Home Part 3-A
Spoilers: Up to 2.22
Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, ableism, homophobia, physical abuse by a caretaker, a smidgen of Stockholm's, serious injury, tertiary character death.
Rating: R
Word Count: Whole fic: 52, 000; Part 3: 23, 340
Disclaimer: RIB and FOX own everything ever.
Beta: rdm-ation
1A | 1B | 2A | 2B | 3A | 3B | 3C
This prompt. If Will wants a family, Terri will give him a family. And if he wants his precious glee kids - two birds, one stone.
Part Three
It was like his son had never left, was the thing.
Every room in their house bore his stamp. Burt couldn’t look at the curtains in the living room without hearing Kurt demand that they be eggshell rather than mauve; couldn’t look at the clock in the front hall without seeing Kurt fix its pendulum for the umpteenth time; couldn’t look at the couch in the den without feeling the satiny upholstery Kurt had wanted to use. He could hear Kurt’s commentary over every CD, smell him in the towels in the bathroom, and he could feel the pile of his heavy clothes in the laundry room.
Worse, he could see Kurt. Sitting in every chair, leaning against every car in the garage, sprawled with his homework on every bed. Kurt was always there in the corner of his eye, and it only made things worse.
“Would you like more tea? It’s white Darjeeling, imported directly from West Bengal,” said Hiram Berry. Burt nodded. He hated tea.
The Berrys’ house looked like a showhome, a tasteful model designed for a magazine. Burt was afraid to touch anything and sat on the edge of the couch, ill at ease, whenever he went over.
But still he went - at least three times a week. He and Hiram went to the police station together to let the cops know they weren’t giving up. Sometimes they gave interviews together, too.
It was ugly. Burt knew what they were doing. See, he was saying - to the police, the media, the country. You have to find my boy; he’s with the rich, pretty, straight girl. And Hiram stood by him to say, See. You have to find my girl; she’s with the son of this straight Christian blue collar worker.
And afterward, Burt went with Hiram to the Berry household, where Kurt wasn’t, not at all, not even in shadows, and he let the absence sink into his chest like a stone.
Sometimes they talked. Usually they watched tapes of Rachel’s performances. From when she was toddling in place and winning blue ribbons for pointing her to toes, up to when she was spinning, silly-elegant, and belting show tunes under her stiff new bangs; they had hundreds of tapes.
Burt liked that. It was everything connected to his son and nothing of him; pressure added to the pain but no ghost of his presence.
“I miss her,” Hiram would whisper, as though it were a secret - it was, because to miss them was to acknowledge that it had been too long. Carole was quiet and steady and strong, the reason Burt still got up in the morning, but he never told her he missed Kurt. He had a feeling Hiram would never say this to Leroy.
“I know,” Burt would say.
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He got home at ten o’clock to a silent house with every single light turned on. Finn had been having trouble with the dark lately, and Burt didn’t mind being able to see every corner like it was day. It was the silence that got to him - after Mildred and Andy left, any semblance of normalcy went out of the house with them. The house was filled, Carole and Schuester and the kids, but it was quieter than it had ever been when it was just him and Kurt.
Kurt had always been busy - doing laundry, cleaning, puttering around in the kitchen, playing his music too loud, singing to himself. There were dozens of machines in the house, it seemed, and Kurt used every one of them in the course of a day.
The television was on tonight, muted, and the house was so quiet Burt could hear the high whine of the set playing. Mercedes was watching it, face blank, with Blaine asleep on her shoulder. Will Schuester was in the chair Carole had brought in when they moved, staring pensively at a piece of paper.
“Hey,” Burt said. He looked at the TV and away again, quickly; it was the news, and they were doing a report on that other missing girl, the one with the rich dad. There was speculation that her disappearance might be connected to Kurt and Rachel’s. He didn’t think so. He didn’t care.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Hummel.” Mercedes looked around as if waking up herself and then down at her watch. “Oh my gosh. We should get going, huh?”
“Your folks’d probably like that,” Burt agreed.
“I’ll take you,” Will said, rousing himself and folding the paper into his pocket. “I can pick you two up tomorrow, Mercedes, and you can get your car then. You shouldn’t drive this late.”
“It’s only ten,” Mercedes said, but didn’t actually argue.
Will stood up and approached Burt. “The kitchen’s all done, and there’s some soup in the fridge. Carole just got back from work, she’s upstairs. And… I might have to go away for a few days, soon. Just a heads up. Emma will still be around to help out if you need her, though.”
“All right.” He nodded, only taking in every other word. Kurt would be yelling at Finn about the state the bathroom was in right about now, on any other summer night.
Mercedes turned off the TV and shook Blaine’s shoulder. “Come on, boy, time to get up.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Burt left the room while she was rousing Blaine. He couldn’t talk to Blaine, who tried so hard and so obviously to be brave and adult in the face of all this, whose eyes looked all the more lost and afraid for it.
He trudged up the stairs instead, to Finn’s room, just - to make sure.
Finn was asleep on his bed, snoring, with the overhead light and two lamps turned on. A bundle of pink fluff protruded from a sleeping bag on the floor - Quinn’s hair, Burt reminded himself again.
“Hey there,” Carole said, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “How are the kids downstairs?”
“On their way out. Will’s taking them.”
“Okay.” She settled against him, warm and soft. She smelled like soap, all her makeup gone, the sleeves of her robe enveloping his hands. “Did the police have anything new?”
“No. They’re starting to think maybe there is some connection to that other girl who went missing, the real rich one, even though they were almost a month apart. I don’t see what that has to do with anything. Don’t see how it helps us find him, anyway.”
“Burt, I’m scared for Kurt.” It was so low a whisper he nearly missed it.
He turned and folded her in his arms, hands fisting in the back of her robe. “So am I.” It hurt to say it, to admit it into this house.
“We’ll find him,” she said into his shoulder. “I’m sorry you’re going through of this on top of everything. I can’t imagine… but we’ll find him.” She said it fiercely, so fiercely he almost believed her, even though they both knew how much the chances decreased with every passing day. “He’s strong, Burt. We’ll find him.”
“I don’t know,” he confessed, and the possibility of never seeing Kurt again, of this forever, crashed into him as if it had never occurred to him before. It had, a thousand times a day it had.
“We will,” she said. She pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “Have I told you how proud I am of you? You’ve been so strong.”
Burt leaned into her hair and closed his eyes.
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Will found Emma asleep on the couch and stood for a moment, watching her. I love you, he thought, and he didn’t know why he would jeopardize this now that he finally had it, this precious thing with her - really had it, not just something that could slip through his fingers - why he would even consider leaving.
But he was.
“Hey, Ems.” He sat down next to her and stroked her cheek. “You want to move to the bed?”
“Will?” She rolled over, stretching her arms above her head. “What time is it?”
“Ten-thirty or so.” He stroked her hair back from her face. “Actually, if you’re up to it… I’d like to talk to you about that call Terri made.”
Emma stared up at him, huge brown eyes resigned and hurt. “You’re going to her.”
“No,” Will said firmly. “Not if you veto the idea. It’s up to you.”
“But you want to? Will, that woman is crazy, and she was horrible to you.”
“It’s just… she was a huge part of my life for so long.” He laughed dryly. “Actually, she was my life, for… too long, and it was - it wasn’t healthy, and I would never want that back. I’m with you, Emma, I choose you. I love you. But I’m afraid… I don’t want her to get hurt. I think we can agree that she’s not entirely stable, and I’m afraid she’ll… hurt herself, or someone else. I just want to make sure that this big emergency isn’t something dangerous.”
“Will,” Emma said, shaking her head, hair mussed against the cushion. “If you start this trend, she’s never going to let you stop. She’ll keep thinking of emergencies. We can’t live like that, with Terri interrupting our life together every few months. She needs to find help for herself.”
“I know. I know, you’re right, it would be better. But after everything we went through, I feel like I owe her one chance. I mean, what if it is a real emergency?”
“Even if it is, she’ll have some kind of trap set,” Emma said. “I try not to speak ill of other people behind their backs, because that is a vice and it leads to other bad behavior, but Terri is a mean, awful woman and you know it.”
