with us. Maybe it put Finn in harms way that night, but maybe it kept him out of harms way on another night. I might not know about black holes and string theory and all that shit that you do, but I do know fate. For whatever reason, it was Finn’s fate to have this happen, and now we need to deal as best as possible.”
“He hates me right now.” I whispered the words, but my head was on his chest and he could hear them any way.
“Finn does? Why?” He patted my shoulder. “He liked you well enough to let you cut his hair. It looks real nice, by the way. You have a talent.”
I snorted, just so I wouldn’t start crying. “He liked me while I was doing that, until I had to open my big mouth. Now he hates me.”
You are being such a drama king. Finn does not hate you. Honestly, I don’t really think Finn knows how to hate anyone. My guess would be, though, that with everything else going on right now, he’s forgotten you entirely.
Dad slid a hand under my chin and pulled my face up so we could look at each other. “What did you say that upset him?”
“I…” I stopped there, because how could I tell him why I had said what I said without telling him what had happened last night, and what had happened Before Finn went away, and even before Dad and Carole started dating.
Use a very, very edited version. Don’t tell him anything about the kiss, or what Finn told you, or anything else. Think for a second, and you can do this.
“I told him that I thought we were spending too much time together, and that it was hard for me. I just thought that maybe it wasn’t healthy, that we were starting to get codependent and all that. I love him, I really do, but it’s so hard sometimes to try and figure out what he wants and needs and why he won’t just talk and make it easier on all of us. But he got all pissed of and stormed upstairs and now he won’t even look at me.”
The arm across my back tightened reassuringly. “Kurt, Finn doesn’t hate you. You probably hurt his feelings a little, but that’s alright. If you feel like this is too much, you need to tell him that, because there’s no point in making you as sick as he is. I know that you only want to help out, and believe me, you have, but you need to have a life of your own, too. Finn knows that. Besides, he specifically told us to go get you a minute ago, so he must not be too upset.”
“I want to make it better it for him, but I can’t.” Now the traitorous tears had made it to my eyes, but I wasn’t about to let them fall.
“None of us can fix Finn, Kurt. You could be Superman and you still wouldn’t be able to fix Finn. All you can do is love him and hope that he finds the strength to fix himself.”
Kurt loves Finn a lot more then you know.
I wasn’t foolish enough to say that. Actually, I didn’t want to say anything at all. I just wanted to let Dad hold me in a way that he hadn’t done for a long time, and pretend that I was still small enough for him to fix all of my problems.
From my position, I could hear Carole talking to Finn, telling him finish with the salad and complimenting him on his new haircut and reminding him that he needed to thank me for making him look so nice. He hadn’t, but he probably would have if I hadn’t gone ahead and pissed him off.
The doorbell rang, making both Dad and I jump. This was it. A police officer was going to come into the house and ask all the questions over again, because Finn hadn’t been able to answer them the first time, and he wasn’t going to answer them this time either, but they would just keep trying, pushing him from all angles until they finally gave up and left, and Finn would be worse then he had been before. Only this time there would be pictures, and what if Finn couldn’t pick the right one? Did that mean they had arrested the wrong guy, or that Finn just couldn’t remember what had happened? What if the unreliable memory of a traumatized teenager got the guy off?
What if you turn into a giant dish of tapioca pudding? What if Finn can identify him? What if losing the stress of wondering if that man is going to come back is what it takes for him to talk again? What if, what if, what if? Now stop underestimating Finn. He survived didn’t he?
Dad nudged me to my feet, so he could get up and answer the door. I peeked around him, pleased to see that it was Officer Logan, and not one of the older detectives. Finn seemed to like him better, though everything was a guessing game with Finn. “Hello Mr. Hummel, Kurt.” I noticed that he was carrying a brown leather bag, one that was probably filled with pictures.
“Burt is fine. Finn is in the kitchen with his mother.”
