Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

......

Finally, baby
The truth has been told
Now you tell me that I'm crazy
That's nothing that I didn't know 

Trying to survive
Oh, you say you love me, but you don't know 
You got me rockin' and a-reelin' 

Hey, you know what you do 
Oh, yeah, uh huh... I don't want to know 

Mr Schue applauds his students’ duet hesitantly along with the rest of the uncomfortable choir room full of gleeks after a stifling, tense performance from Finn and Quinn. 

He can’t quite keep up with all the changing dynamics of his choir sometimes, but he certainly recognizes trouble brewing when he sees it, especially with his male and female leads – and within this group, he sees it all too often. 

It’s pretty obvious even to the middle-aged choir director that Finn and Quinn are experiencing (yet another) dispute of some sort – which is honestly no surprise to him since it’s pretty obvious they are completely mismatched and wrong for each other in every possible way – singing included. And whatever trouble is brewing between them, it once again seems to involve his female lead, since Rachel is looking particularly miserable – but this too is no surprise to him. 

The harmony of his choir hasn’t been the same for months now, not since shortly after the Hudson-Hummel wedding. He glances at Rachel’s somber, disapproving face and sighs, then looks to the students still standing rigidly in front of him and does his best to project optimism. “Okay. Terrific job, guys. Uh, might want to try to smile a little bit more next time though.” 

Lift their spirits, encourage, bring out the best in them. That was his job, but they sure as hell didn’t make it easy. Quinn as a soloist had a nice voice, and it blended well in chorus with the group too, but it was certainly nothing compared to Rachel’s, and neither were her harmonies with Finn. He’d much prefer to pair Finn and Rachel for a duet like this, but had been warned by each of the two girls separately that maybe it was best for now if they avoided that arrangement. He wasn’t happy about it, though for the sake of keeping some modicum of harmony in the club he obliged. 

But then there were moments like this that made him wonder why he even bothered. He was sure trouble was coming when he saw the lightning flash in Rachel’s eyes as she started giving her special brand of feedback.

“Yeah, it was lovely. But I prefer Quinn's duet performance of Lucky with Sam better. Since you and Sam have become closer lately, maybe you should do duets together more often,” the petite brunette adds with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. 

Finn shares a knowing look of unity with Rachel. The pair had recently gone on a stakeout of a motel following rumors circulating in the school gossip column that Quinn and Sam might be on again – this time behind Finn’s back. 

Since their breakup last November (or December, depending which date you considered THE breakup), Finn and Rachel had been on a rocky path back to friendship. She’d apologized for the Puck thing, and he’d shirked off his role in their breakup over the Santana secret sex scandal thing, but stubbornly he continued to hold Rachel at arm’s length. Then he’d gotten that crazy fireworks fever thing over Quinn’s hallway kiss after the Titans won the championship and everything went wonky in his world. It’s almost like he was sucked backwards in a time warp and was reliving sophomore year, minus the whole baby thing. 

And just like last year, his head and his heart kept being tugged in the direction of that tiny brunette who’s dazzling vocals on her solo original song at regionals had held him spellbound and completely captivated. He’d long ago forgiven her, and he knew without question he still loved her. What he didn’t know is whether she’d forgiven him or still loved him the same (if she truly loved him in the first place, considering that she’d cheated on him), and whether HE was the best thing for HER. She was bound to be a big star, and he was...Finn. High school hero, life zero. So in his mind, for the time being at least, Quinn remained an easy (sort of) distraction from him having to sort out answers to those bigger questions. 

Regionals were nearly a month ago. Last year they didn’t even make it past regionals. This year they’d won and with nationals so close they could taste the victory; everyone was hungry for vindication. So too, it seems, is his blonde former-Cheerio girlfriend – but for different reasons. At the moment, she seemed to have a very particular ax to grind with her boyfriend’s ex. 

Quinn wasn’t about to take Rachel’s snarky feedback and implied indiscretions with Sam lying down so she snapped back at the tiny girl with acid in her nasally tone. “I know what you're doing. You just want Finn and I to stop singing together so that you can sing with him again.” 

Finn almost spoke up at that point. He was still a little hot under the collar over the thing with Quinn and Sam and the motel and sorta wanted to resume the conversation they’d been having about trust right before they sang that damn song together. He mentally slapped himself realizing just how much it really was like living sophomore year all over again, with him so frustrated about his blonde (cliche echoed in his mind) girlfriend, while Rachel and Quinn feuded – especially with Rachel (as always) taking up his defense. 

He didn’t mind singing with Quinn. In some ways it was easier than singing with Rachel. Vocally, he didn’t have to work so hard to keep up with Quinn, and Quinn was a little taller than Rachel which made for easier choreography. Also, he never gets lost in fantasy looking into those icy green eyes the way he does when staring into those bottomless melted chocolate ones. Looking into Quinn’s eyes he usually just sees the present and the girl, but with Rachel, he sees all these dreams and possibilities for their future together and it kinda freaks him out – but it also does things to his singing and somehow his harmonies just blend like magic with Rachel’s in a way they don’t with anyone else.