“She is,” Will admitted. “But she wasn’t always, and then we lived together for years, her life was never what she wanted it to be, and I was all she had… and she got that way. I’m not saying she was ever a saint, or that it’s my fault that she enjoyed crushing people’s dreams when she couldn’t have hers, but - I did love her, for a long time, and I just… feel like I should see her just this once, if she says she needs me.” He bent over and kissed Emma’s nose. “But like I said, I won’t go if you say no. I want to help her if I can, but not at the expense of my relationship with you.”
“I wouldn’t ever veto something you want, Will,” Emma said.
“Does it help to know you can?”
Emma smiled and leaned up to kiss him back. “It does, a little.”
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Kurt was beginning to sober up for the first time in several days, and he did not like the feeling. Rachel and Terri seemed to agree that it was time to cut back on the painkillers and alcohol for his own good. Kurt, on the other hand, was very (if muzzily) certain that this was a bad idea. His leg and arm radiated a bone-deep pain that grew unbearable whenever he moved too much, and while he refused to look directly at them without the bandages, he knew the burns were hideous and the blisters were grotesque from Terri’s and Rachel’s faces. He also knew that he would have the scars forever, and that ‘forever’ might not even be that long if he got infected.
He’d prefer to stay drugged.
Instead, the world was coalescing around him into a living room with bars on the window, and Terri had her glasses on again. It was just his luck that he’d get kidnapped and dragged to parts unknown and still have a Schuester for a teacher.
“I hope you’re both ready to learn,” Terri chirped, whipping a dry erase marker out of the purse on her shoulder. Kurt wondered if the gun was in there. It wasn’t as if he’d be able to get at it. “We’ve let ourselves get off schedule under these extreme circumstances, but we need to get back on track now that Kurt’s feeling a little more himself.”
Rachel settled down on his good side, putting a hand on his knee. “We’re ready!”
“Excellent. Today we’re going to talk about the Seven Years’ War, which is a very important and boring part of American history. What happened was, the Indians teamed up with the French and tried to make us leave America, which of course didn’t work because there weren’t enough Indians and the French aren’t very good at anything but food.”
Terri turned to the whiteboard, fishing for more markers, and drew a stick figure with yellow braids, blue eyes, and a headband with a feather in it. “This,” she explained, “is a white person who has been taken into an Indian family and treated as one of their one - like Mary Jemison. There were countless beautiful, happy incidents like this during the Seven Years’ War. The Indians would take someone in to replace a lost relative, and before you know it, the new person had adapted completely, married, and lived a rich, happy life! Mary Jemison in particular bargained her little story into superstardom, and she is still famous to this day.” She nodded significantly. “I hope you two take this to heart.”
Kurt thought that at least, at school, he could forget the agenda they were pushing. He was immersed in it twenty-four seven, after all. He didn’t know that even the teachers were aware of what they were doing any longer (well, except for Mrs. [Nazi sympathizer]). But this was so… simplistic. So starkly obvious.
He raised his hand - the good one, the one that wasn’t throbbing all through his arm - and said, “What year was this?”
“Oh, the 1700s,” Terri said breezily. “Now, it’s time for a little reflection on the words of Sue Sylvester.” She took out the next index card. “‘SueTip 5: The first rule of an independent life is to live it pet-free. You may look into the window of a pound and be momentarily weakened by the sight of those big eyes and all that puffy fur, but next thing you know they’re shedding on your tracksuit, peeing on your trophies, or just plain whimpering in the night when you’re trying to get your vital ten minutes of shut-eye. The more inspired among you may think of spiders or snakes to frighten your enemy, but those critters will turn around and run scared at the slightest sign of a fight. And there is always the possibility that if you have a pet, an adversary will sneak into your house in the dead of night and PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE. Above all else, you don’t want to be responsible for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth - unless of course you’re a soccer mom. In which case, don’t worry. My plan for world domination will soon relieve you of your duties.’ Which is a lot to say that we won’t be getting a puppy, kids. Mom has plenty on her hands already with you two.”
“We won’t bother you for one,” Rachel said.
“I’m not much of a dog person,” Kurt agreed. “Of all the things I’d like to ask of you, that’s not even on the list.”
“Wonderful! Okay, kids, now I have to do a little cleaning, so I’d like you to go to your rooms for the evening.”
“Can we go to the same room?” Kurt looked up at her, putting his hand over Rachel’s. “I don’t feel well…”
“Oh… I suppose so.” Terri sighed, lips curling, clearly relishing the image of herself as the indulgent mother. “Go on now, though, I have to get to work.”
Rachel released a breath Kurt hadn’t heard her take. Her hand was shaking in his. “We’re going,” she said. “We’re going right now.” She hauled Kurt to his feet, arm looping around his waist. He winced when she hit his bad arm; the throbbing seemed to change location and direction, as if ripples were spreading out from the point of contact. “I’m sorry!” she said.
“It’s fine. I just… I need to lie down. Let’s go to my room.”
Terri locked them in. Of course she locked them in.
Rachel helped Kurt to his bed and onto it. She and Terri had been changing the sheets like maniacs lately, trying to keep him from infection, and these ones still smelled of laundry soap. He lay back obediently, and Rachel curled up beside him, hair tickling his chin.
Kurt circled her with his arm, one hand playing with her hair. “What is up with you, Rachel? And don’t think that just because we’re cuddling I’m not mad, because I swear to god I could smack you right now. We should be home with our parents after my humiliating but mercifully brief stint in the hospital, where I would either be recognized or signal the nurse that I needed help. There would have helicopters out to retrieve you in a matter of hours, and instead you’re asking ‘how high’ every time she says ‘jump.’”
Rachel pulled away from him to sit up, looking down into his eyes, face dead white. “Are you serious? I saved your life, Kurt. I saved mine, too.”
“But we’ve been over this. That was our whole plan. She won’t let us die, she has to believe that she’s our mother. She has to take care of us.” His hand pulsed and his leg burned. “She won’t let us die.”
“Yes, she will,” Rachel said, small and certain. “You don’t remember what I told you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“What I told you when I sabotaged your plan. In the kitchen, when you… when you got hurt, I -”
“No, Rachel, I don’t remember. I was preoccupied with the loss of consciousness and the scalding water all over my body. God, this… it wasn’t enough to be the gay kid with the preternaturally high voice. Now I have to be Rigoletto. I’m never going to -”
“They have surgery for this,” Rachel said firmly. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll be brilliant. We both will, together, in New York.”
“Yes, the Phantom was brilliant too. Maybe I can find a dark basement to hide in while you sing for me.”
“Stop it, Kurt. I told you, they can fix this. I saved your life. If we make her choose between giving this up and one of us dying? She’ll let us die.” Rachel glanced at the door, and just then, something started dragging in the attic just above their heads. It scraped slowly toward the hallway.
Rachel dropped back down beside him, tears beginning to spill over. “Kurt, she’s already killed someone.”
“No,” he said. “No, no no no.”
“There’s a body in the attic,” Rachel wept. “I mean, there are… pieces of it left.” She wiped her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything for us. We’re still going to do whatever it takes to get out of this, and we’re going to make it. I just, Kurt, I won’t let us be next.”
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Terri hummed to herself as she doubled the plastic wrapped around the torso to be sure the body wouldn’t drip anything nasty on the carpet. They were so close to being complete, to being a whole family, and the house would be perfect when Will got there. He needed to see that she was serious this time. She wouldn’t take him for granted any longer, she would be the perfect wife, she would cook, clean, be a mother, and bring home the bacon. He would have absolutely nothing to complain about. His life would be the ideal some people spent their whole lives looking for. He could tutor their children, do little dances and songs with them if he insisted - Rachel was even his favorite for that, last she checked. No one would question his ideas or leadership; after all, they were his children, so how could they? And they could put on little shows and she would laugh and clap in all the right places.
She would make him happy.