“Great.” He waited patiently for us to lead him in, even though every cop in Lima knows our house as well as they do their own by now. “Hello again, Finn.”
Finn reminded me of a skittish colt, all tense body and rolling eyes. He took a few rapid gulps of the open soda in front of him and waved weakly. “Did your Mom tell you what’s going on?”
A slow nod. “Great. Now I have to get some legal stuff out of the way before we get down to business, alright?”
He took something out of the bag. “Because we might use this if the case comes to trial, we want to have clear evidence of what happened. This is just a video camera to show a potential jury exactly which person you pointed out, ok? This also covers my ass so the defense can’t claim that I coerced you or told you which one to pick. Are you with me so far?”
Finn’s nod was a little stronger this time, and I appreciated the effort Officer Logan was putting forth to try and put Finn at ease. “I’m going to turn it on right now.” He clicked a switch and the little red light came on. “Now, I want to be sure that you understand that you are not in trouble, Finn, and you are not being charged with a crime. Because you aren’t being charged with anything, you don’t have to talk to me. You can tell me to stop at any time, and I will. Also, because you are less then 18, your Mom has to stay with you. If you don’t want her to do that, we can appoint something called a guardian ad litem, which is an adult who basically comes in and makes sure that I’m not bullying you and that I’m being fair. You’ve indicated in the past that you would rather your mother be with you. Do you still feel that way?”
Now his nod was very distinct. “Ok. I have 36 pictures for you to look at. The pictures are all of different men. I’m going to lay them down nine at a time, and I want you to look at them and see if you see the person who took you. If you aren’t sure, you can tell me that, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to pick someone if you don’t see the right person, ok?”
Finn was starting to look a little pale, but he nodded bravely. “Good. Do you have any questions before we start?” Since Finn gave no indication that he did, the officer laid down the first nine pictures. I peeked at them, noticing that they were all of stocky men in their fifties, bald, and wearing glasses. Every one of them looked perfectly normal, the sort of guy that I would feel comfortable asking for directions if I was lost. Finn looked at all nine and shook his head. “No? What about these?”
The next nine pictures came down, and Finn again shook his head. He had dismissed each one almost immediately, which gave me hope that he remembered exactly what he was supposed to be looking for. Of course, if I had been through what he had, my kidnappers face would be burned into my mind as well.
He barely had the third set down before Finn pointed at a picture in the second row. He tapped it over and over again, not hesitating at all. Officer Logan picked it up, making sure to show it to the still running camera. “This is the man? Finn, are you 100% sure?”
Abruptly Finn’s complexion went from white to green and I backed up as he leaned over and threw up all over the floor. Carole was on him in a second. “It’s alright, baby, it’s alright.” She shot the death glare that mothers are so very good at at Officer Logan. “I think he’s sure. Burt, be useful and go get a towel or something!”
We all knew that her rage wasn’t really directed at Dad, or anyone else in the room. I followed him upstairs, pausing at the linen closet to pull out a couple of washcloths.
I could hear Carole and Officer Logan talking in the kitchen when I returned, running the cloths under the cold water tap and offering one to Finn so he could wipe his face. Considering the amount of throwing up Finn had done over the past two days, he had to be feeling terrible. He made a sign at me, the gestured to the policeman. “He says that he’s sorry.”
“No problem, Finn. Getting sick like that happens more then you would think it does, and a lot of the time its guys older and bigger then you. It’s just stress.” Finn offered him a weak smile.
“Did he pick the right guy? The one you arrested, I mean.” I took the washcloth back, just as Dad came down and tossed a towel over the mess on the floor.
Officer Logan nodded. “Yes, Finn chose the man we arrested. Is there anything else you would like to add, Finn? A name, or any other description?”
I could have told him not to bother. Finn wasn’t even looking at the pictures now. Instead he was focused on the kitchen tile. Luckily, the policeman got it, too. “Finn, you’ve been a great help tonight. If you do think of something else that you might want to tell us, you know how to get in contact with us. I need to get this back to the station, so we can coordinate with the New Mexico police.”