The more time he’d spent working with Rachel on her original song leading up to regionals, the more he’d been reminded that his feelings for her weren’t gone – in fact they were only amplifying with every minute they spent working together. Or speaking to each other. Or being anywhere in near proximity. Most especially, he still felt it every time he heard her sing; that hadn’t ever gone away. 

He missed singing with Rachel. A lot. 

Today singing that duet and gazing into those emerald orbs, Finn felt something though – and he was sure it wasn’t good news for Quinn. The difference between last year and this year is that Finn was no longer confused about his feelings for the smaller brunette. Not only did he know he loved her, but he knew exactly how much, and he knew just what it felt like to be loved back by Rachel. He kind of knew this thing with Quinn had an expiration date (which he figured was prom – he could at least hang in there and give Quinn that one night before he walked away... or, maybe he could hang in there that long; he was beginning to doubt it now). 

Rachel was zeroed in on her blonde target and she was not giving up yet. She was fighting for him – for them – with her trademark ferocity, one of the traits about Rachel Berry that Finn always loved the best. He decided he didn’t need to step in and help, at least not yet; he’d just enjoy the show for now. It wasn’t very often his HBIC girlfriend got put in the hot seat like this.

“Frankly, yes. Finn and I have amazing proven harmonies. And when it comes to Nationals, I think it makes more sense for him to be paired with me,” Rachel fired back, chin held high with an air of righteousness. She glanced at Finn and noticed him fighting a smirk of encouragement if not agreement. She knew the look of pride in his face when she saw it and knew that he supported her stance now. They were co-captains for a reason, after all. 

Plus, they’d been slowly repairing their friendship these past weeks, and Rachel thought they were getting close to a major breakthrough. Who knows, maybe there was even still hope for a Finchel comeback? Rachel certainly wanted to believe there was, and like she’d told Quinn weeks ago, she’d NEVER give up on Finn. Quinn could make all the pretty speeches she wanted about Finn marrying her and staying rooted to Lima forever, taking over Burt’s tire shop and raising a little blonde family together, but Rachel would never limit Finn’s potential or his future that way – whether she was to be a part of it or not. If that was the future Finn really wanted, Rachel would do her best to be happy for him, but she didn’t believe in the depths of her soul that it was.

“Well, it's not happening. Not as long as Finn wants to be with me,” Quinn responded with finality.

Finn’s head snapped to his blonde girlfriend upon hearing those words, his shocked cinnamon-brown eyes locking onto her cold green ones, clearly affronted by the ultimatum. “Wait. I thought you said this relationship was about trust?”

“Oh, I trust you. I just don't trust her,” Quinn huffed as she gestured toward the petite brunette still seated in the front row before them.

Mr Schue decided he needed to intervene before this little disagreement gained any more momentum and the others in the room started inevitably choosing sides. “Quinn, I don't think you can mandate who pairs up for Nationals, alright? Vocal Adrenaline doesn't need any help from us.” 

If he were a more authoritative and consistent teacher his words might have actually made a difference. But they weren’t because he wasn’t, and the blonde was set in her resolve. 

Responding to Mr Schue but still locking eyes with Rachel, Quinn answered, “I love being here, and I want to win, but my relationship comes first. I'm sorry,” she turns to face her boyfriend who’s still looking back at her in disbelief, “but Finn, if you want to be with me, no more songs with her.”

“What?!” Finn shouts. “Quinn that’s CRAP. You can’t mean–”

Rachel stands up and interrupts her once boyfriend now friend. “Oh Finn, I’m positive she DOES mean it. It’s clear that she feels threatened, not only by her own lack of contentment in her relationship with you, but also by me and the power of the musical chemistry you and I share. Isn’t that right, Quinn?” With a hand on her hip, Rachel turns to face Quinn, determined to stand her ground against the blonde for once. “Because after all, if you truly believed your own words that you trust Finn, it shouldn’t matter what I say or do, or whether or not he and I sing together. If you really trust him as you say, then you’d know he wouldn’t stray from you no matter what... 

“Then again, he already DOES have a track record of straying from you, doesn’t he? And this little mandate you’re trying to lay down is just another way you choose to exercise control over him, rather than allowing him the freedom to follow his own heart – just like you’ve ALWAYS done, because you’re afraid his heart isn’t completely yours. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But if it’s not, then you should want to set him free and let him find his happiness – if you genuinely cared for him. But you don’t actually care about his happiness do you? You only care about your own.” 

