Fic: Some Assembly Required, for narceus (2/2)
Title: Some Assembly Required
Author: lls_mutant
Recipient: narceus
Rating: PG to PG-13
Word Count: 18,300
Warnings: no warnings
Summary: Merging two families into one isn't always as easy as you'd think, especially when both families come with relatives, living and dead.
Author's Note: Thanks to kappamaki33 for looking this over and her advice!
To part 1
"So I take it you liked her," Carole said, settling on the couch, the phone cradled against her ear.
"She's extraordinary," Kurt said happily.
"But you didn't call and ask to talk to me just to discuss my former mother-in-law," Carole said.
"No." She could see Kurt's face changing into something more serious, even though he was miles away at Dalton. "I had a question."
"I figured. What's going on?"
Kurt hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Do you think," he finally said slowly, "that Dad would be all right if I stayed at Dalton for a weekend?"
Carole's eyebrows went up. On the one hand, Kurt could be so independent, wanting to do his own thing and often not worrying too much about permission. On the other hand, this was Burt. A lot of that teenage behavior went out of the window if he was at all worried about Burt.
"I think he'd be fine with it, honey," she said carefully. "He'll probably be happy that you're settling in there."
"You think so?" Kurt still sounded worried.
"I'm not entirely sure," Carole said, not wanting to give the final say when it wasn't her kid in question, "but I'm pretty sure he'll be fine with you asking."
"All right. Thank you, Carole." She could hear Kurt letting out a sigh of relief. She talked to him for a few minutes more, and then hung up, a little smile playing at the corner of her lips as she did so. Burt would be a little disappointed, but he would be fine with it, if Kurt was happy. Carole was just glad that he finally was.
***
"You psyched for the game tonight?" Burt asked as he sanded the wood for the bookshelf.
"Yeah." Finn sighed, and then tried to sound more enthusiastic. "No, yeah. I am. We've got a great team, and I really think we can get to the championships."
"I think you can, too," Burt said, with all the confidence in the world. "So what's bugging you?"
"Rachel's mad at me," Finn admitted.
"Oh." Burt raised his eyebrows. "Can I ask what happened?"
"You can ask, but it doesn't make any sense."
Burt nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get that. You okay?"
"I guess. At least for now. I mean, I've got football to keep my mind off it, right?"
"Right." Burt frowned.
"What's wrong?" Finn asked.
Burt smoothed the paper more slowly over the edge of the shelf. "My dad's coming to the game tonight." He glanced at Finn from the side of his eyes. "That okay with you?"
Finn shrugged. "Why wouldn't it be? Isn't it okay with you?"
"Yeah. It is. It's just…" Burt adjusted his cap. "He never came to one of Kurt's games, you know? I mean, I know Kurt didn't play long, but still. He's talking about coming to Sectionals, too."
"That's good, isn't it?" Finn asked. "Kurt will be singing at Sectionals." Burt didn't answer. "And he's come to other competitions before, right?"
"No."
"Oh." The realization washed over Finn slowly. Mr. Hummel was coming to hear him sing. Not Kurt. No wonder Burt looked pissed.
"Look," Burt said, "forget I said anything, okay? This isn't something you should be worrying about. You shouldn’t even know about it, really."
"No, it's okay," Finn said. He wondered how Kurt would feel when he saw his grandfather in the audience this time. Finn wanted to believe Kurt would just be happy- look how happy he'd gotten over that pin that Nana had given him- but Finn suspected that Kurt would put the pieces together. From the way Burt talked, it sounded like this weird, quiet rejection by Kurt's grandfather had been going on for a long time. And Finn knew how that felt. His mom's parents hardly talked to them. It sucked.
"You know what?" he said carefully. "Mr. Schuester's giving solos to some of the other kids this time, like Quinn and Sam and Santana. Me and Rachel aren't singing them."
"Yeah?" Burt glanced at him. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah. I'm just going to be swaying in the background." Finn faked a laugh. "I think it's kind of crazy- if you want to win you put your best players in the starting lineup, right? But that's what's happening."
"I didn’t know that," Burt repeated. He smiled. "Thanks for telling me."
"No problem." Finn looked at him. "You're still gonna come, right?"
"I'd come if you and Kurt were just tapping your feet," Burt said. "But I think it might put my dad off."
It was a strange thing, and Finn hoped he had done the right thing by telling Burt that. After all, maybe if Mr. Hummel came to Sectionals, he'd get how much Kurt loved Glee and stuff. Or maybe not, judging by the way Burt was smiling, like he was glad to have a reason that Mr. Hummel couldn't come. Because yeah, if Mr. Hummel started in on Kurt's range or something, or comparing him to Finn- especially if Kurt didn't get a solo- it would be worse than if he'd never come at all.
"I think we've got this about done," Burt said. Together they hoisted the shelf up to a standing position and stood back to admire their handwork. "Looks good," Burt said approvingly. "All we have to do now is paint it. And this is a good weekend to do it without Kurt around to complain we're using eggshell instead of white."
Finn laughed, but then caught himself. "Wait, there's a difference?"
"I know, right?" Burt clapped Finn on the shoulder. "We'll do it tomorrow. Right now, you'd better go get ready for your game."
"Yeah."
"And Finn? Thanks."
Finn nodded. He wasn't sure he understood what had just happened completely, but he was sure that somewhere in there, he'd said he right thing.
***
Kurt would never say the weekend at Dalton was bad. Blaine had spent a lot of time with him, not just because this was the first weekend Kurt could spend at Dalton and he was being nice, but because Blaine wanted to. Kurt knew he was more than capable of making things up in his head, but he'd been careful enough with Blaine to know that Blaine was the one suggesting things for them to do, and that Blaine really did want to spend time with him. Blaine even managed to smooth over the disaster that was his Sectionals audition (Kurt still didn't quite understand where he'd gone wrong, but Blaine assured him he'd get it eventually.) So it was a good weekend.
Blaine had spent time with other people, too, leaving Kurt on his own. Which turned out to be fine, because all of the Warblers were friendly. Kurt had eaten lunch with Nick and Jeff, and David had offered to tutor him in math to get him caught up. And Kurt's lab partner, who couldn't sing a note but who was a good guy, invited Kurt to go to the movies with him and some friends. (Kurt had refused, but only because they were going to see Due Date. No. Just… no.) He'd had a good weekend- he really had.
He was sitting at his desk in his room on Sunday night when the phone rang. Kurt glanced at the caller ID, and then answered it immediately. "You do know I don't deliver pizza."
"Ha ha. I can't call to say hello?" Finn said through a mouthful of something.
"No, you can. I'm just surprised that you knew that the phone was used for something other than ordering takeout or delivery."
"Yeah. Rachel explained it to me," Finn said in a voice that Kurt couldn't tell if he was making an ironic joke or absolutely serious. The first seemed out of character, but the second was just too terrifying to be believed. "So what's up?"
"I don't know. You called me." Kurt sat back in his desk chair, stretching. He still had at least two hours of reading to go. "Why are you calling me, anyway?"
"I was complaining I hadn't talked to you in a while," Finn said. "And Mercedes and Rachel started lecturing about the phone, and that I could just pick up and call. I tried to explain that guys don't talk on the phone, but then they asked me if I remembered who exactly you were."
"They have a point," Kurt said dryly.
"Yeah, but that means you could have picked up the phone and called."
"Mmm." Kurt fell silent for that one.
"So how is Dalton, anyway?" Finn asked cautiously. "Everything going okay?"
"Everything's fine." Given how upset Finn had been about Kurt even coming here, Kurt wasn't sure how much Finn wanted to hear. He looked at the picture on the desk of him and Finn, the one of them in their tuxes at the wedding. They looked relaxed and happy there. Even when he was home, it was easy to talk to Finn. So why was there so much silence between them on the phone? "How are Dad and Carole?" Kurt asked, more just to say something.
"They're fine," Finn said. "They went out. Oh, and Burt finally told me about his secret stash of chips he thinks we all don't know about." Both of them laughed, but the conversation petered out again. In the silence, Kurt could hear Finn chewing, and even fainter, something on the TV.
"What are you watching?"
"Oh. There's not much on, but I was surfing and- you're going to think this is nuts."
"Oh, good. Blackmail. Tell me."
"Did you ever see American Tail?"
Kurt sat up straighter. "I loved that movie when I was a kid!"
"Yeah? Me, too. My mom picked it up for, like, a buck, and I had a month where I watched it almost every day."
"I must have watched it for two or three," Kurt remembered. "Did it age well?"
"Not really. The voices are really shrill, especially on the song."
"Oh, I remember that song," Kurt sighed wistfully. "Somewhere out there…"
"Dude, you are not singing on the phone."
Kurt smirked. "Beneath the pale moonlight," he continued, more to annoy Finn than anything else, and deliberately cracking the high note. "Someone's thinking of me and loving me tonight. Come on, Finn, you know you can't-"
"Somewhere out there, someone's saying a prayer," Finn sang back before Kurt could even finish mocking him. "That we'll find one another in that big somewhere out there."
"And even though we know how very far apart we are, it helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star."
"And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby, it helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky."
They burst into the last lyrics together, no longer squeaking and mocking, but singing the song to the best of their abilities. "Somewhere out there, if love can see us through, then we'll be together. Somewhere out there, out where dreams come true."
Their voices faded out, and Kurt had to admit they had sounded really, really good together. But then the reality of what they had just done hit him, at the same time it hit Finn.
"Dude," Finn said, "did we just sing each other 'Somewhere, Out There' over the phone?"
"Oh my god. We did." Kurt was torn between mortification and amusement. "We should never speak of this again."
"Yeah. Totally." Finn was laughing. "You know, we sounded really good, though. We should sing that at Sectionals."
"We should," Kurt agreed, and then they both stopped because they both remembered that they would be singing against each other at Sectionals. "Oh," Kurt said quietly.
"Yeah," Finn said.
"Let's not talk about that," Kurt said. He dove into the first question he could think of. "How's Rachel?"
That got Finn talking, and they got off the subject, Finn droning on as Kurt made "mm-hmm" noises at appropriate intervals. They talked for fifteen minutes more, until Finn must have decided he'd done his brotherly duty and they said goodnight. It seemed silly, but as Kurt hung up the phone, he thought the room seemed a lot quieter than it had before.