Carole nodded. “Finn, why don’t you go downstairs and rest for a little bit?”
No. With you. Dinner?
Only Finn could be interested in food less then 5 minutes after throwing up. But having an appetite was good, right? It meant he wasn’t going to freak out and stop eating like he had last time.
Maybe Carole was having the same thoughts, because she nodded. “Why don’t you go lay down on the couch? Dinner should be done in 10 minutes or so, and I’ll bring you a plate.”
He didn’t look convinced, so Dad tried. “I have some games TiVo’d, if you want to watch them. You know how to get them, right?”
Finn looked at Dad for a long time, their eyes locked. I had no idea what was being said between them, but I did sense that it was something important. Finally Finn rose on unsteady legs and wandered out of the room. We all released a breath.
I didn’t want to be the one to break the uncomfortable silence that had descended on us all, but I couldn’t help it. I tried to strive for an adult countenance in everything I did, but my voice came out completely childlike. “That’s good, right? That Finn recognized the guy right away, and they arrested the right person. It means that things will get back to normal soon?” I recognized the stupidity of what I was saying, even as the words were still leaving my mouth.
Dear Santa, for Christmas this year, I want a rocket and a sled and….yeah, if you believe that this will make things better, you’re a moron. This is a step forward, yes, but I wouldn’t guarantee that Finn sees it that way. Actually, I would think that he sees this as his life getting immeasurably worse.
“It’s good that the wrong guy wasn’t arrested, yes.” Carole was choosing her words carefully. “And it’s good that we don’t have to worry about the man coming back, but it means that there’s going to be a trial. It means that Finn is going to have to get up in a courtroom, and point to that man and say ‘yes, that’s the man who killed my best friend. That’s the man who took me away from my family, and kept me for four months. That’s the man who did God knows what else to me, and that’s the man I managed to escape from.’ I can’t even imagine what that’s going to do to Finn, and to all of us.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I don’t know if any of us can do it.”
“We can.” Dad was nodding. “I know this family has been through a lot, but we made it this far, and we can make it the rest of the way.”
She smiled weakly, and reached out to squeeze his hand. “Thank you, Burt. Kurt, do you think we can do this?”
“Of course we can. There are four of us and one of him. We’ll win if for no other reason then sheer numbers. Anyway, Finn is tough, and he’s resourceful. He can do it; I’m just not 100% positive that he knows he can do it. But that’s what the family is there for, to help him out, right?” I hoped that I sounded confident and not like I was going to faint.
Something in the middle of that babble must have been right, because she slipped her arm around my shoulders. “You’re right; it is the four of us. Not just me and Finn, but you boys, too. There’s a reason that the four of us were brought together this year, and it’s so we would have each other when this all happened.”
Yeah...want to know the real reason that the four of you were brought together this year? You spell it K-U-R-T.
So what? Did it really matter how we had gotten together, or did it just matter that we had gotten together? I could put Carole and Dad together all I liked, but if they didn’t hit it off, that would have been the end of it. Or they would have broken up when Finn and I were doing our best to ruin the relationship. So I had given them a little push in the right direction, big deal. We were together now because we love each other, and that’s what counts. “Maybe we should all eat in the living room with Finn. It will be like a picnic, but better, because there won’t be dirt and bugs and things that ruin my clothes.”
Carole smiled. “That’s a lovely idea, Kurt. We can watch a movie together and spend some time as a family.”
The timer buzzed, and Dad helped her get the chicken out of the oven. I peeked in on Finn, who was lying quietly on the couch. “Hey, Cowboy.” His head came up and he smiled at me. I sat on the floor next to him. “Living room picnic?” He nodded enthusiastically.
I pressed on hand to his shoulder. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I should have listened to what you were trying to tell me, instead of pushing you away. Forgive me?”