Quinn steps closer to Rachel, refusing to back down. “Listen, MAN HANDS, I’m not going through this again with you! The nature of my relationship with Finn – now, just like last year – is still none of your business! In fact, FINN is none of your business anymore, and he hasn’t been ever since you chose to CHEAT on him as revenge for doing something he was perfectly within his rights to do at the time!” 

“Really, Quinn? You really want to talk about which of the two of us is the bigger cheater in the room?”

There was a collecting gasp-slash-groan in the room. Quinn took another step toward Rachel with fire in her eyes knowing exactly what the brunette was implying. “Look, I know I made a mistake last year when I let Puck get me drunk and take advantage of me–”

“Whoa whoa whoa! You were a willing participant, honey! The Puckasaurus ain’t down with date rape,” Puck defended.

“–but I never chose to purposefully hurt Finn the way you did. That was pretty low, even for someone as crazy, self-centered and inconsiderate as you,” Quinn retorted, unaffected by Puck’s comments.

“No? That’s very interesting. So, you DIDN’T purposefully tell Finn he fathered your illegitimate child borne of an adulterous carnal relationship with his best friend and perpetuate said LIE for, what was it, four months? Five?--” 

“C’mon Berry, chill, that’s my kid too y’know,” Puck warned quietly as Finn glowered at him.

“ –all the while, you guilted, bullied and berated him into supporting YOU financially and emotionally, never mind the thoughtless treatment of said child’s ACTUAL father and whatever feelings HE may have had!” Rachel continued her tirade, but Quinn was unfazed.

“Maybe if you weren’t so busy trying to steal Finn away like a pathetic little tramp, I wouldn’t have ended up turning to another guy. Maybe if you hadn’t interfered with us in the first place we’d have stayed together all this time! But for you to manage to win him over somehow – despite the INSURMOUNTABLE odds against you, and then PURPOSEFULLY hurt him and throw him away out of spite, I think it’s clear you never deserved him in the first place and ultimately karma bit you in the ass! For all your holier than thou attitude and grandiosity, you’re nothing but a clueless, heartless hypocrite in the end. God knows Finn can and surely HAS done better than you. He’s back on top where he belongs now, and if YOU cared for him, you wouldn’t be back to square one acting like this desperate drooling little schoolgirl with an unrequited crush.”

Rachel’s face falls, etched with sorrow and regret. She avoids looking at Finn in favor of shifting her eyes anywhere else in the room, but didn’t drop the conviction in her tone. “Yes. You’re right. I intentionally hurt Finn, and that was my mistake. One I’ll regret forever, but also one for which I have repeatedly apologized and tried to make amends. Can you say the same? Have you ever even apologized to him for trying to TRAP him last year with a baby that wasn’t his? Or for having sex with his best friend and lying about everything for MONTHS? For guilting and shaming him into paying YOUR medical bills and taking advantage of his mother as well when you had nowhere else to live? 

“At least I was honest and told him the truth about my mistake immediately, because while I may have made an error in judgment and acted out impulsively, I recognized my folly and at least tried to make it right again. For better or worse, I owned the error of my ways... and it cost me dearly. It cost me everything,” she adds softly as she chances a look up into Finn’s now sad amber eyes, startled to see how regretful he looks as well. “But I also learned from it and know I would never repeat that mistake again. Can you say the same? 

“Or maybe we should ask Sam just how much you’ve learned, considering you were off sneaking around kissing Finn while still wearing Sam’s promise ring. But it’s okay, Quinn. You win again, like you always do. I know how important winning and ‘being on top’ is... to both of you. All I ask is... Just take better care of him than I did. And if you really are sneaking around with Sam or anyone else, have the decency to tell him yourself this time. He deserves that much,” as her eyes well up with unshed tears, Rachel looks at Finn once more. “We’ve both hurt him enough. He deserves better than that – from both of us.”

With that, Rachel storms out of the choir room, leaving behind a slack-jawed Finn and a stunned silent audience of gleeks who’d been watching the entire drama play out in front of them. 

Finn calls after Rachel once, but she keeps going. He turns back to his girlfriend, seething with anger and disappointment. “Well that’s really great, Quinn. Did you have to say all that stuff and make her cry? You had NO right and NO reason to throw her mistake up in her face like that since – as you put it – what happened between me and Rachel a few months ago was none of YOUR business either!” 

“C’mon Finn, don’t give me that! She started it! And you KNOW she’s just trying to come between us again, just like she did last year. I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised that you’d be defending her now. Are you really going to let her do this to us yet again? Because I won’t just sit idly by and let it happen a second time. You’re either in this with me or you’re not.”

“Y’know what Quinn? Rachel made a few really good points. She was honest with me when she didn’t need to be. If she hadn’t told me the truth about her and Puck I might not have ever known. But she came clean and told me everything up front – just like SHE was the only one to tell me the truth about YOU and the baby last year. And she’s also right that you never DID apologize for any of that shit from last year either. You’ve never owned up to your part in things.”