And now she had rotting flesh on her hand. Just perfect. The amount of scrubbing you had to do to get rid of something like that…
She rolled the torso in plastic several more times, and then dragged it over to the hatch. This was the tricky part; she’d only had to do an arm and a leg before; even the leg had been quite a hassle. Backing down a ladder with several pounds of decomposing human flesh, muscle, bone, and fluid was just too much for a working woman.
She let it drop, instead.
It made a horrible noise, but didn’t splatter as far as she could tell from up here. She quickly jumped down beside it and lifted it up - no, nothing on the carpet. Rachel had done such a nice job with the vacuuming before; she’d have to set her to it again. She really was the luckiest mother. Kurt had turned out to be more of a handful than she’d anticipated, but still, all things considered, Kendra had just been wrong. Two such wonderful children couldn’t possibly break her heart. They were mending it.
She took the torso out back, mindful of the bit of yard the kids could see from Kurt’s window; this was no time to upset the poor things. Not when they had an inspirational quote to discuss. Luckily the little dock that stuck out into the swamp was too far to the right for him; also luckily, none of the alligators were actually on it today. A few times she had come out to leave their snacks and the disgusting things were sunning themselves on her dock, of all the nerve. She had no intention of going out among them, either, so they had just had to go without those times. Which was why I still have so many pieces to get rid of.
She sauntered to the end of the dock and let the plastic wrapping unravel, spinning the body free into the swamp. It landed with a messy splash. Terri let the plastic fall as well and hurried back into the house, noting over her shoulder that one of the logs beneath the dock began floating purposefully toward where the torso had sunk.
Horrible. Right beneath her feet! But she had her gun. Kendra always knew how to take care of her little sister.
Terri locked the door behind her (with her clean hand) and went to close the attic staircase before she washed up and changed; the smell was absolutely offensive and she had to shower every single time she disposed of a piece.
She was pushing the stairs closed when something caught her eye, bright amidst the dust and cobwebs. A piece of blue cloth, just a scrap. She reached out and plucked it away from the metal of the supports, unsure why it bothered her so much. It could have come from something she was wearing one of these times. Except…
She walked into Rachel’s room and started pulling shirts out of the dresser, one after another, dropping them on the bed after looking them over.
Rachel had a scratch on her leg, Terri remembered.
And one of the shirts had a tear.
Just then she heard her cell phone ringing in her own room. It was the ringtone she’d set for Will. Hands shaking, it took her twice as long as normal to unlock the padlock and rush in to retrieve her cell; she tossed the torn shirt onto her bed on the way. “Will?” she gasped as soon as she hit receive.
“Terri….”
“Please say you’ll come,” she said, heart fast and painful in her chest. If this was all for nothing - if she was out here alone with them -
“Yes.”
“Oh,” she said, and started crying. “I promise, you’ll - when you get here, when you see why I need you - you won’t regret this, Will. You won’t.”
“I hope not. But I need you to understand something. You realize we’re divorced, and that I’m coming out to help you as a friend? I’m with Emma now, Terri. The only reason I’m doing this at all is that she’s okay with it. I’m coming down for a few days to make sure that you’re all right, but that’s it. I have a lot on my plate here. We both have our own lives to live now.”
“I understand,” she said. “Of course. You’re right.” Men. Tell them what they wanted to hear, and sooner or later they did what you wanted. Things would be so much simpler if they wouldn’t insist on doing things the long way, but they had to have their little power trips. That was probably the entire reason for the Seven Years’ War. And the territory disputes that had given the Ottomans so much trouble.
“Well… I’ll be leaving late tomorrow. I’ll get to your house around eight, we can discuss this, and then I’m going straight to my hotel. The day after that I’ll see what I can actually do for you, but then I have to leave. My return ticket is already paid for.”
“Yes, yes, it won’t need that long, I hope.” He’d forget all about his red panda and his precious return ticket once he saw the home he had waiting for him. And money would be no problem; Terri would take care of everything until he was used to things and ready to go back to work himself.
“Okay,” he said warily. “I’ll see you, then.”
“Soon,” she agreed. “Thank you.” She hung up before she could say “I love you,” but she felt it, all through her she felt it.
The torn blue shirt sat conspicuously on her bed.
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Terri stuck an air freshener in the plug in the hallway before she did anything else. She always thought more clearly with correctly perfumed air, and the smell that had leaked down from the attic was atrocious.
She stared at the shirt some more, and compared it once again to the scrap of cloth from the attic stairs. It wasn’t as if she could have done it; she’d bought a collection of men’s shirts for Kurt and Rachel to wear while they adjusted, and had never worn them herself. That Rachel would disobey her and violate her trust so blatantly, it was simply unthinkable.
Or it would have been, if she hadn’t been holding the evidence in her hands.
Slowly, she unlocked the door to Kurt’s room and swung it open. The kids were on the bed together, pressed close, and it tugged heavy at her chest to see them that way - siblings, together, but still, the two of them against her. Maybe she would have been better off with an only child. She had so wanted two, but she hadn’t realized how much work it would be. Kendra was always right about these things.
“Rachel,” she said. “I’d like you to come with me, please.”
Rachel sat straight up, dragging Kurt part of the way with her. He winced and fell back, hand tight on her arm. “Why, what is it? I thought we were supposed to stay out of your way for the evening.”
“I thought so too.”
Rachel stared at the shirt in her hand blankly. “What is it - Mom? What’s wrong?”
Terri crossed her arms. If she wanted to do it here, they could do it here. “Did I or did I not explicitly tell you not to go in the attic?”
“Oh,” Rachel said. “No, no.”
“Terri,” Kurt started.
“You hush,” she snapped. “And don’t you dare call me that.”
“Mom,” he corrected instantly. “She didn’t mean to, I put her up to it. I just thought -”
“What, Kurt? What did you think was so important that you told your little sister to disobey me?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered.
“There. You see? Nothing. All of this ridiculous fuss because you were curious. You should know better. And Rachel, really, I know you want to make your older brother happy, but you should know better too. You’re not a little girl any more. I am disappointed in both of you and you will both be punished for this. Honestly, I don’t even know who to hold more responsible. After everything I’ve done for you both, everything I do every single day. Don’t you think I’m under enough stress as it is, trying to hold this family together while your father plays pretend with his ginger tramp, and I take care of the move, I take care of the house, I take care of our children, I am the manager at Sheets-N-Things, I have to put dinner on the table. And what do you two do? You sneak around behind my back. You’re mean and clumsy and you make things harder than they have to be -”
“Mom,” Rachel gasped, and Terri found that she had advanced until she was standing over the girl. “We’re sorry, we’ll do better -”
“No,” Terri said. “No crocodile tears and big apologies. I need you both on your best behavior when your father gets here, and plainly I’ve been too soft on you. You’ll have to be punished.”
Rachel burst into tears. “I won’t let you!” She stood shakily, arms coming up as if to protect her face. “I won’t die, I won’t die, I won’t die -”
“Rachel!” Terri reached out and tugged her arms down, crushing the girl to her in a hug. “You’re not going to die, for God’s sake! I know I haven’t really punished you yet and you’re nervous, but goodness, this is a ridiculous overreaction.”
“Oh god,” Kurt said, curling in on himself slightly, and she realized he was crying as well, if more quietly.
“Babies! Why would you be afraid you were going to die? I would think that from you, at least, I could expect a little more level-headedness,” she accused Kurt. She cradled the back of Rachel’s head and the girl melted into her, arms wrapping around her, tiny and warm.
Kurt stared up at her, wide-eyed and almost green he was so pale, and she knew.
“Oh, Rachel, really!” She tried to pull back so that she could look her daughter in the eye, but Rachel wailed and clung tighter, and it was nice to be acknowledged as someone so necessary. “Now, baby girl, did you look in the Tupperware container? Is that what this is all about?” When Rachel nodded into her chest, Terri sighed and patted her back. “And you had to go and tell your brother about it, and the two of you sat alone working yourselves into a tizzy over nothing. Really, of all the stupid things to do.” She kicked the bed lightly. “Kurt, sit up.”