He stood up and walked over to his window, looking out over the lit paths on Dalton's small campus. The sun had fully set and the sky was dark, and when he looked up he could see a star. A bright star. He stood staring at it, and as he watched it twinkle, he couldn't help smiling.
The thing about Dalton was that it was a fresh start. And someday, Kurt really wanted that- a fresh start in a place where people wouldn't judge him based solely on provincial, back-water, hick-town standards of normalcy. But he'd wanted to make that start on his own terms, with his own timing. Not to have it forced on him by some ham-fisted bully who was so far in the closet that he could be a clothes hanger. (If Karofsky even knew what clothes hangers were. Kurt had his doubts.) Kurt ran his fingers over the edge of his phone. Dalton was great, but he didn't have those deep connections. They were friendly, but they were friendly because Kurt was human, not because Kurt was Kurt. He'd earned those friendships back with New Directions, as rocky as some of them might be, and he'd earned his brotherhood with Finn most of all.
If he was home right now, he'd probably be fighting with Finn, or doing his own homework up in his room. It wasn't like he and Finn would be having all of the magical bonding moments that Kurt had once imagined. He knew that. He'd grown up enough to acknowledge that. But that didn't mean he still missed it. He looked up at the sky one last time and shook his head. He was being ridiculous, staring at stars.
He had no idea that, back in Lima, Finn was doing the same thing.
***
"It's going to be a disaster," Kurt predicted. "Your Nana is going to meet my grandfather, they're going to exchange war stories and then fall in love, and they're going to get married and it's going to put us on some talk show." They were both sitting on their knees on the couch, peering out the windows at the driveway.
"First, my nana is, like, twenty years older than your grandpa," Finn said. "Second, I think Nana's got better taste than- oops." Kurt was staring at him strangely. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"No, I quite agree," Kurt said. "I just didn't expect you to agree with that. Don't you get along with my grandfather?"
"We get along okay," Finn said. "I guess. But he is kind of a jerk."
"Kind of." Kurt rolled his eyes and leaned on his elbows, looking out the window again. "He's a complete and utter homophobic ass who has refused to be seen in public with me for the past five years. Dad's tried to keep it from me, but even he can't hide that."
"Oh." Finn hadn't realized how clearly Kurt saw the situation. Fortunately, a car pulled up and ended the conversation.
They made it through all the hellos, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, and the first football game with no incident whatsoever. The two grandparents were civil to each other, but there were no obvious sparks. Kurt spent a lot of the morning helping Carole in the kitchen, and Finn sat out in the family room with Burt and the grandparents, talking about football and happily commenting on the games that were happening that afternoon. It was dinner that was the disaster.
It started out innocently enough, with Kurt poking his head out of the kitchen and calling for Burt to come handle the gravy.
"The gravy?" Mr. Hummel asked, furrowing his brow. "What do they need your help with for the gravy?"
"Burt makes great gravy," Finn said enthusiastically. "No lumps or anything. My mom's always has lumps."
Nana nudged Finn's ankle with her toe. "I'm sure it's better than what you know how to make," she teased.
"Of course it is," Mr. Hummel said. "Finn doesn't make gravy. The only thing men should have to do with the dinner is carving the turkey."
Finn frowned. "Look, I love my mom, but you haven't tasted her gravy compared to Burt's. And Kurt's been in the kitchen the whole day."
"Yeah, well, that's Kurt." Mr. Hummel sat back with a scowl. Finn glanced over at Nana for her reaction, but she was looking at the TV remote with a frown.
"We should turn it up," she suggested, doing so. Then there was a particularly exciting play that had two of them cheering and one swearing at the screen, so the conversation went by the wayside.
It got picked up again when Carole came out into the living room. "Dinner is served," she said, smiling and gesturing towards the dining room table. Finn managed to restrain himself from running out, because Thanksgiving dinner? Definitely one of the highlights of the year. And when he got to the table, the food smelled amazing.
Kurt appeared beside him wearing oven mitts and holding a casserole dish. "I made twice-baked sweet potatoes, just for you," he told Finn, brandishing the dish. "To show you the extent of my brotherly devotion, I used full fat sour cream, a stick of butter, brown sugar, toasted pecans, and marshmallows. The fat content alone should kill you, but you'll die with heaven on your tongue, courtesy of Martha Stewart and myself."
"I love you," Finn said, staring at the perfectly browned marshmallows that topped the potatoes that had been stuffed back into their shell. Because really, when presented with something that smelled that good, what else could you say?
Kurt did that weird thing he did with his head when he was acting all prim and proper and trying not to show that he was incredibly pleased with himself and put the casserole dish on the table. Finn sat down next to him, and after a short grace, they all started passing the food. Finn was so busy on loading up his plate that he barely listened to the conversation.
By the time he tuned back in, the adults were talking about the recent elections for governor. Finn had only barely followed them (and only because they were covering it in Current Events), but apparently Nana and Mr. Hummel had very different ideas.
"I'm surprised you didn't vote for Strickland," Mr. Hummel was saying. "After everything he did for vets? I don't know about you, but I sure appreciated him making my retirement tax-free."
"I do appreciate that," Nana acknowledged, cutting her turkey neatly. "But he has other ideas I don't agree with. I'm sure you can understand that."
"Oh. You're one of them," Mr. Hummel said disapprovingly, and Finn assumed that Mr. Hummel meant liberals or democrats or something.
"One of whom?" Nana asked.
"One of them Catholics."
Oh. Oh, wait. This wasn't going to be good. Nana was offended, Finn could see it in her posture. "Yes," she said. "I'm Catholic. What, pray tell, is so terribly wrong with that?"
"You people have a funny way of forgetting the whole separation of church and state thing."
"I hardly see it that way."
"Yeah, and that's the problem. Take that marriage amendment, for example." Finn had to think which one Mr. Hummel meant and if it was meant to ban or legalize gay marriage, because the national one had been, like, ages ago.
Nana glanced at Kurt. "I hardly think that that's an appropriate thing to argue about right now and-"
Mr. Hummel overrode her. "I'm not saying I agree with it, okay? The idea of fags and- excuse me, language, right Burt?" He rolled his eyes as Burt turned red with anger. "The idea of men marrying men and women marrying women isn't right. But the idea of changing the Constitution to take away the rights of Americans sickens me even more. That's not what this country's ever been about."
That shocked Finn down to his toes, and Kurt must have felt the same, because when Finn looked at him, his face was white. Nana glanced at Kurt as well. "This is not the place-" she began again.
"Bet you would have been in line for Prohibition, too," Mr. Hummel said. "And look how well that worked out! Ha!"
"Prohibition was also meant to protect people," Nana said primly.
Mr. Hummel snorted. "Yeah, protecting. That's what they told us when they sent us those draft notices and said, 'leave your wife and kids and come die for some bullshit.' I've had my rights taken away from me, lady, and no one should have that happen. The day we do that is the day the Communists start winning."
"Enough!" Burt shouted. "That's enough of this conversation!" And to Finn's surprise, he wasn't just glaring at Mr. Hummel, but at Nana, too. It was when he realized that Burt was red with anger why Kurt was so white. Kurt wasn't shocked at his grandfather, but because Nana…. The realization washed over Finn like a wave. Nana didn't believe in gay marriage.
Oh. Whoa.
Burt's color was returning to normal. "That's enough, all right?" he said, sitting back down at his place. "No more political talk. This is a family dinner."
"Right."
Mr. Hummel didn't seem bothered, but Nana seemed distressed. She reached over and patted Kurt's hand. Kurt sat frozen, his face still stiff with shock. "Kurt, sweetheart, you are a very lovely, very sweet boy. Please don't think that I would ever think anything else, all right?"
Kurt opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Finn felt terrible for him. You are thinking something else, he wanted to say, and maybe if it had been anyone else, he would have. But this was his grandmother, and you didn't talk back to your grandmother.
"Good," Burt practically snarled. "Good. Now let's act like the family we are and not be tearing each other down at the Thanksgiving table."
"You obviously don't remember Thanksgiving at our house," Mr. Hummel muttered, but he obligingly changed the subject. "Cincinatti Bengals are playing the Jets tonight. What do you think their chances are, Finn?"
Finn sat up straight at the sound of his own name, "I think the Bengals have a chance," he said, starting to eat again. He started arguing companionably with Mr. Hummel about the game scheduled for tonight, and after a bit, Burt and Nana joined in, and even his mother added a comment or two. It felt like it was smoothed over, but beside Finn, he could still feel the anger radiating off Kurt, and he couldn't help feeling like he'd let his stepbrother down again.
***
The house was quiet, with the rest of the family asleep. Kurt sat on the couch, knees drawn up and hugging a pillow, Nana's voice going through his mind.
You are family, Kurt, she'd said, holding his hands in hers. And you always will be. You are a very, very dear boy, and I just wish…. She'd trailed off and kissed him on the forehead, and then picked up her coat and hat. And just like that, she'd left. Like she hadn't said anything at all.
"Hi."
Kurt startled, and then relaxed as he saw Carole standing there. She was wearing flannel pants and a t-shirt, and her hair was messed up and rumpled. She was also holding two wine glasses. "Want one?" she asked, holding it out to Kurt.
"That's wine," Kurt said unnecessarily.
"Yes, and I'm your legal guardian giving it to you. I needed a glass. I thought that you might like one, too." Kurt nodded and took it from her. "I would have brought the ice cream," Carole continued, sitting down next to Kurt, "but I'm stuffed."
"I am, too."
The corner of Carole's mouth quirked up in a smile, but it didn't even come close to reaching her eyes. "How are you doing?"
The warmth of the room and her face made Kurt skip any pretense. "Just… shocked, I guess. Disappointed." He took a little sip of wine. "Exhausted."
"You look tired." She leaned her head back, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry, Kurt."
"Sorry?"
"I should have said something when they started in. I know Dot. I should have known where she was going to go."
Kurt shrugged. "My father beat you to it." He sipped his wine again. "I just don't understand. She bought me a pin and she's so nice to me and she knows I'm gay. I know she knows. And yet she…" he shook his head. "I don't know what I should even do."