Yes. I was getting a real smile now, the kind that showed a tiny dimple on the left cheek.
“I promise that I’ll listen to you from now on, ok? No limits, no questions, even if it takes you an entire week to tell me what you want to.”
“Kurt! Come make your plate, please.” Dad was calling me now, and I turned back to the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Finn’s eyes bored holes into my back, the same way they had done to Dad a few minutes ago, and, again, I had no idea what he wanted. It was ok, though, I was pretty sure that Finn would tell me when he was ready.
I took some of the chicken breast (skinning it first, of course), and a bowl of salad, as well as some of the steamed veggies that made Finn gag but I loved. Carole had set some raw ones aside for him and I watched as she transferred them to his plate. She had given him a small salad, light dressing and one leg of the chicken. It wasn’t much, compared to how he usually ate, but there were always seconds if his stomach was up to it.
We let Dad and Carole pick the movie, which was how we found ourselves all on the floor, the dishes forgotten as we all watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Johnny Depp, not Gene Wilder, even though no one in their right mind would find him sexy in this one. Well, at least I hoped not.
It all went really well, until the first Oompa-Loompa song came on. Finn instantly came to life, his attention fixed on the screen. By the second song, I was ready, and I pulled him to his feet. “Come on, you know this.”
This movie had come from Finn and Carole’s, and we had watched it together one morning, so I knew he had seen it at least twice. Judging by the dings and small scratches on the disc itself, more then twice was a safe bet. He rolled his eyes, but he let me guide him into position.
Of course, this was Finn Hudson we were talking about, and knowing each and every step in his brain didn’t mean that he could translate that to his oversized body. But he jumped into it with both feet and his whole heart, which was how Finn did everything. It was that second that I knew he was going to be alright. Maybe not today, or next week, or even six months from now, but, when all of this was over, he would still be Finn.
With Finn’s spastic moves and my attempts to avoid stepping on either the dinner dishes or our parents, the song was nearly over before we got in sync. Dad and Carole tried to hide it at first, but they were both laughing hysterically by the time we were done. Dad grabbed the remote. “Hang on, boys; I’m going to back it up. I want to see this dance again.”
I had obviously been possessed by some sort of brain slug, because I actually took my position again, instead of sitting down and refusing to get sweaty. Certainly I would have rather died then have anyone else see me being so silly and wild. But Finn’s good mood was contagious, and I let him drag me into even wilder moves this run through. By the time it was over, he had spun me in so many circles that I could barely stand up, though part of that might have been from me laughing so hard. Finn was laughing too, though, of course, he produced no actual noise.
Carole applauded us both enthusiastically. “That was…Burt, what was that?”
“That was quite possibly the most…interesting interpretation of a classic movie that I’ve ever seen. Kurt, I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh like that in a long time.”
Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure that I remembered the last time I had laughed like this. Finn flopped next to me, his smile making the sweat stain on my shirt worth it. Well, almost.
Despite their best efforts, neither Finn nor I would get up and dance to the two remaining songs, though he tried to get Carole to get up and do it. She had laughed and told him that she was a lousy dancer, at which point he had made a few gestures that I chose to interpret as ‘I can’t either, but I did it’. She had still refused, leading to a dramatic sigh on his part to see if he could change her mind. It hadn’t worked, and he had settled back down to finish the movie.
The entire evening had a surreal feel to it, with the police and the eating in the living room and the crazy dancing, but it had to be that way. I was willing to do anything, go to the ends of the earth, if it meant taking Finn’s mind of what had happened today.
Once the movie was over, none of us really wanted to move and risk breaking the spell that we had fallen under. Finally, Carole smiled. “This was a great night. We should do this every week. A movie, or even some sort of game night. Finn’s really good at Pictionary, aren’t you, Finn?”
He beamed at the compliment, nodding happily. Dad jumped in. “Doesn’t that sound like fun, Kurt? We haven’t played much, since most games aren’t much fun with only two people.”