This was easier said than done, in his delicate state, and then she had to drag a near-hysterical Rachel along with her when she sat down next to him, but eventually they were all sitting together along the wall, where she could be close to them and explain things. It was another few minutes before Rachel got her breathing under control. Terri patted her back and murmured sweet things into her ear until she stopped gulping for air like a fish on land.
Terri decided to assume that Kurt had reached an emotional state wherein he was capable of understanding her, then, because she was bored enough having waited for Rachel.
“Babies, really. The body in the attic is nothing for you to worry your sweet heads about. That girl was just an experiment. When I was getting the house and the trailer ready for you two, I had to be sure that it was safe and that everything was completely ready. You wouldn’t want your mother to go off unprepared, would you? And I could hardly use my children as a test case. So I let that rude girl live with me for a few days as soon as the trailer was stripped and the house was remodeled, just to see how it went - you know, in case there was anything I hadn’t thought of. She never meant anything to me. Not like you two. I would never hurt you two. Now, don’t you feel silly? All of this drama over a misunderstanding.”
“What was her name?” Rachel asked.
“Whose name, baby?”
“The girl - the one before us, what was her -”
“Oh, don’t say that. She wasn’t before you, like you’re in the same series or something. She was just here for a while as a test run. It was a ridiculous name, anyway. I seriously question the wisdom of letting the father name a daughter, especially an Italian. She was far too attached to him; it did her good to have a mother in her life.”
“What was her name?” Kurt said.
“Oh, really!” Terri stood up. “I appreciate that you two are close, and I’m glad, I really am, but could you not gang up on me constantly? It is exhausting and I have enough to do. I have to go and consider how I’m going to punish the two of you, and I don’t want to hear another word about that girl. Not one word. Do I make myself clear?”
Kurt nodded first, and Rachel followed suit.
“Excellent. You try to get some sleep. Take care of your brother, Rachel. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She slammed and locked the door behind her. The emotional roller coaster those two put her through! Inexcusable. But it was no more than she’d signed on for - and after all, Will was coming soon. Then everything would fall into place.
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Rachel did not sleep well. She suspected that Kurt didn’t fare any better, but she refrained from looking at him - from doing anything more than clinging to his hand, closing her eyes, and staring at the darkness behind them.
She shouldn’t have interfered with Kurt’s plan, she thought, over and over. She should never have done it. She should have gone along with it and, at worst, maybe his burns would have been more severe, but maybe he had been right all along, and they were special enough to Terri that she would have taken him to a hospital. He wouldn’t really have died from a few burns. Probably. Almost certainly.
He could still get infected, even now, though. He could still -
And if he was wrong. If he was wrong Terri might have her gun out tomorrow and Rachel had always thought that she would be strong, if it came to it, that she would fight for her life with tooth and nail and every West Side Story-inspired move she had in her repertoire and that she would win because she was a star and stars won. Only more and more, she felt shaky and weak and slow, in her head even, as if not even her brain could keep up with what was happening and needed to be done, never mind her limbs. For the first time in her life, Rachel Berry didn’t trust herself.
The room turned gray, then green, as the sun rose. It was slanting across her face when the lock rattled before coming undone. Terri walked in. “Good morning, starshine!” she exclaimed, arms spread wide.
Kurt leaned on his elbow, and Rachel let herself look at his face for the first time since last night. He was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes, but he didn’t look… worse. Infected. Just sleepless and scared. “Have you decided?” he asked.
“Decided what, sweetie?”
“On our punishment.”
Rachel pressed a hand over her mouth.
“Oh, well - you kids! I can’t,” Terri said, shamefaced but still smiling, almost shyly.
“Can’t? Can’t what?” Rachel blurted, pulling her legs in closer.
“When I look at those sweet little faces? I just can’t punish you. Not this time. Not on such a happy day.” She clapped her hands together in delight. “Our family will finally be whole today! So I want you two to get up, get showered, and Rachel, you can throw some oatmeal together. Then you can both meet me in the living room. We have some projects to work on that I think you’ll both enjoy!” She danced out of the room and out of sight, humming to herself.
“She’s lost it,” Kurt breathed in Rachel’s ear. “She’s completely lost it, oh my god.”
“Kurt - what if she means Mr. Schuester? She keeps talking about family and our dad, what if she means that he’s coming?”
“What if she thinks he’s coming?” Kurt countered. There was a nasty, biting little hope in his chest now that she’d said it, and with Rachel’s eyes big and bright that hope seemed more convincing every second, but someone had to think realistically. “What if she thinks he is and he doesn’t and she gets angry - or she still thinks he has? We could be serving food to an invisible head of the household by the end of the day.”
“But maybe it will be him,” Rachel said. “And if you’re right, what would we do about it?”
“Kids!” Terri called. “Get a move on! I should hear the shower running!”
“We’ll think of something,” Kurt said. “We can handle this. We’ve handled everything so far.” He wondered if the girl in the attic had thought she could handle Terri.
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After helping Kurt with his bandages this morning, Rachel was sure that she would never ever, even if the world suffered a catastrophic event and she had to live in some kind of post-apocalyptic martial state, be a nurse. On the bright side, she would make a very convincing nurse on the stage, should that ever be required of her.
Several of his blisters had broken. She remembered from her first aid training that this was bad, but it was bad because you were meant to get the injured person to the hospital where they could take care of things properly. Maybe at the hospital they would have lanced the blisters. Maybe she should be lancing them now, since the hospital wasn’t an option.
The burns were still horrible, but at least they had stopped bleeding.
She washed her hands for several minutes running before she put the first two bowls of oatmeal in the microwave and darted back to Kurt’s room to be sure he was getting dressed all right.
“I’m not a child, Rachel,” he snapped when she poked her head in. “It’s just going to take me a few minutes.”
“Your shirt’s on backwards,” she said, which was untrue, but she was gone before he figured it out. He deserved it for being so pessimistic when Mr. Schue could be here to rescue them by the end of the day.
She took Terri’s oatmeal in to her after she was sure there was enough sugar in it; Terri’s susceptibility to sweeteners outdid even her own, which was saying something. “What are we doing today?” she asked tentatively, looking at the wealth of crafting materials laid out around the living room.
“We’re going to get one hundred percent ready for your father,” Terri said. “I’m going to finish showing you how to make a skirt, so that you’ll have a pretty new pink one when he gets here. And your brother and I are going to bedazzle a Welcome Home sign for him.”
“That sounds great!” Rachel couldn’t think of a tactful way to ask for her “father’s” name, and retreated to the kitchen for the last bowl of oatmeal before she could say something that would get her smacked, or push Terri over into actually punishing her.
She hadn’t even been able to tell the body upstairs was a girl, it was so…
She looked up when Kurt reached the kitchen. “We’re crafting today,” she reported.
“Oh, joy.” Kurt reached one of the lawn chairs and clutched at it for balance, knuckles white. “Have you seen the gun?” he asked, almost mouthing.
Rachel shook her head rapidly, grabbing his oatmeal. “Shut up, no, but she has her purse with her, I don’t know -”
“She’s completely insane, Rachel, we have to try something -”
“Come on, kids, we don’t have all day!” Terri called, and Rachel slid under Kurt’s arm to support him.
“Coming!” she answered, and added in Kurt’s ear, “You can barely move and we still don’t know if you’re sick, stop making things worse.”
Terri greeted them with a smile and a kiss for Kurt, whom she set firmly on the sofa beside her. “I thought I’d put you in charge of the bedazzling, sweetie.” She handed over a bedazzler and a plastic case of assorted gems. “I have this sign all done, but it could use a little sparkle.” She produced a rolled length of canvas and spread it over the coffee table.
WELCOME HOME WILL, it said in bubble letters the size of Kurt’s hand.
Rachel made a quick, strangled noise and Kurt kicked her ankle, gasping when the movement redistributed his weight against his burned leg.
“I know you’re excited, but try to behave,” Terri said, going through the pile of cloth on her lap. “Rachel, come around here on my other side, and I’ll fit you for this skirt… then I’ll show you how to put it together with the sewing machine, okay?”
Kurt raised an eyebrow significantly at Rachel, who was staring ahead too intently to see him as she made her way over to Terri. He sighed. It was going to be a long morning.