"When I first found out I was pregnant with Finn…" Carole began slowly, and then stopped. "Can I ask you not to repeat any of this conversation to Finn? Ever?"
Kurt sat up a little straighter. "Of course."
"I almost had an abortion."
"Oh." That shouldn't be so shocking, but it was.
"My parents wanted me to have one. I wanted to have one. Chris and I weren't married, and we were still in college."
"Oh." Another shock- Kurt had had no idea that Carole ever had gone to college. He wasn't sure where this was going, but he trusted Carole enough to know it was going somewhere.
"Chris proposed before I could have it, and I didn't feel like I could have that abortion anymore. Not now that the baby had a father, and I had someone to help me. We got married very quickly, so of course, everyone knew why. My parents were furious." Carole laughed bitterly. "Not that it mattered much- we were never that close. But Dot was furious, too. And even moreso when she found out that I was going to get an abortion.
"We had a huge fight, eventually. She was so dead set against it. She started speaking to me again and we smoothed things over, especially once Finn was born and Chris died, but it took her years to tell her that she forgave me for even considering it. Years."
"How many years?" Kurt asked.
Carole turned to face him, and she looked like she was about to cry. "She told me she forgave me at the wedding."
"When you married Finn's dad? But I thought you said-"
"When I married your father, Kurt. That's when she finally told me that she'd forgiven me." Seventeen years later. The words weren't said out loud, but Kurt heard them.
"Why?" he asked finally. "Why did you put up with her for all those years then? Why?"
Carole shrugged and took a drink of wine before she answered. "That's when she told me she forgave me, Kurt. She actually did it a long time ago. The way she treated me, it was like a daughter. And by the time Finn was two, I knew she had, even though we never talked about it. Sometimes the words 'I'm sorry' are important. Sometimes, they're not."
"It's a lovely story, Carole," Kurt finally said, "but it's not the same thing. You didn't get the abortion, but I'm always going to be gay. And I'm not going to hide it or pretend I'm not."
"And I am in no way asking you to," Carole said firmly. "If you want, we'll do our best to minimize your contact with her."
"I don't know," Kurt said, leaning his head back against the couch. "She was just so… so kind, Carole. The first time she visited, she gave me a pin, and I thought that she really understood."
"She gave you that pin because she wanted you to be happy."
"A pin isn't what I want."
"I know."
He thought about that pin again. He'd treasured that pin- so small and delicate, perfect for so many pieces. The only person who had ever given him anything like that was Mercedes. Even his own father had avoided buying Kurt anything that might be construed as feminine, preferring to hand him the money and claim that he'd probably get it wrong if he tried to buy it himself. He thought about Finn pushing away and calling him a 'fag' just last year, and this year dancing with him in front of people.
Finn hadn't said anything tonight- Kurt hadn't let that pass unnoticed. It was his father who'd broken up that discussion. Kurt leaned forward and rested his forehead on his updrawn knees. "I don't understand any of this."
Carole tentatively touched his shoulder, and when Kurt didn't throw her off, she began to rub his back. "You don't have to decide anything tonight, Kurt," she said. "You don't have to make any final decisions at all. Ever. Play it by ear, if you want. Just tell us, and we'll help you." She slipped her arm around his shoulder, and Kurt leaned into her, letting her comfort him.
"Everything okay?"
Kurt sat bolt-upright, looking at his father with wide eyes. "We're fine," he said.
His father seemed more interested in what was in his hand. "Wine?"
"I gave it to him, Burt." Carole was quick to jump in. "It's just one glass."
"Mmm." He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press it, either. Kurt relaxed a little. "You doing all right, buddy?"
Kurt nodded. He probably should talk about this all with his father, and he felt mildly guilty that he didn't. But after talking to Carole, he was completely worn out. His father wandered into the kitchen and got a beer.
"What's everyone doing up?" Finn asked, coming into the room. "I heard Burt coming downstairs. Are we doing a midnight snack? I could really go for a turkey sandwich right now."
Carole met Kurt's eyes and they both smiled, and Kurt knew the conversation was over. The moment was gone, and a part of Kurt was glad. But he also knew he was welcome to talk about it with her at any time, and there was something immensely comforting about that.
"I could manage a turkey sandwich," his dad said from the kitchen. "Anyone else?" Finn disappeared to the kitchen like a magnet was pulling on him.
"It's almost Pavlovian," Kurt said, watching Finn disappear. "Say 'turkey' and he literally starts drooling.'"
"You know," Carole said slowly, "maybe I could eat a little something."
To Kurt's surprise, his own stomach made a noise. "I could, too. I guess I didn't eat as much as I thought at dinner."
"Come on." Carole linked her arm through his. "Let's go watch how much your father and Finn can put away." Kurt squeezed her arm in silent thanks and followed after her. He had no clear idea what he was going to do right now, but it was nice to know that his family was going to support him, whatever choice he made.
***
Between Thanksgiving and Sectionals, Carole had expected Kurt's bad mood. But after Sectionals, Finn turned downright miserable to live with. The day after the competition he was stomping around, snapping at everyone in sight. Carole avoided him for a day just to see if it would blow over, but it didn't. So on Monday night, she went up to Finn's room and picked up a controller for the video game he was playing. Fortunately, he was playing Resident Evil, so she was able to join him pretty easily.
"So what's going on, kiddo?" she asked after they'd slain an especially difficult group of zombies.
"Well, we just killed off the Las Plagas in Manjini," Finn explained. "Next we have to-"
"I meant your attitude." Finn looked down. "I want an explanation."
Finn sighed heavily and paused the game. "It's a lot of stuff. I broke up with Rachel."
"Oh." Oh. Suddenly, Carole found herself a lot more tolerant of Finn's bad mood. "What happened?"
"I don't really want to talk about it," Finn said. He started the game back up and stared moodily at the screen. Carole sighed heavily and joined back in, and they played another level in silence.
"And it's just not fair, you know?" Finn exploded suddenly.
"Rachel?"
"Well, yeah, her. But that's not what I meant. Sectionals. Sectionals wasn't fair."
"I thought the tie was very fair," Carole said evenly.
"I wasn't talking about the tie. It was that Kurt was with the Warblers. I mean, I'm happy he was singing and all, but he should have been with us, you know? Mr. Schuester was even going to give him a solo for Sectionals, and he was standing there singing backup to a guy who, okay, was a really good singer, but… he just should have been with New Directions, okay?"
Carole touched his shoulder. "I know."
"It's just not fair," Finn said again. "If Rachel and I had sung, we would have beat the Warblers and Kurt wouldn't get to go on at all- it would be over."
Okay, then. Leave it to Finn. "You have an awfully high opinion of yourself there, mister," Carole said.
Finn rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."
"I do." Carole sighed. "But unless the school board members all have a massive personality transplants by Regionals, it's going to happen again. You're going to be competing against each other."
"I know." Finn looked genuinely miserable.
"And it's perfectly possible that your brother could kick your ass."
Finn looked offended. "New Directions is going to win Regionals this year," he said. "And Kurt should be with us to do it."
Carole gave up on the who-was-going-to-win thing. "He should be." She rubbed Finn's back.
"I just feel like everything is falling apart, you know? Kurt's at Dalton, me and Rachel broke up, everybody in glee club is snapping at everybody else… everything's falling apart."
"It feels that way sometimes," Carole said. "It will all work out, Finn. Even if you two never sing in the same Glee club again, you'll always be brothers. You'll always have that connection. It will be okay, for both you and Kurt. Okay?" He nodded. "And Rachel… if it's meant to be, it will be." Not that Carole remotely believed that- she and Chris had been 'meant to be', and they weren't. And it didn't look like Finn was buying it, either. "I know it sucks," she said. "But you'll get through it, okay?"
Finn nodded.
"And any time you want to talk about it-"
"I know. Thanks, Mom."
He was closing up again. Well, he was a teenaged boy talking to his mother. Carole supposed she should count herself lucky to have gotten this much out of him. She turned back to their game. "We're done the Las Plaguie things now, right?"
"Las Plagas. Yeah."
"What do we kill next?"
Finn grinned. "Zombies. There are always more zombies to kill."
Carole sighed. "Great."
***
The bookshelf was done. Finn helped Burt bring it into the living room, and they both stood back to admire their handiwork.
"We did good," Burt said, clapping Finn on the shoulder.
"We did." Finn nodded.
He wanted a few minutes alone. Burt seemed to sense it, because he cleared his throat. "I've got to go check on some things for the garage, okay?"
Finn nodded again. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be good."
Burt squeezed Finn's shoulder and then headed out of the room. Finn rummaged through the box and came up with the urn of his father's ashes.
"Well," he said out loud, because he felt like he should say something, "guess we're here, Dad. I mean, really here. The new house is nice, and… and I hope you like the spot." He put the urn down gently on a shelf. "Burt and I built it together. I thought that would be weird, you know? I mean, he's basically my step-father. You'd think he'd be… I don't know. Weird about it. But he wasn't. He was pretty cool. Everybody's pretty cool."
He felt like there should be so much more to say. After all, so much had happened. There was a lot his dad had missed, and a lot on his mind. But that urge to talk to his dad through the urn just wasn't there right now, and for once, Finn was okay with that. Maybe he didn't have to. It wasn't like it was forgetting his dad, to talk to people who were living, right? It wasn't like his dad didn't have a place anymore in their family.
He touched the bookshelf, smiling grimly at the urn once more. Then he turned away and pulled out his phone. He needed to talk, but he needed to talk to someone who could really listen.
***
It was the phone call that did it.
"Rachel cheated on me," Finn said with absolutely no preamble.
"Excuse me?" Kurt stared at his phone, and then looked around the study room. With the charged atmosphere that midterms created, there was no way he could talk in here. He slipped out into the hall. "I'm sorry, I misheard you. It sounded like you said that Rachel cheated on you."
"That's exactly what I said," Finn said. His voice sounded funny.
"But I thought you'd broken up."
"That's why I broke up with her. She cheated on me with Puck."
"Oh." Kurt sank down into a leather chair. "What happened?"