There was nothing less cool then spending one night a week playing games and watching movies with your father, his girlfriend, and your new stepbrother slash crush. But I couldn’t deny a certain fascination with the idea. Dad and I hadn’t done that much as a family since Mom had died, though, so I wasn’t quite as over the idea as most teenagers might be.
“I would like that.” My voice was soft.
Carole looked to the left. “Finn? What do you think?”
He shot her a thumbs up, then signed that he was tired and wanted to go to bed. It was an easy, clear, sign, and one of the few that both Carole and Dad knew. “Do you need anything before you go?”
It was still early, but he had slept poorly the night before, and certainly had a tough enough day today. I guessed I didn’t blame him for wanting to get it over with. Finn told Carole and I goodnight, then, after a very, very long pause, signed it to Dad as well. It was one of the first times he had directly acknowledged Dad since he had come back, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
Neither was anyone else, but Finn wasn’t waiting for a response anyway. He gave Carole a kiss and went downstairs to do whatever it was he did to get ready for bed. It was only when he was gone that I remembered we had never finished his homework. I voiced that to Carole, who smiled gently and told me that it was fine, that that didn’t matter right now.
Then she gestured for me to sit down. “Listen, Baby, your father told me what the two of you talked about earlier. About you feeling like you’re expected to do too much for Finn?”
Dad! “I didn’t mean that.” Great. Now Carole was going to hate me because I was picking on her son.
“Yes, you did.” She sat next to me on the couch. “It’s ok, Kurt, I’m not upset with you. You’re 17 years old, and I know that none of this is what you would have chosen. We’ve tossed you into the caretaker role, and that isn’t fair to you”
It was hard for me to make Carole understand the problem, because it was hard for me to understand myself. “It’s not that. It’s not that don’t want to spend time with Finn, or that I don’t think he’s great the way he is, because I do. It’s just that…” I stopped there, because there was no way I could tell her that it was because I had a crush on her son. And since Dad was less then five feet away, telling her would be the same thing as telling him, and that would just ruin everything. “I don’t know what it is. I got frustrated with him, and I said something I didn’t mean. I really don’t mind hanging out with him, I promise. And it is hanging out, it’s not caretaking. Caretaking is doing stuff like feeding and diapers and stuff. Finn’s fine.”
She looked at me for a long time, and I remembered way too late that Carole could be as eerily perceptive as her son, and far more often. “Ok, as long as you aren’t feeling too overwhelmed. Maybe you and I can talk a little more about this when we have our spa day.”
And you, my friend, are big time busted.
I hated that voice with such a passion. “Sure, that would be great.” I forced a smile. “I think I’m going to head downstairs, too. I really want to work on this book I’ve been reading, and I don’t think that I’ll bother Finn with the light. When he crashes, he crashes hard.” Of course, both the melatonin and the antianxiety medication that he was still taking had a lot to do with that, but that was another thing we just didn’t talk about.
I made a quick trip through the kitchen to warm some milk. While it was slowly heating, I noticed Finn’s homework still on the counter, the pages covered in his messy scrawl. I picked it up, intending to figure out how far he had gotten and where we needed to start from in the morning, but I was distracted by the doodles on the paper. They were…honestly, they were a little disturbing.
Flipping through the pages, I counted four guns, six cars (two of which were running little stick people over), and sets of little people doing things that I didn’t want to think too hard about. There was also a pair of handcuffs, repeated over and over, several times on each page.
Maybe this is a good thing. Finn is obviously doing some heavy processing right now. My guess would be that he’s trying to tell you guys what happened to him. So, what is Finn trying to tell you?
That…ok, I could do this. I loved puzzles and I was good at interpreting things. Let’s see, I understood the guns, Puck had been shot. Finn knew that, so he had seen it happen. As much as knowing that broke my heart, I couldn’t say that it surprised me. The cars were…what?