“Finn, that isn’t fair! We talked about our issues from last year, and–”

“Yeah. You said you regretted giving up your virginity so soon, that you regretted believing an idiot and having unprotected sex and letting Puck get you knocked up–”

“Once again, HEY – still sittin’ here y’know, dipwad!” Puck complains, but seeing the look on Finn’s face immediately recoils.

“– but in all those regrets you listed, not any of them were regrets for hurting ME, or actual apologies for what you did wrong to ME or for how I felt after you wrecked my life and my mom’s life for like five months letting us both think I was gonna be a dad! You caused way more damage than just a failed relationship with me last year, Quinn. You took away a grandchild from my mom, a kid I thought would be MINE in the world, wherever she ended up. You took away a LOT of my trust in people too.” Chancing a glance at Puck, he adds “You BOTH did for a long time. It was Rachel who helped me get over most of that.”

Quinn’s jaw clenches as she quietly asks “Do we really need to vent all of our dirty laundry here in font of everyone, Finn? This conversation should be tabled until it can be held in private.”

“Why the hell should we, huh? What privacy do we have left anyway?” He gestures wildly around the room as he continues “They already know all our business now, just like they did last year. You sure as hell didn’t do a very good job keeping it a secret from anyone – except me and Rachel. Everyone else knew you were screwing around behind my back last year, and they all seem to be pretty damn suspicious that you’re doing it again with Sam now, so–”

Sam jumped out of his seat in his own defense. “Finn, I swear man, we’re not! And seriously, this is all pretty funny coming from YOU of all people, you who stole Quinn away from ME with your cheating kissing, and that stupid kissing booth and secret rendezvous in the gym apparently. I knew that stupid gumball story sounded fishy anyway. So maybe you should just–”

* * * BANG! . . . BANG! BANG! * * * 

The argument in the choir room was stopped dead in its tracks by loud noises that sounded an awful lot like gunshots, along with distant screams ringing out from down the hallway. The two battling boys who were still on their feet jumped then ducked and the entire roomful of gleeks was suddenly awash in stupefied silence.

. . . . .

tbc...

SONG CREDIT:
I Don't Wanna Know by Fleetwood Mac as performed by Finn & Quinn [gag - although the performance in the show was entertaining and a fine duet, but still. gag.]

STORY TITLE CREDIT:
Taken from the Fleetwood Mac song of the same name.

GO YOUR OWN WAY appears on their RUMORS album, released Feb 4, 1977.

SIX songs from the album were featured in Glee Season 2 eps 19 'RUMORS' which aired just over 14 years ago, on May 3, 2011: Dreams, Never Going Back Again, I Don't Want to Know, Go Your Own Way, and Don't Stop.

Chapter Text

The choir room and everyone in it froze in silence for a beat before Mr Schue jumped into action.

Mr Schue stage whispered to the group “LOCKDOWN everyone, NOW! You all know the drill... Spread out, hide, stay silent!” 

As Mr Schue scrambled toward one of the two choir room doors to close and lock it, Mike moved to lock the other one, and Puck ran into Mr Schue’s adjoining office, locking that door and pulled the blinds shut in all the windows that looked out into the hall. He returned to the choir room and closed the office door as Mr Schue and Sam pushed a large filing cabinet in front of it.

While the four of them scrambled to seal the doorways, the rest of the gleeks scattered to the room’s perimeter. Quinn clung to Finn’s arm as he dragged them both behind the drum kit against the wall in the corner. Artie, Tina and Mercedes huddled behind the large bank of speakers, both girls muffling their cries in silent tears while helping Artie out of his wheelchair to lower ground on the floor with them. Mike quickly joined them and held Tina reassuringly to his chest.

Kurt and Puck dove behind the piano and up against the bookcase with Mr Schue. Sam, Britt, Santana and Lauren all cowered behind the extra stacks of chairs behind the band’s makeshift stage area. 

After a few seconds, Mr Schue stood up partway to see all his kids, then whispered “Everyone stay quiet. If you have a phone, start texting. Tell everyone what’s happening but DON’T say where we are inside this building... the shooter could have a smartphone too, and we don’t want them to know where to find us. Just stay where you are, stay down, and... and I love you guys.”

Finn grabbed his phone from his back pocket and texted his mom first, nervously tapping out a brief message reading shooter at school call cops. safe 4now love u. It took him a few tries since his fingers were trembling so hard. He looked across the room and his eyes met Kurt’s tear-filled ones. He knew his stepbrother would be texting his dad, but it occurred to him that Blaine would be at the top of his priority list. 

Blaine was still safe at Dalton though, far from this danger – but he could see the fear in Kurt’s eyes and knew he needed to let him know he was okay for now, and that he’d want just one more chance to see and talk to his boyfriend.