Finn started talking, and Kurt mainly made sympathetic noises at the right times. It wasn't a long story from Finn- probably five or ten minutes, tops. But for Finn on the phone, that was an epic.
"Have you told anyone else about this?" Kurt asked when Finn finished.
"Nah. I haven't even told Mom," Finn said. "I guess I just don't want it to be over."
"Admitting it is the first step," Kurt said lightly. "Have you talked to Puck at all?"
"No. Why would I want to do that?"
"Mmm. I can't say I blame you."
"I wanted to talk to you."
It hit him like a ton of bricks and his mouth went dry. "You wanted to talk to me."
"Yeah. It's kind of a big thing, you know? I mean, me and Rachel-"
It was kind of a big thing. Not Finn and Rachel- if Kurt was completely honest, he didn't care about that all that much. It was the revelation that, even though he was settling in better here at Dalton, Kurt desperately still wanted to be home.
"I have to go," he told Finn abruptly, and hung up before Finn could even say goodbye. He punched another number into the phone, and waited impatiently while it rang.
"Hummel Tires and Lube."
"Dad? We need to talk."
"Everything okay?" his dad asked.
"Everything's fine." Kurt took a deep breath. "I'm coming home."
"What, you mean tonight?"
"No. At the end of the semester. You haven't sent the bill in for next semester, have you?"
"Nope. Not yet. To be honest, I was going to have this conversation with you when you came home this weekend."
That surprised Kurt. "Really?"
"Well, yeah. You haven't seemed like yourself since you went to Dalton. Don't get me wrong," he rushed on, "you've seemed better. I guess not having that Karofsky kid breathing down your neck makes a world of difference, huh?" Kurt nodded silently. "But you look tired all the time," his dad finally said. "You look like you've lost your spark."
"It's not quite like that," Kurt insisted, even though it was.
"Wait a minute." His dad sounded like he was having a revelation of his own. "Have you think that if you tell me you want to live at home, I'll think you can't hack it at that fancy pants boarding school?" Kurt didn't answer, and Burt snorted. "You should know better than that, Kurt. I know you can take it. You're turning that place on its ear, right?"
"Right."
"Of course you are. But if you tell me you want to come home, all I'm going to think is that I'm glad we've got you around longer before you go off to college. And it will save us a bundle, that's for certain. Might even be able to look into taking a vacation this summer, all four of us."
"Really?" Kurt was distracted from any potential guilt by that. "To Paris?"
"Don't count on it. We wouldn't be able to go to Paris if Dalton paid us. I was thinking more to Cleveland. See the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame."
"Oh." Kurt hadn't really expected Paris, but you didn't get it if you didn't try. "I don’t suppose we could go to the theater while we're there?"
"We'll look into it." Burt stood up. "Anyway, aren't you supposed to be in school?"
"It's a study period. But I should go study. Midterms are going to be intense here."
"You'll do fine. And Kurt?"
"Yes?"
"I'm glad we've got you home for one more year."
Kurt couldn't help smiling. "Me, too, Dad." He hung up the phone and looked up to see Blaine standing in front of him. "Oh. Hello."
"You look happy," Blaine said. "Good conversation?"
"It was." Kurt took a deep breath and crossed his legs, sitting up straighter. "I'm going to be living at home next semester. I mean, I'll still be here, of course," he said, all in a rush. "But I'll live at home."
"That's great." Blaine smiled at him and extended a hand. "Come on. We've got rehearsal."
It was the right decision, and Kurt knew it. He stood up and followed Blaine happily, feeling more at peace than he had since he'd come to Dalton.
***
Burt was hiding the evidence of his chip pillaging when Carole came downstairs- she could hear the hasty crumpling of the wrappers. She gave him a moment to finish, and then strolled into the kitchen as casually as she could.
"What's going on?" Carole asked as Burt said back down.
"Just paying some bills."
"Oh." Carole headed to the fridge and pulled out two light beers. He looked like he was thinking about something "Something bothering you?"
"Yeah. I got a call from the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society looking for donations," he said. "I was just trying to figure out how much I should send them."
It wasn't a statement- it was a question. The beginning of a conversation. Carole sat down. "I usually send about three hundred to a combination of charities," she said. "There's the Injured Marines Semper Fi Fund and the Children of Fallen Soldiers Relief Fund."
Burt nodded. "How would you feel about upping that? Maybe giving them two fifty each?"
Carole's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
"I usually give five hundred to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society," Burt explained. "It only seems fair."
Carole jumped out of her seat and kissed him. "Burt, that's…" she smiled, wiping at her eyes a little. "You're amazing," she said.
"So are you. You sure you're okay with this?"
"Of course." She peered closer at him. "There's something else, isn't there?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "I kind of wanted to go to the cemetery today."
"Why didn't you just go?" Carole asked, puzzled. Why didn't you ask? But she'd known why. She knew exactly why. And she should have known better, because it didn't really hurt to hear Burt ask this of her at all. "If you need to go to the cemetery or some time alone or… Burt, I don't know what you need, but I want to be able to give it to you. Just tell me."
He smiled. "I think I will head to the cemetery, if you don't mind."
"Of course." Carole smiled understandingly. "Is there anything else?"
"Not really." Burt picked up his jacket and started pulling it on, but then stopped. "Well, just one thing."
"What's that?"
He turned around to face her fully. "Just… can you tell me what you need, too? Don't be afraid it's going to hurt me or whatever to talk about it, okay? Because knowing that you understand and you're willing to help me… that's the best feeling in the world. I want to be able to do that for you, too."
Carole's eyes were wet again, but she nodded. "I will, Burt."
He leaned over and kissed her on the head. "I'll be back in a while, okay?"
"Okay."
He walked out of the house and down the sidewalk. Carole watched him go, with the feeling of a burden being lifted from her shoulders. As awkward as it was, they'd started really navigating those conversations, and she knew it could only be a good thing.
***
The clock said 6:42, and the dawn was just beginning to break outside the window. Dawn, schmawn, it was Christmas. Finn jumped out of bed, eager for the morning, even if he'd only gone to sleep five hours before.
The house was silent. Finn had no idea how everyone could still be asleep. They shouldn't be- it was Christmas morning, and even though he hadn't believed in Santa for ten years, you were never too old to be excited for Christmas morning. He grabbed his pillow from his bed and crept across the hall, opening Kurt's door quietly.
Kurt was still asleep, stretched out on his back, his mouth slightly open. Finn knew that this was going to cost him, but it was going to be so worth it. He edged up to right near the bed, got a better grip on his pillowcase, and then…
WHUMP!
"Merry Christmas!" Finn said as Kurt came awake, startled and sputtering.
"Are you a lunatic?"
"Nope. It's Christmas morning."
Kurt looked at the clock. "Barely. I thought you'd sleep until eleven."
"It's Christmas morning," Finn repeated, because seriously, Kurt was supposed to be smart.
"I can't believe you did this," Kurt said, scooting out of bed. "I don’t' suppose there's any chance of getting back to bed now." He padded out of the room, ignoring Finn. Finn stood there for a long moment, grinning. He heard the toilet flush and the sound of water running in the bathroom, and then Kurt returned.
"I hate you, you know," Kurt said conversationally, climbing back into his bed. "You are great, huge, insane-"
The last word might have been 'lummox', but Finn wasn't sure because Kurt had managed to get up on his knees and put ice cold hands (probably specifically chilled for the purpose in the bathroom) on the back of Finn's neck. Finn yelled, twisting away from Kurt. "You're insane!"
"You started it."
After that, there was only one thing to do. Finn whacked Kurt across the face with his pillow. Kurt shrieked and dove for his own pillow, and within seconds the entire thing had devolved into an epic pillow fight.
"Wait," Kurt said, gasping with laughter after one of Finn's swings had come dangerously close to a picture. "Break anything and die." Kurt beat him into the hallway, both of them laughing. Until Finn took a swing, and nearly hit his mother in the face.
"What," Carole demanded, her arms crossed, "are you two doing?"
"He started it!" Kurt said immediately.
"It's Christmas," Finn said. He was suspicious. The way his mother was leaning against the wall, the way her arms were crossed…. "You don't have-"
She did. The pillow had been behind her, and she brought it around with a hard swing so it landed right on Finn's stomach. Years of Christmas morning pillow fights had taught Finn that his mother could swing a pillow like no one else. "You're going down," he told her, and began to attack. Carole retreated, laughing and shrieking.
"Burt! Get out here! You've got a damsel in distress." No answer. "Burt! Where the hell is my white knight?"
Burt came out, yawning. "What the heck are you all doing?"
His answer, of course, was a pillow in the face.
From there it was complete chaos, somehow ending up downstairs with Kurt and Finn behind a hastily constructed fort of sofa pillows as their parents attacked. It wasn't until Kurt came up with the idea of catapulting the smaller cushions and nearly knocked over a vase that the game got stopped.
"This is insane, you know that?" Burt said, putting one of the cushions back on the sofa and collapsing onto it. He was sweaty and red in the face, breathless and laughing. "You all are nuts."
"They are," Kurt said. "We had a perfectly dignified Christmas morning that- ouch!"
"Sorry. Reflex," Carole said, pulling her pillow back to her. "I had to get one last one in." Kurt tried to retaliate, but Carole blocked it. "Give it up, kiddo. Youth and skill are no match for age and treachery"
"You're not old, Carole."
"You can stop with the flattery- I already bought your Christmas present."
Finn was stretched on the floor, using one of the sofa cushions to pillow his head. "Speaking of Christmas presents…" he began, but no one really moved for the tree. Kurt sat down next to Finn, crossing his legs neatly, and Carole replaced another cushion and cuddled up to Burt. The four of them just rested, close together and laughing.
Later there would be presents and a big breakfast, and then grandparents over for a Christmas dinner that could be tense or could be wonderful. There would be phone calls to brothers and sisters, to friends and to cousins. There would be music- Finn had a playlist at the ready¬- there would be football or It's a Wonderful Life on TV, and there would be moments when he thought about his dad or Rachel or other people that it hurt a little to think about. But right now there were just the four of them, laughing in the living room, and together.