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Next part...
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Master List
Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, ableism, homophobia, physical abuse by a caretaker, a smidgen of Stockholm's, serious injury, tertiary character death.
Rating: R
Word Count: Whole fic: 52, 000; Part 3: 23, 340
Disclaimer: RIB and FOX own everything ever.
Beta: rdm-ation
1A | 1B | 2A | 2B | 3A | 3B | 3C
This prompt. If Will wants a family, Terri will give him a family. And if he wants his precious glee kids - two birds, one stone.
Part Three
It was like his son had never left, was the thing.
Every room in their house bore his stamp. Burt couldn’t look at the curtains in the living room without hearing Kurt demand that they be eggshell rather than mauve; couldn’t look at the clock in the front hall without seeing Kurt fix its pendulum for the umpteenth time; couldn’t look at the couch in the den without feeling the satiny upholstery Kurt had wanted to use. He could hear Kurt’s commentary over every CD, smell him in the towels in the bathroom, and he could feel the pile of his heavy clothes in the laundry room.
Worse, he could see Kurt. Sitting in every chair, leaning against every car in the garage, sprawled with his homework on every bed. Kurt was always there in the corner of his eye, and it only made things worse.
“Would you like more tea? It’s white Darjeeling, imported directly from West Bengal,” said Hiram Berry. Burt nodded. He hated tea.
The Berrys’ house looked like a showhome, a tasteful model designed for a magazine. Burt was afraid to touch anything and sat on the edge of the couch, ill at ease, whenever he went over.
But still he went - at least three times a week. He and Hiram went to the police station together to let the cops know they weren’t giving up. Sometimes they gave interviews together, too.
It was ugly. Burt knew what they were doing. See, he was saying - to the police, the media, the country. You have to find my boy; he’s with the rich, pretty, straight girl. And Hiram stood by him to say, See. You have to find my girl; she’s with the son of this straight Christian blue collar worker.
And afterward, Burt went with Hiram to the Berry household, where Kurt wasn’t, not at all, not even in shadows, and he let the absence sink into his chest like a stone.
Sometimes they talked. Usually they watched tapes of Rachel’s performances. From when she was toddling in place and winning blue ribbons for pointing her to toes, up to when she was spinning, silly-elegant, and belting show tunes under her stiff new bangs; they had hundreds of tapes.
Burt liked that. It was everything connected to his son and nothing of him; pressure added to the pain but no ghost of his presence.
“I miss her,” Hiram would whisper, as though it were a secret - it was, because to miss them was to acknowledge that it had been too long. Carole was quiet and steady and strong, the reason Burt still got up in the morning, but he never told her he missed Kurt. He had a feeling Hiram would never say this to Leroy.
“I know,” Burt would say.
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He got home at ten o’clock to a silent house with every single light turned on. Finn had been having trouble with the dark lately, and Burt didn’t mind being able to see every corner like it was day. It was the silence that got to him - after Mildred and Andy left, any semblance of normalcy went out of the house with them. The house was filled, Carole and Schuester and the kids, but it was quieter than it had ever been when it was just him and Kurt.
Kurt had always been busy - doing laundry, cleaning, puttering around in the kitchen, playing his music too loud, singing to himself. There were dozens of machines in the house, it seemed, and Kurt used every one of them in the course of a day.
The television was on tonight, muted, and the house was so quiet Burt could hear the high whine of the set playing. Mercedes was watching it, face blank, with Blaine asleep on her shoulder. Will Schuester was in the chair Carole had brought in when they moved, staring pensively at a piece of paper.
“Hey,” Burt said. He looked at the TV and away again, quickly; it was the news, and they were doing a report on that other missing girl, the one with the rich dad. There was speculation that her disappearance might be connected to Kurt and Rachel’s. He didn’t think so. He didn’t care.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Hummel.” Mercedes looked around as if waking up herself and then down at her watch. “Oh my gosh. We should get going, huh?”
“Your folks’d probably like that,” Burt agreed.
“I’ll take you,” Will said, rousing himself and folding the paper into his pocket. “I can pick you two up tomorrow, Mercedes, and you can get your car then. You shouldn’t drive this late.”
“It’s only ten,” Mercedes said, but didn’t actually argue.
Will stood up and approached Burt. “The kitchen’s all done, and there’s some soup in the fridge. Carole just got back from work, she’s upstairs. And… I might have to go away for a few days, soon. Just a heads up. Emma will still be around to help out if you need her, though.”
“All right.” He nodded, only taking in every other word. Kurt would be yelling at Finn about the state the bathroom was in right about now, on any other summer night.
Mercedes turned off the TV and shook Blaine’s shoulder. “Come on, boy, time to get up.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Burt left the room while she was rousing Blaine. He couldn’t talk to Blaine, who tried so hard and so obviously to be brave and adult in the face of all this, whose eyes looked all the more lost and afraid for it.
He trudged up the stairs instead, to Finn’s room, just - to make sure.
Finn was asleep on his bed, snoring, with the overhead light and two lamps turned on. A bundle of pink fluff protruded from a sleeping bag on the floor - Quinn’s hair, Burt reminded himself again.
“Hey there,” Carole said, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “How are the kids downstairs?”
“On their way out. Will’s taking them.”
“Okay.” She settled against him, warm and soft. She smelled like soap, all her makeup gone, the sleeves of her robe enveloping his hands. “Did the police have anything new?”
“No. They’re starting to think maybe there is some connection to that other girl who went missing, the real rich one, even though they were almost a month apart. I don’t see what that has to do with anything. Don’t see how it helps us find him, anyway.”
“Burt, I’m scared for Kurt.” It was so low a whisper he nearly missed it.
He turned and folded her in his arms, hands fisting in the back of her robe. “So am I.” It hurt to say it, to admit it into this house.
“We’ll find him,” she said into his shoulder. “I’m sorry you’re going through of this on top of everything. I can’t imagine… but we’ll find him.” She said it fiercely, so fiercely he almost believed her, even though they both knew how much the chances decreased with every passing day. “He’s strong, Burt. We’ll find him.”
“I don’t know,” he confessed, and the possibility of never seeing Kurt again, of this forever, crashed into him as if it had never occurred to him before. It had, a thousand times a day it had.
“We will,” she said. She pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “Have I told you how proud I am of you? You’ve been so strong.”
Burt leaned into her hair and closed his eyes.
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Will found Emma asleep on the couch and stood for a moment, watching her. I love you, he thought, and he didn’t know why he would jeopardize this now that he finally had it, this precious thing with her - really had it, not just something that could slip through his fingers - why he would even consider leaving.
But he was.
“Hey, Ems.” He sat down next to her and stroked her cheek. “You want to move to the bed?”
“Will?” She rolled over, stretching her arms above her head. “What time is it?”
“Ten-thirty or so.” He stroked her hair back from her face. “Actually, if you’re up to it… I’d like to talk to you about that call Terri made.”
Emma stared up at him, huge brown eyes resigned and hurt. “You’re going to her.”
“No,” Will said firmly. “Not if you veto the idea. It’s up to you.”
“But you want to? Will, that woman is crazy, and she was horrible to you.”
“It’s just… she was a huge part of my life for so long.” He laughed dryly. “Actually, she was my life, for… too long, and it was - it wasn’t healthy, and I would never want that back. I’m with you, Emma, I choose you. I love you. But I’m afraid… I don’t want her to get hurt. I think we can agree that she’s not entirely stable, and I’m afraid she’ll… hurt herself, or someone else. I just want to make sure that this big emergency isn’t something dangerous.”
“Will,” Emma said, shaking her head, hair mussed against the cushion. “If you start this trend, she’s never going to let you stop. She’ll keep thinking of emergencies. We can’t live like that, with Terri interrupting our life together every few months. She needs to find help for herself.”
“I know. I know, you’re right, it would be better. But after everything we went through, I feel like I owe her one chance. I mean, what if it is a real emergency?”
“Even if it is, she’ll have some kind of trap set,” Emma said. “I try not to speak ill of other people behind their backs, because that is a vice and it leads to other bad behavior, but Terri is a mean, awful woman and you know it.”