Finn could relate to the almost pleading look on Kurt’s face, knowing his own must mirror that same look of desperation. As he watched his brother across the room helplessly, something warm and wet was dripping on his hands and took him a moment to realize it was his own tears. His heart clenched as if in the grip of a steel vice realizing there was only one other person Finn wished he could talk to right now apart from his mom, and that person was no longer in the choir room. 

SHIT.

Flipping through his contact list, he immediately found her name and hit the call button. He just needed to find out where she was and whether she was safe. 

As soon as the call began ringing on the line in his ear, the muffled sound of a ringtone he knew all too well – My Man – was chiming from the pink backpack still sitting on the floor by the chair Rachel had been seated in before she left the room. He hadn’t known she’d never changed the personal ringtone for him on her phone. He remembered the day they picked that ringtone together and the make-out session that followed it. His chest swelled with emotion that soon balled up like a fist in his throat at the thought that she’d never changed it yet. She still loves me.

When they were still a couple, they used to text each other little love notes or words of encouragement all day long even if they were in the same class or right next to each other, but sometimes they’d even do that at home while they were studying together. She managed to set that ringtone for his incoming texts too (something he didn’t even know could be done) and that’s the last time he’d remembered hearing it. But here it was again filling the space around him in the middle of a crisis. 

Terror suddenly rippled through him listening to it now, knowing Rachel had left the choir room but left her phone behind and had no way to call for help. “Oh god, no...” he mumbled under his breath.

Quinn grabbed his arm and snapped him out of his panicked reverie when she asked “Is that Rachel’s phone? Are you calling her?” She looked at her stoic boyfriend and the phone now gripped in his white-knuckled hand, the display on the screen showing Rachel’s image and the call still ringing. 

Barbra’s powerful vocals continued to fill the otherwise silent room as Quinn scolded him in a disapproving hushed tone, “Finn stop it, hang up NOW! The noise is just going to draw attention to us in here! You’re gonna get us all killed!”

Finn shook his arm loose from Quinn’s icy cold grip – one he was sure matched her heart at that moment. “Are you serious, Quinn?! She could be in danger out there, or hurt, and sh- she doesn’t even have her phone with her to call for help!” He quietly sneered through gritted teeth. 

The blonde sighed, brushing unshed tears from her lashes and her expression softened a little. Of course she wasn’t heartless and decided it was in everyone’s best interest to at least attempt to offer her boyfriend a little reassurance about Rachel’s safety before he completely lost his cool and jeopardized all of them. 

“Finn, I’m sure she’s fine. She’s so small, there’s a million places she could easily hide and never be seen,” Quinn breathed out even as he moved from a sitting position to all fours and headed toward Rachel’s backpack. Once there he fished her phone out and noticed her car keys were still in the front pouch where she kept them.

As Mr Schue crouched behind the piano, the movement he could see from under it across the room caught his eye. He looked up to see Finn crawling toward him on his hands and knees, moving across the middle of the room. 

Mr Schue did his best with hushed whispers and hand gestures to try and stop the tall teen and send him back to his place of safety, but the boy kept crawling until he was right next to his teacher. 

“Finn, what are you doing? You have to stay down and hidden!” he whispered, feeling frazzled himself. These kids were HIS responsibility after all, and he couldn’t bear the thought of any one of them being put in harm’s way.

Finn disregarded his teacher’s quiet scolding, his eyes now flickering between Mr Schue and the nearest exit door. “But Rachel’s not in here, Mr Schue! She’s out there somewhere by herself and she left her bag here with her phone! I need to go find her!” Finn whisper-yelled at his teacher, the strain and distress evident in his voice. 

As he made to stand up, Mr Schue gripped his shoulders, keeping him low to the floor. 

“No Finn, I’m sorry but you can’t leave this room... I’m sure Rachel’s fine; she knows the safety drills for this too, probably well enough to teach them. She probably either already left campus when she stormed out or- or if she was still here, I’m sure she heard the sounds and is hiding by now.”

Finn shook his head in protest, glassy eyes begging for his mentor to hear him as he waved the pink bedazzled phone in the air. “NO! She left her bag here with her phone and her car keys! Mr Schue, you don’t understand! She’s too little, too defenseless, and she scares too easily! She freezes up and doesn’t think straight. She doesn’t know how to stay calm when she’s scared like that, and she was already upset and crying when she left outta here– a-and now she doesn’t even have a way to call for help. I have to go find her! I have to–”

“Shh, NO! Finn, I’m sorry but you need to just calm down and wait this out. Wait for us to get an all-clear before we open these doors! The authorities have surely been alerted by now. You KNOW the drill Finn, we’ve had periodic active shooter drills for exactly this reason. No one in, no one out. I’m worried about Rachel too, but I’m also responsible for the safety of everyone in this room, so we all have to stay put!”