Finn looked up at the lights of the tree, smiling. "Best. Christmas. Ever."
Author: lls_mutant
Recipient: narceus
Rating: PG to PG-13
Word Count: 18,300
Warnings: no warnings
Summary: Merging two families into one isn't always as easy as you'd think, especially when both families come with relatives, living and dead.
Author's Note: Thanks to kappamaki33 for looking this over and her advice!
To part 1
"So I take it you liked her," Carole said, settling on the couch, the phone cradled against her ear.
"She's extraordinary," Kurt said happily.
"But you didn't call and ask to talk to me just to discuss my former mother-in-law," Carole said.
"No." She could see Kurt's face changing into something more serious, even though he was miles away at Dalton. "I had a question."
"I figured. What's going on?"
Kurt hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Do you think," he finally said slowly, "that Dad would be all right if I stayed at Dalton for a weekend?"
Carole's eyebrows went up. On the one hand, Kurt could be so independent, wanting to do his own thing and often not worrying too much about permission. On the other hand, this was Burt. A lot of that teenage behavior went out of the window if he was at all worried about Burt.
"I think he'd be fine with it, honey," she said carefully. "He'll probably be happy that you're settling in there."
"You think so?" Kurt still sounded worried.
"I'm not entirely sure," Carole said, not wanting to give the final say when it wasn't her kid in question, "but I'm pretty sure he'll be fine with you asking."
"All right. Thank you, Carole." She could hear Kurt letting out a sigh of relief. She talked to him for a few minutes more, and then hung up, a little smile playing at the corner of her lips as she did so. Burt would be a little disappointed, but he would be fine with it, if Kurt was happy. Carole was just glad that he finally was.
***
"You psyched for the game tonight?" Burt asked as he sanded the wood for the bookshelf.
"Yeah." Finn sighed, and then tried to sound more enthusiastic. "No, yeah. I am. We've got a great team, and I really think we can get to the championships."
"I think you can, too," Burt said, with all the confidence in the world. "So what's bugging you?"
"Rachel's mad at me," Finn admitted.
"Oh." Burt raised his eyebrows. "Can I ask what happened?"
"You can ask, but it doesn't make any sense."
Burt nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get that. You okay?"
"I guess. At least for now. I mean, I've got football to keep my mind off it, right?"
"Right." Burt frowned.
"What's wrong?" Finn asked.
Burt smoothed the paper more slowly over the edge of the shelf. "My dad's coming to the game tonight." He glanced at Finn from the side of his eyes. "That okay with you?"
Finn shrugged. "Why wouldn't it be? Isn't it okay with you?"
"Yeah. It is. It's just…" Burt adjusted his cap. "He never came to one of Kurt's games, you know? I mean, I know Kurt didn't play long, but still. He's talking about coming to Sectionals, too."
"That's good, isn't it?" Finn asked. "Kurt will be singing at Sectionals." Burt didn't answer. "And he's come to other competitions before, right?"
"No."
"Oh." The realization washed over Finn slowly. Mr. Hummel was coming to hear him sing. Not Kurt. No wonder Burt looked pissed.
"Look," Burt said, "forget I said anything, okay? This isn't something you should be worrying about. You shouldn’t even know about it, really."
"No, it's okay," Finn said. He wondered how Kurt would feel when he saw his grandfather in the audience this time. Finn wanted to believe Kurt would just be happy- look how happy he'd gotten over that pin that Nana had given him- but Finn suspected that Kurt would put the pieces together. From the way Burt talked, it sounded like this weird, quiet rejection by Kurt's grandfather had been going on for a long time. And Finn knew how that felt. His mom's parents hardly talked to them. It sucked.
"You know what?" he said carefully. "Mr. Schuester's giving solos to some of the other kids this time, like Quinn and Sam and Santana. Me and Rachel aren't singing them."
"Yeah?" Burt glanced at him. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah. I'm just going to be swaying in the background." Finn faked a laugh. "I think it's kind of crazy- if you want to win you put your best players in the starting lineup, right? But that's what's happening."
"I didn’t know that," Burt repeated. He smiled. "Thanks for telling me."
"No problem." Finn looked at him. "You're still gonna come, right?"
"I'd come if you and Kurt were just tapping your feet," Burt said. "But I think it might put my dad off."
It was a strange thing, and Finn hoped he had done the right thing by telling Burt that. After all, maybe if Mr. Hummel came to Sectionals, he'd get how much Kurt loved Glee and stuff. Or maybe not, judging by the way Burt was smiling, like he was glad to have a reason that Mr. Hummel couldn't come. Because yeah, if Mr. Hummel started in on Kurt's range or something, or comparing him to Finn- especially if Kurt didn't get a solo- it would be worse than if he'd never come at all.
"I think we've got this about done," Burt said. Together they hoisted the shelf up to a standing position and stood back to admire their handwork. "Looks good," Burt said approvingly. "All we have to do now is paint it. And this is a good weekend to do it without Kurt around to complain we're using eggshell instead of white."
Finn laughed, but then caught himself. "Wait, there's a difference?"
"I know, right?" Burt clapped Finn on the shoulder. "We'll do it tomorrow. Right now, you'd better go get ready for your game."
"Yeah."
"And Finn? Thanks."
Finn nodded. He wasn't sure he understood what had just happened completely, but he was sure that somewhere in there, he'd said he right thing.
***
Kurt would never say the weekend at Dalton was bad. Blaine had spent a lot of time with him, not just because this was the first weekend Kurt could spend at Dalton and he was being nice, but because Blaine wanted to. Kurt knew he was more than capable of making things up in his head, but he'd been careful enough with Blaine to know that Blaine was the one suggesting things for them to do, and that Blaine really did want to spend time with him. Blaine even managed to smooth over the disaster that was his Sectionals audition (Kurt still didn't quite understand where he'd gone wrong, but Blaine assured him he'd get it eventually.) So it was a good weekend.
Blaine had spent time with other people, too, leaving Kurt on his own. Which turned out to be fine, because all of the Warblers were friendly. Kurt had eaten lunch with Nick and Jeff, and David had offered to tutor him in math to get him caught up. And Kurt's lab partner, who couldn't sing a note but who was a good guy, invited Kurt to go to the movies with him and some friends. (Kurt had refused, but only because they were going to see Due Date. No. Just… no.) He'd had a good weekend- he really had.
He was sitting at his desk in his room on Sunday night when the phone rang. Kurt glanced at the caller ID, and then answered it immediately. "You do know I don't deliver pizza."
"Ha ha. I can't call to say hello?" Finn said through a mouthful of something.
"No, you can. I'm just surprised that you knew that the phone was used for something other than ordering takeout or delivery."
"Yeah. Rachel explained it to me," Finn said in a voice that Kurt couldn't tell if he was making an ironic joke or absolutely serious. The first seemed out of character, but the second was just too terrifying to be believed. "So what's up?"
"I don't know. You called me." Kurt sat back in his desk chair, stretching. He still had at least two hours of reading to go. "Why are you calling me, anyway?"
"I was complaining I hadn't talked to you in a while," Finn said. "And Mercedes and Rachel started lecturing about the phone, and that I could just pick up and call. I tried to explain that guys don't talk on the phone, but then they asked me if I remembered who exactly you were."
"They have a point," Kurt said dryly.
"Yeah, but that means you could have picked up the phone and called."
"Mmm." Kurt fell silent for that one.
"So how is Dalton, anyway?" Finn asked cautiously. "Everything going okay?"
"Everything's fine." Given how upset Finn had been about Kurt even coming here, Kurt wasn't sure how much Finn wanted to hear. He looked at the picture on the desk of him and Finn, the one of them in their tuxes at the wedding. They looked relaxed and happy there. Even when he was home, it was easy to talk to Finn. So why was there so much silence between them on the phone? "How are Dad and Carole?" Kurt asked, more just to say something.
"They're fine," Finn said. "They went out. Oh, and Burt finally told me about his secret stash of chips he thinks we all don't know about." Both of them laughed, but the conversation petered out again. In the silence, Kurt could hear Finn chewing, and even fainter, something on the TV.
"What are you watching?"
"Oh. There's not much on, but I was surfing and- you're going to think this is nuts."
"Oh, good. Blackmail. Tell me."
"Did you ever see American Tail?"
Kurt sat up straighter. "I loved that movie when I was a kid!"
"Yeah? Me, too. My mom picked it up for, like, a buck, and I had a month where I watched it almost every day."
"I must have watched it for two or three," Kurt remembered. "Did it age well?"
"Not really. The voices are really shrill, especially on the song."
"Oh, I remember that song," Kurt sighed wistfully. "Somewhere out there…"
"Dude, you are not singing on the phone."
Kurt smirked. "Beneath the pale moonlight," he continued, more to annoy Finn than anything else, and deliberately cracking the high note. "Someone's thinking of me and loving me tonight. Come on, Finn, you know you can't-"
"Somewhere out there, someone's saying a prayer," Finn sang back before Kurt could even finish mocking him. "That we'll find one another in that big somewhere out there."
"And even though we know how very far apart we are, it helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star."
"And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby, it helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky."
They burst into the last lyrics together, no longer squeaking and mocking, but singing the song to the best of their abilities. "Somewhere out there, if love can see us through, then we'll be together. Somewhere out there, out where dreams come true."
Their voices faded out, and Kurt had to admit they had sounded really, really good together. But then the reality of what they had just done hit him, at the same time it hit Finn.
"Dude," Finn said, "did we just sing each other 'Somewhere, Out There' over the phone?"
"Oh my god. We did." Kurt was torn between mortification and amusement. "We should never speak of this again."
"Yeah. Totally." Finn was laughing. "You know, we sounded really good, though. We should sing that at Sectionals."
"We should," Kurt agreed, and then they both stopped because they both remembered that they would be singing against each other at Sectionals. "Oh," Kurt said quietly.
"Yeah," Finn said.
"Let's not talk about that," Kurt said. He dove into the first question he could think of. "How's Rachel?"
That got Finn talking, and they got off the subject, Finn droning on as Kurt made "mm-hmm" noises at appropriate intervals. They talked for fifteen minutes more, until Finn must have decided he'd done his brotherly duty and they said goodnight. It seemed silly, but as Kurt hung up the phone, he thought the room seemed a lot quieter than it had before.