I would say that the cars were telling me that that was how the man had taken him, but why were the cars hitting a person? Puck hadn’t been hit by a car, and Finn had been tested extensively at the hospital, revealing no healed fractures or other signs that he had been severely injured.
Maybe the guy just bumped him. If he was knocked to the ground and stunned, it would be easier to make him do whatever the guy wanted.
Belatedly, I realized again that I still didn’t know the mans name. I knew that Finn wouldn’t tell me, but Officer Logan could have.
His name is Satan. It’s Evil. It’s Legion. Does it really matter what his name is?
No, it didn’t. I would find out soon enough, anyway. The arrest would be in the paper soon enough, then there would have to be a trial. So, back to the drawings. I skipped over the people, because I wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. The handcuffs were easy; since I had seen Finn’s wrists once he got back. So Finn wasn’t telling me anything that I didn’t already know. Someone had shot Puck. Someone had taken him in a car. Someone had restrained him with handcuffs.
But the point is, he’s telling you. Yes, you know all of those things already, but you don’t know them from Finn. You know them from the police, and from the hospital records. This is Finn trying to ask you for help.
Maybe Finn wasn’t trying to tell me at all. Carole checked his work as often as I did, and he might have been trying to tell her, instead. While I was thinking about it, the microwave dinged at me.
I removed the mug, careful to not burn myself and decided that, this time, I was taking the coward’s way out. “Carole? Can you come look at this?” This way, no matter who Finn had by trying to tell (if he even cared, Finn might have just wanted someone to listen to him) and I was off the hook for trying to figure this out alone.
“What is it, Baby?” She was there in a heartbeat. “Are you hurt?”
“No, but Finn drew this all over his homework. I thought you would want to see it.” I thrust the offending pieces of paper at her.
She looked them over, one hand rising to cover her heart. “Thank you, Kurt, I’ll deal with this. Why don’t you do to bed now, while I talk to your father, ok?” One arm pulled me close and she kissed the top of my head.
I was more then alright with both of those things. “Ok, I love you.”
Finn was asleep when I finally made it downstairs, one arm over that stupid lion and the blankets kicked all down to the foot of the bed. I tucked him back in and sat down on my bed, sipping my milk and just looking at him. He seemed a little restless tonight, especially considering his medication. Maybe he would talk again, like he had before, and give me some guess as to what was going on in his head.
But he didn’t. By the time I had finished my milk and read a few chapters in my book, all Finn had done was roll over so that his back was to me. The words on the page wavered as I started to doze off, so I turned off the light and curled up.
What felt like seconds later, someone was shaking my shoulder. I tried to push the offending hand away, but it just shook me harder. “What?” I rolled over to find Finn staring at me. The desperation in his face was as effective wake-up as a slushie would have been. “What’s wrong, Finn? Are you sick? Did something happen?”
He climbed onto the bed, kneeling there with one arm still wrapped around Wolf. His jaw worked for a minute and I sat up, sure that something important was about to happen. I switched on the light so I could see his hands clearly. I glanced over at the clock, realizing that it was now close to two in the morning. Something was very wrong. “What Finn?”
Finn squinted in the sudden light, his face thrown into sharp relief. Then he drew in a deep breath. “Kurt.”
Had he just…oh God, he had. Finn was talking. His voice was a low rasp, gravelly from lack of use, but it was still his, a noise that I never thought I would hear again. I tried to keep myself from just knocking him down and smothering him with kisses. Samantha had said to play it cool and act like it was no big deal, or I might frighten him back into silence. “What, Cowboy?”
“I-“His voice cracked and he had to clear his throat before he could keep going. “You said you would listen to me. Will you?”
My thigh was going numb from where my fingers were digging so tightly into it, but I nodded. “Yes. Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen to you.”
As it turned out, Finn remembered exactly what had happened the night Puck died, and everything that had happened since. He looked at me for a brief minute, then nodded and began to tell me the story.