Quinn tearfully whispered across the room, pleading “Finn! Please come back and sit with me! I’m scared; I need you! She’ll be okay, she’s too stubborn to let anyone hurt her like that.”

Finn peeked over his shoulder with little more than a sideways glance at Quinn. He felt like she was safer in this room with this group of people than Rachel was if she was still out in the hallway or a restroom on her own. 

What if Rachel was trapped in a bathroom with no escape and the shooter found her? What if the shooter took her hostage already? What if... ssssomething worse? He didn’t want to even consider it.

And then more shots rang out in the hallway and his stomach dropped again. 

No, no way. He wasn’t leaving Rachel out there alone like a lamb for the slaughter.

Finn looked Mr Schue in the eye with deadly resolve. “I’M GOING AND YOU CAN’T STOP ME!” he spat thru gritted teeth, tears now spilling freely from his eyes. 

Finn shot upright headed for the exit door and heard Quinn crying and softly calling for him. Mercedes scooted over to Quinn and held her tightly trying to keep the blonde calm and quiet while Mr Schue and Puck both tackled Finn. 

Puck held both of Finn’s arms behind him in a wrestling hold and Mr Schue gripped the tall boy’s shoulders, standing in his path to the door and speaking firmly but quietly in Finn’s ear, “I know how you feel about her but you're putting everyone in this room in danger, Finn! Calm down, just sit and be patient! Help is coming, let the authorities handle this!”

Finn stopped fighting them for a moment and a sob choked from his lips. He seemed to know on some level his teacher was right. He wasn’t armed, had no weapons or way to protect himself or anyone else so what use would he be against a crazy person with a gun?

He surrendered for just that moment, and with Puck pulling him down, he sank to the floor in anguish. As he sat there miserably, knees bent, elbows resting on top of them and clutching at his hair, all he could picture was Rachel being held at gunpoint. Rachel being taken hostage. Rachel being shot... 

That last image was the tipping point. No, he didn’t want to endanger his other friends in this room, but he wasn’t going to accept that he just had to sit and wait and do NOTHING. 

Rachel needed help. She was potentially in harm’s way, completely defenseless, and nothing was going to stop him from getting to her. Maybe he wasn’t armed, but he was a big strong guy. If nothing else, he could buy her some time to get out of a sticky situation. As the very worst-case scenario, if he couldn’t be her sword he could at least be her shield. If it came to it, he’d gladly take a bullet aimed at her if meant she survived – and Rachel HAS to survive. But if she was already hurt, every second that ticked by mattered.

They say when you’re close to death, your life flashes before your eyes. He figured this situation counted as that. The images Finn was seeing from the moment those shots rang out in the hall were making him sick with grief and desperation. Images of happier times with Rachel. He loved her – he LOVES her with everything he has. He’s always felt some strange draw into her orbit and no matter how many times he’s tried to fight it he loses. The pull is too strong. 

And right now that deep connection he feels to her is calling out, beckoning him toward her. He’d screwed up too many times with Rachel in the past. He’d never been the white knight in all the times she needed him to be before. He remembers when he’d finally looked up the word chivalry after she’d said it to him so many times, and he knew he was never chivalrous enough when it counted the most. 

When he thought of all the times she was insulted by Santana or Quinn and never spoke up in her defense, or all the times she’d been slushied by the hockey team, but he never went after the guys who bullied her or did more to put a stop to it, he was ashamed of himself. He wanted to kick Jesse St Jackass in the nads in the worst way for egging her and humiliating her the way he had last year. Even though Mr Schue talked him off that ledge, he and Puck still almost ended up arrested or expelled in the name of revenge. This situation was a million times more terrifying though, and he still could only think of helping Rachel, of finally getting it right with her.

In the months he and Rachel had been apart, he'd thought about all the ways he'd failed her and added to her insecurities, and he wondered why she ever wanted to be with him at all. He didn't feel worthy of her then and knew he hadn't earned her unwavering trust or belief in him. Despite their messy painful breakup, he always believed deep in his heart he'd get that second chance to prove himself to her someday... But what if there weren't any more tomorrows? What if his chances at someday ended TODAY?

Finn could feel the bubble of adrenaline and resolve boiling under his skin the more he thought about their situation. Yes, he was scared, but his fear wasn’t for himself. It was for that bright beacon of light who brought more joy to his soul than he could’ve ever imagined possible. Yes, she’d hurt him worse than anyone else could, but that’s only because he loved her that much. He’d allowed his heart to be that vulnerable and to beat for only one person – and in this very moment, he knew it still did. It was still beating for that small powerhouse of a girl who loved him so completely and unconditionally and made everything in his life better just with one look or one beaming white smile or one song. 