He stood up and walked over to his window, looking out over the lit paths on Dalton's small campus. The sun had fully set and the sky was dark, and when he looked up he could see a star. A bright star. He stood staring at it, and as he watched it twinkle, he couldn't help smiling.
The thing about Dalton was that it was a fresh start. And someday, Kurt really wanted that- a fresh start in a place where people wouldn't judge him based solely on provincial, back-water, hick-town standards of normalcy. But he'd wanted to make that start on his own terms, with his own timing. Not to have it forced on him by some ham-fisted bully who was so far in the closet that he could be a clothes hanger. (If Karofsky even knew what clothes hangers were. Kurt had his doubts.) Kurt ran his fingers over the edge of his phone. Dalton was great, but he didn't have those deep connections. They were friendly, but they were friendly because Kurt was human, not because Kurt was Kurt. He'd earned those friendships back with New Directions, as rocky as some of them might be, and he'd earned his brotherhood with Finn most of all.
If he was home right now, he'd probably be fighting with Finn, or doing his own homework up in his room. It wasn't like he and Finn would be having all of the magical bonding moments that Kurt had once imagined. He knew that. He'd grown up enough to acknowledge that. But that didn't mean he still missed it. He looked up at the sky one last time and shook his head. He was being ridiculous, staring at stars.
He had no idea that, back in Lima, Finn was doing the same thing.
***
"It's going to be a disaster," Kurt predicted. "Your Nana is going to meet my grandfather, they're going to exchange war stories and then fall in love, and they're going to get married and it's going to put us on some talk show." They were both sitting on their knees on the couch, peering out the windows at the driveway.
"First, my nana is, like, twenty years older than your grandpa," Finn said. "Second, I think Nana's got better taste than- oops." Kurt was staring at him strangely. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"No, I quite agree," Kurt said. "I just didn't expect you to agree with that. Don't you get along with my grandfather?"
"We get along okay," Finn said. "I guess. But he is kind of a jerk."
"Kind of." Kurt rolled his eyes and leaned on his elbows, looking out the window again. "He's a complete and utter homophobic ass who has refused to be seen in public with me for the past five years. Dad's tried to keep it from me, but even he can't hide that."
"Oh." Finn hadn't realized how clearly Kurt saw the situation. Fortunately, a car pulled up and ended the conversation.
They made it through all the hellos, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, and the first football game with no incident whatsoever. The two grandparents were civil to each other, but there were no obvious sparks. Kurt spent a lot of the morning helping Carole in the kitchen, and Finn sat out in the family room with Burt and the grandparents, talking about football and happily commenting on the games that were happening that afternoon. It was dinner that was the disaster.
It started out innocently enough, with Kurt poking his head out of the kitchen and calling for Burt to come handle the gravy.
"The gravy?" Mr. Hummel asked, furrowing his brow. "What do they need your help with for the gravy?"
"Burt makes great gravy," Finn said enthusiastically. "No lumps or anything. My mom's always has lumps."
Nana nudged Finn's ankle with her toe. "I'm sure it's better than what you know how to make," she teased.
"Of course it is," Mr. Hummel said. "Finn doesn't make gravy. The only thing men should have to do with the dinner is carving the turkey."
Finn frowned. "Look, I love my mom, but you haven't tasted her gravy compared to Burt's. And Kurt's been in the kitchen the whole day."
"Yeah, well, that's Kurt." Mr. Hummel sat back with a scowl. Finn glanced over at Nana for her reaction, but she was looking at the TV remote with a frown.
"We should turn it up," she suggested, doing so. Then there was a particularly exciting play that had two of them cheering and one swearing at the screen, so the conversation went by the wayside.
It got picked up again when Carole came out into the living room. "Dinner is served," she said, smiling and gesturing towards the dining room table. Finn managed to restrain himself from running out, because Thanksgiving dinner? Definitely one of the highlights of the year. And when he got to the table, the food smelled amazing.
Kurt appeared beside him wearing oven mitts and holding a casserole dish. "I made twice-baked sweet potatoes, just for you," he told Finn, brandishing the dish. "To show you the extent of my brotherly devotion, I used full fat sour cream, a stick of butter, brown sugar, toasted pecans, and marshmallows. The fat content alone should kill you, but you'll die with heaven on your tongue, courtesy of Martha Stewart and myself."
"I love you," Finn said, staring at the perfectly browned marshmallows that topped the potatoes that had been stuffed back into their shell. Because really, when presented with something that smelled that good, what else could you say?
Kurt did that weird thing he did with his head when he was acting all prim and proper and trying not to show that he was incredibly pleased with himself and put the casserole dish on the table. Finn sat down next to him, and after a short grace, they all started passing the food. Finn was so busy on loading up his plate that he barely listened to the conversation.
By the time he tuned back in, the adults were talking about the recent elections for governor. Finn had only barely followed them (and only because they were covering it in Current Events), but apparently Nana and Mr. Hummel had very different ideas.
"I'm surprised you didn't vote for Strickland," Mr. Hummel was saying. "After everything he did for vets? I don't know about you, but I sure appreciated him making my retirement tax-free."
"I do appreciate that," Nana acknowledged, cutting her turkey neatly. "But he has other ideas I don't agree with. I'm sure you can understand that."
"Oh. You're one of them," Mr. Hummel said disapprovingly, and Finn assumed that Mr. Hummel meant liberals or democrats or something.
"One of whom?" Nana asked.
"One of them Catholics."
Oh. Oh, wait. This wasn't going to be good. Nana was offended, Finn could see it in her posture. "Yes," she said. "I'm Catholic. What, pray tell, is so terribly wrong with that?"
"You people have a funny way of forgetting the whole separation of church and state thing."
"I hardly see it that way."
"Yeah, and that's the problem. Take that marriage amendment, for example." Finn had to think which one Mr. Hummel meant and if it was meant to ban or legalize gay marriage, because the national one had been, like, ages ago.
Nana glanced at Kurt. "I hardly think that that's an appropriate thing to argue about right now and-"
Mr. Hummel overrode her. "I'm not saying I agree with it, okay? The idea of fags and- excuse me, language, right Burt?" He rolled his eyes as Burt turned red with anger. "The idea of men marrying men and women marrying women isn't right. But the idea of changing the Constitution to take away the rights of Americans sickens me even more. That's not what this country's ever been about."
That shocked Finn down to his toes, and Kurt must have felt the same, because when Finn looked at him, his face was white. Nana glanced at Kurt as well. "This is not the place-" she began again.
"Bet you would have been in line for Prohibition, too," Mr. Hummel said. "And look how well that worked out! Ha!"
"Prohibition was also meant to protect people," Nana said primly.
Mr. Hummel snorted. "Yeah, protecting. That's what they told us when they sent us those draft notices and said, 'leave your wife and kids and come die for some bullshit.' I've had my rights taken away from me, lady, and no one should have that happen. The day we do that is the day the Communists start winning."
"Enough!" Burt shouted. "That's enough of this conversation!" And to Finn's surprise, he wasn't just glaring at Mr. Hummel, but at Nana, too. It was when he realized that Burt was red with anger why Kurt was so white. Kurt wasn't shocked at his grandfather, but because Nana…. The realization washed over Finn like a wave. Nana didn't believe in gay marriage.
Oh. Whoa.
Burt's color was returning to normal. "That's enough, all right?" he said, sitting back down at his place. "No more political talk. This is a family dinner."
"Right."
Mr. Hummel didn't seem bothered, but Nana seemed distressed. She reached over and patted Kurt's hand. Kurt sat frozen, his face still stiff with shock. "Kurt, sweetheart, you are a very lovely, very sweet boy. Please don't think that I would ever think anything else, all right?"
Kurt opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Finn felt terrible for him. You are thinking something else, he wanted to say, and maybe if it had been anyone else, he would have. But this was his grandmother, and you didn't talk back to your grandmother.
"Good," Burt practically snarled. "Good. Now let's act like the family we are and not be tearing each other down at the Thanksgiving table."
"You obviously don't remember Thanksgiving at our house," Mr. Hummel muttered, but he obligingly changed the subject. "Cincinatti Bengals are playing the Jets tonight. What do you think their chances are, Finn?"
Finn sat up straight at the sound of his own name, "I think the Bengals have a chance," he said, starting to eat again. He started arguing companionably with Mr. Hummel about the game scheduled for tonight, and after a bit, Burt and Nana joined in, and even his mother added a comment or two. It felt like it was smoothed over, but beside Finn, he could still feel the anger radiating off Kurt, and he couldn't help feeling like he'd let his stepbrother down again.
***
The house was quiet, with the rest of the family asleep. Kurt sat on the couch, knees drawn up and hugging a pillow, Nana's voice going through his mind.
You are family, Kurt, she'd said, holding his hands in hers. And you always will be. You are a very, very dear boy, and I just wish…. She'd trailed off and kissed him on the forehead, and then picked up her coat and hat. And just like that, she'd left. Like she hadn't said anything at all.
"Hi."
Kurt startled, and then relaxed as he saw Carole standing there. She was wearing flannel pants and a t-shirt, and her hair was messed up and rumpled. She was also holding two wine glasses. "Want one?" she asked, holding it out to Kurt.
"That's wine," Kurt said unnecessarily.
"Yes, and I'm your legal guardian giving it to you. I needed a glass. I thought that you might like one, too." Kurt nodded and took it from her. "I would have brought the ice cream," Carole continued, sitting down next to Kurt, "but I'm stuffed."
"I am, too."
The corner of Carole's mouth quirked up in a smile, but it didn't even come close to reaching her eyes. "How are you doing?"
The warmth of the room and her face made Kurt skip any pretense. "Just… shocked, I guess. Disappointed." He took a little sip of wine. "Exhausted."
"You look tired." She leaned her head back, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry, Kurt."
"Sorry?"
"I should have said something when they started in. I know Dot. I should have known where she was going to go."
Kurt shrugged. "My father beat you to it." He sipped his wine again. "I just don't understand. She bought me a pin and she's so nice to me and she knows I'm gay. I know she knows. And yet she…" he shook his head. "I don't know what I should even do."