“She is,” Will admitted. “But she wasn’t always, and then we lived together for years, her life was never what she wanted it to be, and I was all she had… and she got that way. I’m not saying she was ever a saint, or that it’s my fault that she enjoyed crushing people’s dreams when she couldn’t have hers, but - I did love her, for a long time, and I just… feel like I should see her just this once, if she says she needs me.” He bent over and kissed Emma’s nose. “But like I said, I won’t go if you say no. I want to help her if I can, but not at the expense of my relationship with you.”
“I wouldn’t ever veto something you want, Will,” Emma said.
“Does it help to know you can?”
Emma smiled and leaned up to kiss him back. “It does, a little.”
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Kurt was beginning to sober up for the first time in several days, and he did not like the feeling. Rachel and Terri seemed to agree that it was time to cut back on the painkillers and alcohol for his own good. Kurt, on the other hand, was very (if muzzily) certain that this was a bad idea. His leg and arm radiated a bone-deep pain that grew unbearable whenever he moved too much, and while he refused to look directly at them without the bandages, he knew the burns were hideous and the blisters were grotesque from Terri’s and Rachel’s faces. He also knew that he would have the scars forever, and that ‘forever’ might not even be that long if he got infected.
He’d prefer to stay drugged.
Instead, the world was coalescing around him into a living room with bars on the window, and Terri had her glasses on again. It was just his luck that he’d get kidnapped and dragged to parts unknown and still have a Schuester for a teacher.
“I hope you’re both ready to learn,” Terri chirped, whipping a dry erase marker out of the purse on her shoulder. Kurt wondered if the gun was in there. It wasn’t as if he’d be able to get at it. “We’ve let ourselves get off schedule under these extreme circumstances, but we need to get back on track now that Kurt’s feeling a little more himself.”
Rachel settled down on his good side, putting a hand on his knee. “We’re ready!”
“Excellent. Today we’re going to talk about the Seven Years’ War, which is a very important and boring part of American history. What happened was, the Indians teamed up with the French and tried to make us leave America, which of course didn’t work because there weren’t enough Indians and the French aren’t very good at anything but food.”
Terri turned to the whiteboard, fishing for more markers, and drew a stick figure with yellow braids, blue eyes, and a headband with a feather in it. “This,” she explained, “is a white person who has been taken into an Indian family and treated as one of their one - like Mary Jemison. There were countless beautiful, happy incidents like this during the Seven Years’ War. The Indians would take someone in to replace a lost relative, and before you know it, the new person had adapted completely, married, and lived a rich, happy life! Mary Jemison in particular bargained her little story into superstardom, and she is still famous to this day.” She nodded significantly. “I hope you two take this to heart.”
Kurt thought that at least, at school, he could forget the agenda they were pushing. He was immersed in it twenty-four seven, after all. He didn’t know that even the teachers were aware of what they were doing any longer (well, except for Mrs. [Nazi sympathizer]). But this was so… simplistic. So starkly obvious.
He raised his hand - the good one, the one that wasn’t throbbing all through his arm - and said, “What year was this?”
“Oh, the 1700s,” Terri said breezily. “Now, it’s time for a little reflection on the words of Sue Sylvester.” She took out the next index card. “‘SueTip 5: The first rule of an independent life is to live it pet-free. You may look into the window of a pound and be momentarily weakened by the sight of those big eyes and all that puffy fur, but next thing you know they’re shedding on your tracksuit, peeing on your trophies, or just plain whimpering in the night when you’re trying to get your vital ten minutes of shut-eye. The more inspired among you may think of spiders or snakes to frighten your enemy, but those critters will turn around and run scared at the slightest sign of a fight. And there is always the possibility that if you have a pet, an adversary will sneak into your house in the dead of night and PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE. Above all else, you don’t want to be responsible for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth - unless of course you’re a soccer mom. In which case, don’t worry. My plan for world domination will soon relieve you of your duties.’ Which is a lot to say that we won’t be getting a puppy, kids. Mom has plenty on her hands already with you two.”
“We won’t bother you for one,” Rachel said.
“I’m not much of a dog person,” Kurt agreed. “Of all the things I’d like to ask of you, that’s not even on the list.”
“Wonderful! Okay, kids, now I have to do a little cleaning, so I’d like you to go to your rooms for the evening.”
“Can we go to the same room?” Kurt looked up at her, putting his hand over Rachel’s. “I don’t feel well…”
“Oh… I suppose so.” Terri sighed, lips curling, clearly relishing the image of herself as the indulgent mother. “Go on now, though, I have to get to work.”
Rachel released a breath Kurt hadn’t heard her take. Her hand was shaking in his. “We’re going,” she said. “We’re going right now.” She hauled Kurt to his feet, arm looping around his waist. He winced when she hit his bad arm; the throbbing seemed to change location and direction, as if ripples were spreading out from the point of contact. “I’m sorry!” she said.
“It’s fine. I just… I need to lie down. Let’s go to my room.”
Terri locked them in. Of course she locked them in.
Rachel helped Kurt to his bed and onto it. She and Terri had been changing the sheets like maniacs lately, trying to keep him from infection, and these ones still smelled of laundry soap. He lay back obediently, and Rachel curled up beside him, hair tickling his chin.
Kurt circled her with his arm, one hand playing with her hair. “What is up with you, Rachel? And don’t think that just because we’re cuddling I’m not mad, because I swear to god I could smack you right now. We should be home with our parents after my humiliating but mercifully brief stint in the hospital, where I would either be recognized or signal the nurse that I needed help. There would have helicopters out to retrieve you in a matter of hours, and instead you’re asking ‘how high’ every time she says ‘jump.’”
Rachel pulled away from him to sit up, looking down into his eyes, face dead white. “Are you serious? I saved your life, Kurt. I saved mine, too.”
“But we’ve been over this. That was our whole plan. She won’t let us die, she has to believe that she’s our mother. She has to take care of us.” His hand pulsed and his leg burned. “She won’t let us die.”
“Yes, she will,” Rachel said, small and certain. “You don’t remember what I told you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“What I told you when I sabotaged your plan. In the kitchen, when you… when you got hurt, I -”
“No, Rachel, I don’t remember. I was preoccupied with the loss of consciousness and the scalding water all over my body. God, this… it wasn’t enough to be the gay kid with the preternaturally high voice. Now I have to be Rigoletto. I’m never going to -”
“They have surgery for this,” Rachel said firmly. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll be brilliant. We both will, together, in New York.”
“Yes, the Phantom was brilliant too. Maybe I can find a dark basement to hide in while you sing for me.”
“Stop it, Kurt. I told you, they can fix this. I saved your life. If we make her choose between giving this up and one of us dying? She’ll let us die.” Rachel glanced at the door, and just then, something started dragging in the attic just above their heads. It scraped slowly toward the hallway.
Rachel dropped back down beside him, tears beginning to spill over. “Kurt, she’s already killed someone.”
“No,” he said. “No, no no no.”
“There’s a body in the attic,” Rachel wept. “I mean, there are… pieces of it left.” She wiped her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything for us. We’re still going to do whatever it takes to get out of this, and we’re going to make it. I just, Kurt, I won’t let us be next.”
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Terri hummed to herself as she doubled the plastic wrapped around the torso to be sure the body wouldn’t drip anything nasty on the carpet. They were so close to being complete, to being a whole family, and the house would be perfect when Will got there. He needed to see that she was serious this time. She wouldn’t take him for granted any longer, she would be the perfect wife, she would cook, clean, be a mother, and bring home the bacon. He would have absolutely nothing to complain about. His life would be the ideal some people spent their whole lives looking for. He could tutor their children, do little dances and songs with them if he insisted - Rachel was even his favorite for that, last she checked. No one would question his ideas or leadership; after all, they were his children, so how could they? And they could put on little shows and she would laugh and clap in all the right places.
She would make him happy.