He could die today. Rachel could die today, and if she did, she could die alone without ever knowing how he’s long ago forgiven her, or how much he still loves her, or how she still means the world to him. She would never know that he wanted nothing more than to have a future with her because she was THE ONE. She needs to know, they’re supposed to get married and raise their kids in New York, enjoy their grandkids, retire and grow old together, just like they talked about at his mom’s wedding. They were supposed to have their happily ever after someday. They were supposed to have more time to get it right. 

But now it felt like time was running out.

Finally he knew there was only one choice he could make: if today was all there was, he was gonna go out proving himself to Rachel if it was the last thing he did. 

He pulled himself back up to his feet and felt Puck and Mr Schue trying to restrain him again. As he struggled against them and shouted for them to let him go, Puck’s hand clamped over  his mouth. Adrenaline surged through his body, and he felt like he could lift ten linebackers at once. Finn didn’t think twice about it, he simply bit down hard on Puck’s hand drawing blood and shoved Mr Schue with the same force he used on the football field, knocking him back against the wall as he broke free and made his way to the door. Before Mr Schue or Puck could recover, he already had the door unlocked and was out in the hallway.

Finn heard the choir room door close and lock again behind him at the same time he heard Quinn scream his name, but that was the last of his concerns. They’d all be safer in there together – at least, as safe as any of them could be; right now he needed to know Rachel was safe too. 

He crouched a little and kept his eyes peeled for signs of movement or anyone else around, either in the hallway or in each classroom he passed. Some of the doors were closed, others were still wide open. 

Finn moved swiftly with purpose, knowing that if Rachel was in fact still on school property and had just run off to calm down after her storm out, there were only a few places she might be holed up. He HOPED she wasn’t in the girls bathroom somewhere, that would be far too closed off and she’d be a sitting duck in such a small space with only one way in and out. 

Still, his first stop was to the ladies room closest to the choir room. He cautiously pushed the door open as quietly as he could, whispering her name. “Rach? Rachel, are you in here? It’s Finn, answer me if you’re here? Rach?” 

Getting no reply, he walked all the way into the room, making sure to check each stall but thankfully finding nothing and no one. Well, at least she wasn’t a fish in a barrel in there, but that meant she was somewhere else and possibly still in danger.

He continued onward, repeating his duck-and-run moves through the hall and whispering her name in each new room he was able to check. The three open classrooms he searched were also empty including the supply closets. The janitor’s closet in the next wing over only contained mops and cleaning supplies.  

He worked his way toward the auditorium, passing the cafeteria and the library on the way. He could tell there were students in there but both rooms were on total lockdown and there was no way to check inside them without creating a lot of noise. He decided against that idea in case the shooter was nearby or somehow locked in there with them.

Finally he made it to the auditorium. He peeked through the narrow glass window of the theater entrance doors and saw someone sitting on a stool center stage. He was sure it had to be Rachel; nobody else ever used the auditorium at this hour except the Glee club and occasionally the Jazz band if there was an assembly or some kind of upcoming music event. He breathed a small sigh of relief and reached for the handle of the door as he felt the cold steel of a gun barrel push into the center of his back. 

“Not one word, Hudson.”

. . . . . 

tbc...

Chapter Text

Rachel ran straight to the girl’s restroom trying to fight off the tears that wouldn’t stop stinging her eyes, but it was useless. 

She was so sick of this. Why did Quinn always have to win? Wasn’t it enough that she was the prettiest and the most popular? Wasn’t it enough that she had Finn? Her Finn. Well, he used to be hers... But she’s gone and mucked that up pretty good and now it seemed there was no coming back from her mistakes. Still. Did Quinn really have to twist the knife in deeper?

When Rachel brought Finn that copy of the Muckraker with the article that suggested Quinn was sneaking around with Sam, she genuinely thought she was doing the right thing as a concerned friend, just as she’d done last year over the pregnancy scandal. It was the right thing to do, after all. She would look out for her best friend – that is, if Finn was still considered her best friend? Well, he’s at least her friend. And the love of her life. But even a lost love deserves to know if his current girlfriend is a THREE times cheater and liar, doesn’t he?

He seemed to take the news of these rumors more in stride than he took last year’s news. (He certainly seemed to take this far better than HER confession about kissing Puck and she can’t lie; it stung. OF COURSE he’d be more inclined to hear Quinn out and let HER explain herself and forgive HER transgressions, real or imagined.) 

So of course Quinn had denied the cheating. Just like she denied her cheating ways to SAM with that ridiculous choking on a gumball excuse. The audacity of that girl! And that FINN went along with such a ridiculous story or would even have the NERVE to be part of a cheating scandal against Sam! Who was he becoming?? Maybe her Finn was so lost now because SHE broke him. Would she ever get HER Finn back or was the damage she’d caused so irreversible that he was lost forever?