"When I first found out I was pregnant with Finn…" Carole began slowly, and then stopped. "Can I ask you not to repeat any of this conversation to Finn? Ever?"
Kurt sat up a little straighter. "Of course."
"I almost had an abortion."
"Oh." That shouldn't be so shocking, but it was.
"My parents wanted me to have one. I wanted to have one. Chris and I weren't married, and we were still in college."
"Oh." Another shock- Kurt had had no idea that Carole ever had gone to college. He wasn't sure where this was going, but he trusted Carole enough to know it was going somewhere.
"Chris proposed before I could have it, and I didn't feel like I could have that abortion anymore. Not now that the baby had a father, and I had someone to help me. We got married very quickly, so of course, everyone knew why. My parents were furious." Carole laughed bitterly. "Not that it mattered much- we were never that close. But Dot was furious, too. And even moreso when she found out that I was going to get an abortion.
"We had a huge fight, eventually. She was so dead set against it. She started speaking to me again and we smoothed things over, especially once Finn was born and Chris died, but it took her years to tell her that she forgave me for even considering it. Years."
"How many years?" Kurt asked.
Carole turned to face him, and she looked like she was about to cry. "She told me she forgave me at the wedding."
"When you married Finn's dad? But I thought you said-"
"When I married your father, Kurt. That's when she finally told me that she'd forgiven me." Seventeen years later. The words weren't said out loud, but Kurt heard them.
"Why?" he asked finally. "Why did you put up with her for all those years then? Why?"
Carole shrugged and took a drink of wine before she answered. "That's when she told me she forgave me, Kurt. She actually did it a long time ago. The way she treated me, it was like a daughter. And by the time Finn was two, I knew she had, even though we never talked about it. Sometimes the words 'I'm sorry' are important. Sometimes, they're not."
"It's a lovely story, Carole," Kurt finally said, "but it's not the same thing. You didn't get the abortion, but I'm always going to be gay. And I'm not going to hide it or pretend I'm not."
"And I am in no way asking you to," Carole said firmly. "If you want, we'll do our best to minimize your contact with her."
"I don't know," Kurt said, leaning his head back against the couch. "She was just so… so kind, Carole. The first time she visited, she gave me a pin, and I thought that she really understood."
"She gave you that pin because she wanted you to be happy."
"A pin isn't what I want."
"I know."
He thought about that pin again. He'd treasured that pin- so small and delicate, perfect for so many pieces. The only person who had ever given him anything like that was Mercedes. Even his own father had avoided buying Kurt anything that might be construed as feminine, preferring to hand him the money and claim that he'd probably get it wrong if he tried to buy it himself. He thought about Finn pushing away and calling him a 'fag' just last year, and this year dancing with him in front of people.
Finn hadn't said anything tonight- Kurt hadn't let that pass unnoticed. It was his father who'd broken up that discussion. Kurt leaned forward and rested his forehead on his updrawn knees. "I don't understand any of this."
Carole tentatively touched his shoulder, and when Kurt didn't throw her off, she began to rub his back. "You don't have to decide anything tonight, Kurt," she said. "You don't have to make any final decisions at all. Ever. Play it by ear, if you want. Just tell us, and we'll help you." She slipped her arm around his shoulder, and Kurt leaned into her, letting her comfort him.
"Everything okay?"
Kurt sat bolt-upright, looking at his father with wide eyes. "We're fine," he said.
His father seemed more interested in what was in his hand. "Wine?"
"I gave it to him, Burt." Carole was quick to jump in. "It's just one glass."
"Mmm." He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press it, either. Kurt relaxed a little. "You doing all right, buddy?"
Kurt nodded. He probably should talk about this all with his father, and he felt mildly guilty that he didn't. But after talking to Carole, he was completely worn out. His father wandered into the kitchen and got a beer.
"What's everyone doing up?" Finn asked, coming into the room. "I heard Burt coming downstairs. Are we doing a midnight snack? I could really go for a turkey sandwich right now."
Carole met Kurt's eyes and they both smiled, and Kurt knew the conversation was over. The moment was gone, and a part of Kurt was glad. But he also knew he was welcome to talk about it with her at any time, and there was something immensely comforting about that.
"I could manage a turkey sandwich," his dad said from the kitchen. "Anyone else?" Finn disappeared to the kitchen like a magnet was pulling on him.
"It's almost Pavlovian," Kurt said, watching Finn disappear. "Say 'turkey' and he literally starts drooling.'"
"You know," Carole said slowly, "maybe I could eat a little something."
To Kurt's surprise, his own stomach made a noise. "I could, too. I guess I didn't eat as much as I thought at dinner."
"Come on." Carole linked her arm through his. "Let's go watch how much your father and Finn can put away." Kurt squeezed her arm in silent thanks and followed after her. He had no clear idea what he was going to do right now, but it was nice to know that his family was going to support him, whatever choice he made.
***
Between Thanksgiving and Sectionals, Carole had expected Kurt's bad mood. But after Sectionals, Finn turned downright miserable to live with. The day after the competition he was stomping around, snapping at everyone in sight. Carole avoided him for a day just to see if it would blow over, but it didn't. So on Monday night, she went up to Finn's room and picked up a controller for the video game he was playing. Fortunately, he was playing Resident Evil, so she was able to join him pretty easily.
"So what's going on, kiddo?" she asked after they'd slain an especially difficult group of zombies.
"Well, we just killed off the Las Plagas in Manjini," Finn explained. "Next we have to-"
"I meant your attitude." Finn looked down. "I want an explanation."
Finn sighed heavily and paused the game. "It's a lot of stuff. I broke up with Rachel."
"Oh." Oh. Suddenly, Carole found herself a lot more tolerant of Finn's bad mood. "What happened?"
"I don't really want to talk about it," Finn said. He started the game back up and stared moodily at the screen. Carole sighed heavily and joined back in, and they played another level in silence.
"And it's just not fair, you know?" Finn exploded suddenly.
"Rachel?"
"Well, yeah, her. But that's not what I meant. Sectionals. Sectionals wasn't fair."
"I thought the tie was very fair," Carole said evenly.
"I wasn't talking about the tie. It was that Kurt was with the Warblers. I mean, I'm happy he was singing and all, but he should have been with us, you know? Mr. Schuester was even going to give him a solo for Sectionals, and he was standing there singing backup to a guy who, okay, was a really good singer, but… he just should have been with New Directions, okay?"
Carole touched his shoulder. "I know."
"It's just not fair," Finn said again. "If Rachel and I had sung, we would have beat the Warblers and Kurt wouldn't get to go on at all- it would be over."
Okay, then. Leave it to Finn. "You have an awfully high opinion of yourself there, mister," Carole said.
Finn rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."
"I do." Carole sighed. "But unless the school board members all have a massive personality transplants by Regionals, it's going to happen again. You're going to be competing against each other."
"I know." Finn looked genuinely miserable.
"And it's perfectly possible that your brother could kick your ass."
Finn looked offended. "New Directions is going to win Regionals this year," he said. "And Kurt should be with us to do it."
Carole gave up on the who-was-going-to-win thing. "He should be." She rubbed Finn's back.
"I just feel like everything is falling apart, you know? Kurt's at Dalton, me and Rachel broke up, everybody in glee club is snapping at everybody else… everything's falling apart."
"It feels that way sometimes," Carole said. "It will all work out, Finn. Even if you two never sing in the same Glee club again, you'll always be brothers. You'll always have that connection. It will be okay, for both you and Kurt. Okay?" He nodded. "And Rachel… if it's meant to be, it will be." Not that Carole remotely believed that- she and Chris had been 'meant to be', and they weren't. And it didn't look like Finn was buying it, either. "I know it sucks," she said. "But you'll get through it, okay?"
Finn nodded.
"And any time you want to talk about it-"
"I know. Thanks, Mom."
He was closing up again. Well, he was a teenaged boy talking to his mother. Carole supposed she should count herself lucky to have gotten this much out of him. She turned back to their game. "We're done the Las Plaguie things now, right?"
"Las Plagas. Yeah."
"What do we kill next?"
Finn grinned. "Zombies. There are always more zombies to kill."
Carole sighed. "Great."
***
The bookshelf was done. Finn helped Burt bring it into the living room, and they both stood back to admire their handiwork.
"We did good," Burt said, clapping Finn on the shoulder.
"We did." Finn nodded.
He wanted a few minutes alone. Burt seemed to sense it, because he cleared his throat. "I've got to go check on some things for the garage, okay?"
Finn nodded again. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be good."
Burt squeezed Finn's shoulder and then headed out of the room. Finn rummaged through the box and came up with the urn of his father's ashes.
"Well," he said out loud, because he felt like he should say something, "guess we're here, Dad. I mean, really here. The new house is nice, and… and I hope you like the spot." He put the urn down gently on a shelf. "Burt and I built it together. I thought that would be weird, you know? I mean, he's basically my step-father. You'd think he'd be… I don't know. Weird about it. But he wasn't. He was pretty cool. Everybody's pretty cool."
He felt like there should be so much more to say. After all, so much had happened. There was a lot his dad had missed, and a lot on his mind. But that urge to talk to his dad through the urn just wasn't there right now, and for once, Finn was okay with that. Maybe he didn't have to. It wasn't like it was forgetting his dad, to talk to people who were living, right? It wasn't like his dad didn't have a place anymore in their family.
He touched the bookshelf, smiling grimly at the urn once more. Then he turned away and pulled out his phone. He needed to talk, but he needed to talk to someone who could really listen.
***
It was the phone call that did it.
"Rachel cheated on me," Finn said with absolutely no preamble.
"Excuse me?" Kurt stared at his phone, and then looked around the study room. With the charged atmosphere that midterms created, there was no way he could talk in here. He slipped out into the hall. "I'm sorry, I misheard you. It sounded like you said that Rachel cheated on you."
"That's exactly what I said," Finn said. His voice sounded funny.
"But I thought you'd broken up."
"That's why I broke up with her. She cheated on me with Puck."
"Oh." Kurt sank down into a leather chair. "What happened?"