And now she had rotting flesh on her hand. Just perfect. The amount of scrubbing you had to do to get rid of something like that…
She rolled the torso in plastic several more times, and then dragged it over to the hatch. This was the tricky part; she’d only had to do an arm and a leg before; even the leg had been quite a hassle. Backing down a ladder with several pounds of decomposing human flesh, muscle, bone, and fluid was just too much for a working woman.
She let it drop, instead.
It made a horrible noise, but didn’t splatter as far as she could tell from up here. She quickly jumped down beside it and lifted it up - no, nothing on the carpet. Rachel had done such a nice job with the vacuuming before; she’d have to set her to it again. She really was the luckiest mother. Kurt had turned out to be more of a handful than she’d anticipated, but still, all things considered, Kendra had just been wrong. Two such wonderful children couldn’t possibly break her heart. They were mending it.
She took the torso out back, mindful of the bit of yard the kids could see from Kurt’s window; this was no time to upset the poor things. Not when they had an inspirational quote to discuss. Luckily the little dock that stuck out into the swamp was too far to the right for him; also luckily, none of the alligators were actually on it today. A few times she had come out to leave their snacks and the disgusting things were sunning themselves on her dock, of all the nerve. She had no intention of going out among them, either, so they had just had to go without those times. Which was why I still have so many pieces to get rid of.
She sauntered to the end of the dock and let the plastic wrapping unravel, spinning the body free into the swamp. It landed with a messy splash. Terri let the plastic fall as well and hurried back into the house, noting over her shoulder that one of the logs beneath the dock began floating purposefully toward where the torso had sunk.
Horrible. Right beneath her feet! But she had her gun. Kendra always knew how to take care of her little sister.
Terri locked the door behind her (with her clean hand) and went to close the attic staircase before she washed up and changed; the smell was absolutely offensive and she had to shower every single time she disposed of a piece.
She was pushing the stairs closed when something caught her eye, bright amidst the dust and cobwebs. A piece of blue cloth, just a scrap. She reached out and plucked it away from the metal of the supports, unsure why it bothered her so much. It could have come from something she was wearing one of these times. Except…
She walked into Rachel’s room and started pulling shirts out of the dresser, one after another, dropping them on the bed after looking them over.
Rachel had a scratch on her leg, Terri remembered.
And one of the shirts had a tear.
Just then she heard her cell phone ringing in her own room. It was the ringtone she’d set for Will. Hands shaking, it took her twice as long as normal to unlock the padlock and rush in to retrieve her cell; she tossed the torn shirt onto her bed on the way. “Will?” she gasped as soon as she hit receive.
“Terri….”
“Please say you’ll come,” she said, heart fast and painful in her chest. If this was all for nothing - if she was out here alone with them -
“Yes.”
“Oh,” she said, and started crying. “I promise, you’ll - when you get here, when you see why I need you - you won’t regret this, Will. You won’t.”
“I hope not. But I need you to understand something. You realize we’re divorced, and that I’m coming out to help you as a friend? I’m with Emma now, Terri. The only reason I’m doing this at all is that she’s okay with it. I’m coming down for a few days to make sure that you’re all right, but that’s it. I have a lot on my plate here. We both have our own lives to live now.”
“I understand,” she said. “Of course. You’re right.” Men. Tell them what they wanted to hear, and sooner or later they did what you wanted. Things would be so much simpler if they wouldn’t insist on doing things the long way, but they had to have their little power trips. That was probably the entire reason for the Seven Years’ War. And the territory disputes that had given the Ottomans so much trouble.
“Well… I’ll be leaving late tomorrow. I’ll get to your house around eight, we can discuss this, and then I’m going straight to my hotel. The day after that I’ll see what I can actually do for you, but then I have to leave. My return ticket is already paid for.”
“Yes, yes, it won’t need that long, I hope.” He’d forget all about his red panda and his precious return ticket once he saw the home he had waiting for him. And money would be no problem; Terri would take care of everything until he was used to things and ready to go back to work himself.
“Okay,” he said warily. “I’ll see you, then.”
“Soon,” she agreed. “Thank you.” She hung up before she could say “I love you,” but she felt it, all through her she felt it.
The torn blue shirt sat conspicuously on her bed.
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Terri stuck an air freshener in the plug in the hallway before she did anything else. She always thought more clearly with correctly perfumed air, and the smell that had leaked down from the attic was atrocious.
She stared at the shirt some more, and compared it once again to the scrap of cloth from the attic stairs. It wasn’t as if she could have done it; she’d bought a collection of men’s shirts for Kurt and Rachel to wear while they adjusted, and had never worn them herself. That Rachel would disobey her and violate her trust so blatantly, it was simply unthinkable.
Or it would have been, if she hadn’t been holding the evidence in her hands.
Slowly, she unlocked the door to Kurt’s room and swung it open. The kids were on the bed together, pressed close, and it tugged heavy at her chest to see them that way - siblings, together, but still, the two of them against her. Maybe she would have been better off with an only child. She had so wanted two, but she hadn’t realized how much work it would be. Kendra was always right about these things.
“Rachel,” she said. “I’d like you to come with me, please.”
Rachel sat straight up, dragging Kurt part of the way with her. He winced and fell back, hand tight on her arm. “Why, what is it? I thought we were supposed to stay out of your way for the evening.”
“I thought so too.”
Rachel stared at the shirt in her hand blankly. “What is it - Mom? What’s wrong?”
Terri crossed her arms. If she wanted to do it here, they could do it here. “Did I or did I not explicitly tell you not to go in the attic?”
“Oh,” Rachel said. “No, no.”
“Terri,” Kurt started.
“You hush,” she snapped. “And don’t you dare call me that.”
“Mom,” he corrected instantly. “She didn’t mean to, I put her up to it. I just thought -”
“What, Kurt? What did you think was so important that you told your little sister to disobey me?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered.
“There. You see? Nothing. All of this ridiculous fuss because you were curious. You should know better. And Rachel, really, I know you want to make your older brother happy, but you should know better too. You’re not a little girl any more. I am disappointed in both of you and you will both be punished for this. Honestly, I don’t even know who to hold more responsible. After everything I’ve done for you both, everything I do every single day. Don’t you think I’m under enough stress as it is, trying to hold this family together while your father plays pretend with his ginger tramp, and I take care of the move, I take care of the house, I take care of our children, I am the manager at Sheets-N-Things, I have to put dinner on the table. And what do you two do? You sneak around behind my back. You’re mean and clumsy and you make things harder than they have to be -”
“Mom,” Rachel gasped, and Terri found that she had advanced until she was standing over the girl. “We’re sorry, we’ll do better -”
“No,” Terri said. “No crocodile tears and big apologies. I need you both on your best behavior when your father gets here, and plainly I’ve been too soft on you. You’ll have to be punished.”
Rachel burst into tears. “I won’t let you!” She stood shakily, arms coming up as if to protect her face. “I won’t die, I won’t die, I won’t die -”
“Rachel!” Terri reached out and tugged her arms down, crushing the girl to her in a hug. “You’re not going to die, for God’s sake! I know I haven’t really punished you yet and you’re nervous, but goodness, this is a ridiculous overreaction.”
“Oh god,” Kurt said, curling in on himself slightly, and she realized he was crying as well, if more quietly.
“Babies! Why would you be afraid you were going to die? I would think that from you, at least, I could expect a little more level-headedness,” she accused Kurt. She cradled the back of Rachel’s head and the girl melted into her, arms wrapping around her, tiny and warm.
Kurt stared up at her, wide-eyed and almost green he was so pale, and she knew.
“Oh, Rachel, really!” She tried to pull back so that she could look her daughter in the eye, but Rachel wailed and clung tighter, and it was nice to be acknowledged as someone so necessary. “Now, baby girl, did you look in the Tupperware container? Is that what this is all about?” When Rachel nodded into her chest, Terri sighed and patted her back. “And you had to go and tell your brother about it, and the two of you sat alone working yourselves into a tizzy over nothing. Really, of all the stupid things to do.” She kicked the bed lightly. “Kurt, sit up.”