Finn started talking, and Kurt mainly made sympathetic noises at the right times. It wasn't a long story from Finn- probably five or ten minutes, tops. But for Finn on the phone, that was an epic.
"Have you told anyone else about this?" Kurt asked when Finn finished.
"Nah. I haven't even told Mom," Finn said. "I guess I just don't want it to be over."
"Admitting it is the first step," Kurt said lightly. "Have you talked to Puck at all?"
"No. Why would I want to do that?"
"Mmm. I can't say I blame you."
"I wanted to talk to you."
It hit him like a ton of bricks and his mouth went dry. "You wanted to talk to me."
"Yeah. It's kind of a big thing, you know? I mean, me and Rachel-"
It was kind of a big thing. Not Finn and Rachel- if Kurt was completely honest, he didn't care about that all that much. It was the revelation that, even though he was settling in better here at Dalton, Kurt desperately still wanted to be home.
"I have to go," he told Finn abruptly, and hung up before Finn could even say goodbye. He punched another number into the phone, and waited impatiently while it rang.
"Hummel Tires and Lube."
"Dad? We need to talk."
"Everything okay?" his dad asked.
"Everything's fine." Kurt took a deep breath. "I'm coming home."
"What, you mean tonight?"
"No. At the end of the semester. You haven't sent the bill in for next semester, have you?"
"Nope. Not yet. To be honest, I was going to have this conversation with you when you came home this weekend."
That surprised Kurt. "Really?"
"Well, yeah. You haven't seemed like yourself since you went to Dalton. Don't get me wrong," he rushed on, "you've seemed better. I guess not having that Karofsky kid breathing down your neck makes a world of difference, huh?" Kurt nodded silently. "But you look tired all the time," his dad finally said. "You look like you've lost your spark."
"It's not quite like that," Kurt insisted, even though it was.
"Wait a minute." His dad sounded like he was having a revelation of his own. "Have you think that if you tell me you want to live at home, I'll think you can't hack it at that fancy pants boarding school?" Kurt didn't answer, and Burt snorted. "You should know better than that, Kurt. I know you can take it. You're turning that place on its ear, right?"
"Right."
"Of course you are. But if you tell me you want to come home, all I'm going to think is that I'm glad we've got you around longer before you go off to college. And it will save us a bundle, that's for certain. Might even be able to look into taking a vacation this summer, all four of us."
"Really?" Kurt was distracted from any potential guilt by that. "To Paris?"
"Don't count on it. We wouldn't be able to go to Paris if Dalton paid us. I was thinking more to Cleveland. See the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame."
"Oh." Kurt hadn't really expected Paris, but you didn't get it if you didn't try. "I don’t suppose we could go to the theater while we're there?"
"We'll look into it." Burt stood up. "Anyway, aren't you supposed to be in school?"
"It's a study period. But I should go study. Midterms are going to be intense here."
"You'll do fine. And Kurt?"
"Yes?"
"I'm glad we've got you home for one more year."
Kurt couldn't help smiling. "Me, too, Dad." He hung up the phone and looked up to see Blaine standing in front of him. "Oh. Hello."
"You look happy," Blaine said. "Good conversation?"
"It was." Kurt took a deep breath and crossed his legs, sitting up straighter. "I'm going to be living at home next semester. I mean, I'll still be here, of course," he said, all in a rush. "But I'll live at home."
"That's great." Blaine smiled at him and extended a hand. "Come on. We've got rehearsal."
It was the right decision, and Kurt knew it. He stood up and followed Blaine happily, feeling more at peace than he had since he'd come to Dalton.
***
Burt was hiding the evidence of his chip pillaging when Carole came downstairs- she could hear the hasty crumpling of the wrappers. She gave him a moment to finish, and then strolled into the kitchen as casually as she could.
"What's going on?" Carole asked as Burt said back down.
"Just paying some bills."
"Oh." Carole headed to the fridge and pulled out two light beers. He looked like he was thinking about something "Something bothering you?"
"Yeah. I got a call from the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society looking for donations," he said. "I was just trying to figure out how much I should send them."
It wasn't a statement- it was a question. The beginning of a conversation. Carole sat down. "I usually send about three hundred to a combination of charities," she said. "There's the Injured Marines Semper Fi Fund and the Children of Fallen Soldiers Relief Fund."
Burt nodded. "How would you feel about upping that? Maybe giving them two fifty each?"
Carole's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
"I usually give five hundred to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society," Burt explained. "It only seems fair."
Carole jumped out of her seat and kissed him. "Burt, that's…" she smiled, wiping at her eyes a little. "You're amazing," she said.
"So are you. You sure you're okay with this?"
"Of course." She peered closer at him. "There's something else, isn't there?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "I kind of wanted to go to the cemetery today."
"Why didn't you just go?" Carole asked, puzzled. Why didn't you ask? But she'd known why. She knew exactly why. And she should have known better, because it didn't really hurt to hear Burt ask this of her at all. "If you need to go to the cemetery or some time alone or… Burt, I don't know what you need, but I want to be able to give it to you. Just tell me."
He smiled. "I think I will head to the cemetery, if you don't mind."
"Of course." Carole smiled understandingly. "Is there anything else?"
"Not really." Burt picked up his jacket and started pulling it on, but then stopped. "Well, just one thing."
"What's that?"
He turned around to face her fully. "Just… can you tell me what you need, too? Don't be afraid it's going to hurt me or whatever to talk about it, okay? Because knowing that you understand and you're willing to help me… that's the best feeling in the world. I want to be able to do that for you, too."
Carole's eyes were wet again, but she nodded. "I will, Burt."
He leaned over and kissed her on the head. "I'll be back in a while, okay?"
"Okay."
He walked out of the house and down the sidewalk. Carole watched him go, with the feeling of a burden being lifted from her shoulders. As awkward as it was, they'd started really navigating those conversations, and she knew it could only be a good thing.
***
The clock said 6:42, and the dawn was just beginning to break outside the window. Dawn, schmawn, it was Christmas. Finn jumped out of bed, eager for the morning, even if he'd only gone to sleep five hours before.
The house was silent. Finn had no idea how everyone could still be asleep. They shouldn't be- it was Christmas morning, and even though he hadn't believed in Santa for ten years, you were never too old to be excited for Christmas morning. He grabbed his pillow from his bed and crept across the hall, opening Kurt's door quietly.
Kurt was still asleep, stretched out on his back, his mouth slightly open. Finn knew that this was going to cost him, but it was going to be so worth it. He edged up to right near the bed, got a better grip on his pillowcase, and then…
WHUMP!
"Merry Christmas!" Finn said as Kurt came awake, startled and sputtering.
"Are you a lunatic?"
"Nope. It's Christmas morning."
Kurt looked at the clock. "Barely. I thought you'd sleep until eleven."
"It's Christmas morning," Finn repeated, because seriously, Kurt was supposed to be smart.
"I can't believe you did this," Kurt said, scooting out of bed. "I don’t' suppose there's any chance of getting back to bed now." He padded out of the room, ignoring Finn. Finn stood there for a long moment, grinning. He heard the toilet flush and the sound of water running in the bathroom, and then Kurt returned.
"I hate you, you know," Kurt said conversationally, climbing back into his bed. "You are great, huge, insane-"
The last word might have been 'lummox', but Finn wasn't sure because Kurt had managed to get up on his knees and put ice cold hands (probably specifically chilled for the purpose in the bathroom) on the back of Finn's neck. Finn yelled, twisting away from Kurt. "You're insane!"
"You started it."
After that, there was only one thing to do. Finn whacked Kurt across the face with his pillow. Kurt shrieked and dove for his own pillow, and within seconds the entire thing had devolved into an epic pillow fight.
"Wait," Kurt said, gasping with laughter after one of Finn's swings had come dangerously close to a picture. "Break anything and die." Kurt beat him into the hallway, both of them laughing. Until Finn took a swing, and nearly hit his mother in the face.
"What," Carole demanded, her arms crossed, "are you two doing?"
"He started it!" Kurt said immediately.
"It's Christmas," Finn said. He was suspicious. The way his mother was leaning against the wall, the way her arms were crossed…. "You don't have-"
She did. The pillow had been behind her, and she brought it around with a hard swing so it landed right on Finn's stomach. Years of Christmas morning pillow fights had taught Finn that his mother could swing a pillow like no one else. "You're going down," he told her, and began to attack. Carole retreated, laughing and shrieking.
"Burt! Get out here! You've got a damsel in distress." No answer. "Burt! Where the hell is my white knight?"
Burt came out, yawning. "What the heck are you all doing?"
His answer, of course, was a pillow in the face.
From there it was complete chaos, somehow ending up downstairs with Kurt and Finn behind a hastily constructed fort of sofa pillows as their parents attacked. It wasn't until Kurt came up with the idea of catapulting the smaller cushions and nearly knocked over a vase that the game got stopped.
"This is insane, you know that?" Burt said, putting one of the cushions back on the sofa and collapsing onto it. He was sweaty and red in the face, breathless and laughing. "You all are nuts."
"They are," Kurt said. "We had a perfectly dignified Christmas morning that- ouch!"
"Sorry. Reflex," Carole said, pulling her pillow back to her. "I had to get one last one in." Kurt tried to retaliate, but Carole blocked it. "Give it up, kiddo. Youth and skill are no match for age and treachery"
"You're not old, Carole."
"You can stop with the flattery- I already bought your Christmas present."
Finn was stretched on the floor, using one of the sofa cushions to pillow his head. "Speaking of Christmas presents…" he began, but no one really moved for the tree. Kurt sat down next to Finn, crossing his legs neatly, and Carole replaced another cushion and cuddled up to Burt. The four of them just rested, close together and laughing.
Later there would be presents and a big breakfast, and then grandparents over for a Christmas dinner that could be tense or could be wonderful. There would be phone calls to brothers and sisters, to friends and to cousins. There would be music- Finn had a playlist at the ready¬- there would be football or It's a Wonderful Life on TV, and there would be moments when he thought about his dad or Rachel or other people that it hurt a little to think about. But right now there were just the four of them, laughing in the living room, and together.
Finn looked up at the lights of the tree, smiling. "Best. Christmas. Ever."