This was easier said than done, in his delicate state, and then she had to drag a near-hysterical Rachel along with her when she sat down next to him, but eventually they were all sitting together along the wall, where she could be close to them and explain things. It was another few minutes before Rachel got her breathing under control. Terri patted her back and murmured sweet things into her ear until she stopped gulping for air like a fish on land.
Terri decided to assume that Kurt had reached an emotional state wherein he was capable of understanding her, then, because she was bored enough having waited for Rachel.
“Babies, really. The body in the attic is nothing for you to worry your sweet heads about. That girl was just an experiment. When I was getting the house and the trailer ready for you two, I had to be sure that it was safe and that everything was completely ready. You wouldn’t want your mother to go off unprepared, would you? And I could hardly use my children as a test case. So I let that rude girl live with me for a few days as soon as the trailer was stripped and the house was remodeled, just to see how it went - you know, in case there was anything I hadn’t thought of. She never meant anything to me. Not like you two. I would never hurt you two. Now, don’t you feel silly? All of this drama over a misunderstanding.”
“What was her name?” Rachel asked.
“Whose name, baby?”
“The girl - the one before us, what was her -”
“Oh, don’t say that. She wasn’t before you, like you’re in the same series or something. She was just here for a while as a test run. It was a ridiculous name, anyway. I seriously question the wisdom of letting the father name a daughter, especially an Italian. She was far too attached to him; it did her good to have a mother in her life.”
“What was her name?” Kurt said.
“Oh, really!” Terri stood up. “I appreciate that you two are close, and I’m glad, I really am, but could you not gang up on me constantly? It is exhausting and I have enough to do. I have to go and consider how I’m going to punish the two of you, and I don’t want to hear another word about that girl. Not one word. Do I make myself clear?”
Kurt nodded first, and Rachel followed suit.
“Excellent. You try to get some sleep. Take care of your brother, Rachel. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She slammed and locked the door behind her. The emotional roller coaster those two put her through! Inexcusable. But it was no more than she’d signed on for - and after all, Will was coming soon. Then everything would fall into place.
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Rachel did not sleep well. She suspected that Kurt didn’t fare any better, but she refrained from looking at him - from doing anything more than clinging to his hand, closing her eyes, and staring at the darkness behind them.
She shouldn’t have interfered with Kurt’s plan, she thought, over and over. She should never have done it. She should have gone along with it and, at worst, maybe his burns would have been more severe, but maybe he had been right all along, and they were special enough to Terri that she would have taken him to a hospital. He wouldn’t really have died from a few burns. Probably. Almost certainly.
He could still get infected, even now, though. He could still -
And if he was wrong. If he was wrong Terri might have her gun out tomorrow and Rachel had always thought that she would be strong, if it came to it, that she would fight for her life with tooth and nail and every West Side Story-inspired move she had in her repertoire and that she would win because she was a star and stars won. Only more and more, she felt shaky and weak and slow, in her head even, as if not even her brain could keep up with what was happening and needed to be done, never mind her limbs. For the first time in her life, Rachel Berry didn’t trust herself.
The room turned gray, then green, as the sun rose. It was slanting across her face when the lock rattled before coming undone. Terri walked in. “Good morning, starshine!” she exclaimed, arms spread wide.
Kurt leaned on his elbow, and Rachel let herself look at his face for the first time since last night. He was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes, but he didn’t look… worse. Infected. Just sleepless and scared. “Have you decided?” he asked.
“Decided what, sweetie?”
“On our punishment.”
Rachel pressed a hand over her mouth.
“Oh, well - you kids! I can’t,” Terri said, shamefaced but still smiling, almost shyly.
“Can’t? Can’t what?” Rachel blurted, pulling her legs in closer.
“When I look at those sweet little faces? I just can’t punish you. Not this time. Not on such a happy day.” She clapped her hands together in delight. “Our family will finally be whole today! So I want you two to get up, get showered, and Rachel, you can throw some oatmeal together. Then you can both meet me in the living room. We have some projects to work on that I think you’ll both enjoy!” She danced out of the room and out of sight, humming to herself.
“She’s lost it,” Kurt breathed in Rachel’s ear. “She’s completely lost it, oh my god.”
“Kurt - what if she means Mr. Schuester? She keeps talking about family and our dad, what if she means that he’s coming?”
“What if she thinks he’s coming?” Kurt countered. There was a nasty, biting little hope in his chest now that she’d said it, and with Rachel’s eyes big and bright that hope seemed more convincing every second, but someone had to think realistically. “What if she thinks he is and he doesn’t and she gets angry - or she still thinks he has? We could be serving food to an invisible head of the household by the end of the day.”
“But maybe it will be him,” Rachel said. “And if you’re right, what would we do about it?”
“Kids!” Terri called. “Get a move on! I should hear the shower running!”
“We’ll think of something,” Kurt said. “We can handle this. We’ve handled everything so far.” He wondered if the girl in the attic had thought she could handle Terri.
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After helping Kurt with his bandages this morning, Rachel was sure that she would never ever, even if the world suffered a catastrophic event and she had to live in some kind of post-apocalyptic martial state, be a nurse. On the bright side, she would make a very convincing nurse on the stage, should that ever be required of her.
Several of his blisters had broken. She remembered from her first aid training that this was bad, but it was bad because you were meant to get the injured person to the hospital where they could take care of things properly. Maybe at the hospital they would have lanced the blisters. Maybe she should be lancing them now, since the hospital wasn’t an option.
The burns were still horrible, but at least they had stopped bleeding.
She washed her hands for several minutes running before she put the first two bowls of oatmeal in the microwave and darted back to Kurt’s room to be sure he was getting dressed all right.
“I’m not a child, Rachel,” he snapped when she poked her head in. “It’s just going to take me a few minutes.”
“Your shirt’s on backwards,” she said, which was untrue, but she was gone before he figured it out. He deserved it for being so pessimistic when Mr. Schue could be here to rescue them by the end of the day.
She took Terri’s oatmeal in to her after she was sure there was enough sugar in it; Terri’s susceptibility to sweeteners outdid even her own, which was saying something. “What are we doing today?” she asked tentatively, looking at the wealth of crafting materials laid out around the living room.
“We’re going to get one hundred percent ready for your father,” Terri said. “I’m going to finish showing you how to make a skirt, so that you’ll have a pretty new pink one when he gets here. And your brother and I are going to bedazzle a Welcome Home sign for him.”
“That sounds great!” Rachel couldn’t think of a tactful way to ask for her “father’s” name, and retreated to the kitchen for the last bowl of oatmeal before she could say something that would get her smacked, or push Terri over into actually punishing her.
She hadn’t even been able to tell the body upstairs was a girl, it was so…
She looked up when Kurt reached the kitchen. “We’re crafting today,” she reported.
“Oh, joy.” Kurt reached one of the lawn chairs and clutched at it for balance, knuckles white. “Have you seen the gun?” he asked, almost mouthing.
Rachel shook her head rapidly, grabbing his oatmeal. “Shut up, no, but she has her purse with her, I don’t know -”
“She’s completely insane, Rachel, we have to try something -”
“Come on, kids, we don’t have all day!” Terri called, and Rachel slid under Kurt’s arm to support him.
“Coming!” she answered, and added in Kurt’s ear, “You can barely move and we still don’t know if you’re sick, stop making things worse.”
Terri greeted them with a smile and a kiss for Kurt, whom she set firmly on the sofa beside her. “I thought I’d put you in charge of the bedazzling, sweetie.” She handed over a bedazzler and a plastic case of assorted gems. “I have this sign all done, but it could use a little sparkle.” She produced a rolled length of canvas and spread it over the coffee table.
WELCOME HOME WILL, it said in bubble letters the size of Kurt’s hand.
Rachel made a quick, strangled noise and Kurt kicked her ankle, gasping when the movement redistributed his weight against his burned leg.
“I know you’re excited, but try to behave,” Terri said, going through the pile of cloth on her lap. “Rachel, come around here on my other side, and I’ll fit you for this skirt… then I’ll show you how to put it together with the sewing machine, okay?”
Kurt raised an eyebrow significantly at Rachel, who was staring ahead too intently to see him as she made her way over to Terri. He sighed. It was going to be a long morning.
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