How could he believe Quinn anyway? Finn and Rachel had both SEEN Sam and Quinn together, hugging at that motel with their own eyes! That was unmistakably what they saw, so something must be going on between those two! Yet somehow the former Cheerio had her talons sunk into Finn so deeply that he was willing to believe her lies once again, despite what his own eyes were telling him.

Yes he’d seemed pretty irked over the possibility that he was once again being cheated on, but he didn’t react the way she’d expected. Last time she’d been the bearer of these kinds of bad tidings he’d charged into that choir room like a raging bull and pummeled Noah then broke up with Quinn very publicly. Perhaps his more subdued response this time was a sign of him maturing, reigning in his impulses... or perhaps it was that he didn’t have all the facts yet and was reserving judgment. (Or maybe it was just QUINN and the hold she still had on him; he’d rather give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, you can forgive your first love anything, right?)

The day she showed him the Mudraker, Finn had surprised her later in the evening though. She never expected to receive a call asking for her help to go on that stakeout with him. For just a moment she thought maybe there was some other motive in his request. The very fact that he asked her to go with him at all was pretty shocking. She hesitated for just a moment but who was she fooling? As if she could ever say no to him.

It had been the first time in months they’d been alone in such close quarters like that. Being so close to him but not being able to be the kind of close she wanted was torture. All these weeks and months apart hadn’t done anything but amplify her feelings of attraction and endearment. She missed him so much it physically hurt. His smell was completely intoxicating and more than once it took all her strength to not try to kiss him. Or to say something related to the state of their relationship... but surprisingly FINN was the one who made a reference to what it was like when they’d dated. 

Well, that is, he compared her to Quinn and acknowledged how he never had to guess how she was feeling about him when they dated. She’d taken it as a compliment (and by his slightly regretful tone, maybe even a sign of enlightenment on his part, that maybe he was finally noticing what he’d been missing).

At one point his hand rested on her knee the way he’d always done when they sat close like that in his truck – probably out of old habits – but he immediately pulled it away again after just a few seconds, clearly embarrassed by the slip up. She smiled weakly at him and said it wasn’t a big deal, but the truth was, her body went up in flames at his touch. She missed him so damn much... didn’t he know? Didn’t he feel it too? 

He must have. She thought he did. There was the glimmer of a certain familiar twinkle in his eye when he looked at her, even before the accidental knee groping, one that she hadn’t seen in a long time. One she recognized well from when they dated and were so in love since it was a constant back then. It was there again in the truck too, if only in small flashes when he looked at her. Maybe some part of him really was trying to forgive and forget, to make room for her in his heart again. But as long as there was a Quinn Fabray shaped WALL blocking them Rachel didn’t see how they’d ever get the chance to even try again.

Despite every fiber in her being willing her to throw herself at him, she resisted. After everything she’d been through with this boy – especially in recent history, she’d learned to temper her overzealousness and impulsivities. Those knee-jerk reactions of hers usually only ever got her into trouble and often led to his complete withdrawal. And things were just lately getting back to normal for them.

For weeks now they’d been talking again. Their friendship once again felt almost as comfortable as it had been last year before all the baby scandal news blew up. They were friends now. But she knew just friends would never be enough for her now; she’d known what it was like to love and be loved by Finn Hudson and wanted it back so much – at least as much as she wanted to play Maureen or Elphaba on a grand stage. 

Rachel sighed thinking about how she ended up like this. Jilted by the one boy she loves above everyone and everything else. She’s had to live with her regret so long it’s become a constant companion; one she really wished she could let go of. She should have just given herself time to process learning about Finn sleeping with Santana all those months ago, should have waited to have a conversation with him when cooler heads prevailed. She should have NEVER listened to NOAH of all people! Good with boyfriend troubles her Aunt Fanny. He was certainly good at destroying Finn’s life – and now hers too, so it seemed. 

She shook her head as that last thought crossed her mind. No. She couldn’t blame it all on Noah. Yes, he sort of opened a door but she willingly walked through it – even dragged him in with her, if she’s being completely honest. She didn’t even BLINK before her lips were attached to his. He was so stunned by her forwardness he couldn’t even kiss her back at first. But the moment her lips touched his, it was like that montage of life scene at the end of the Twilight Breaking Dawn movie, where a barrage of images of her and Finn was unleashed, playing out in slow motion. Every duet, every shared secret smile, every kiss, every stolen moment of happiness, it flashed in technicolor in her mind, and being with Noah in that moment was the greatest sin she’d ever committed. The worst betrayal against the boy she loved so dearly. 

What the hell was she thinking?

Well, clearly she wasn’t, and therefore had erred in ways she would never have predicted herself capable. It’s no wonder Finn broke up with her. She deserved to be toppled from that perch in his heart. Still, when reexamining their relationship as a whole and not just by the sum of its parts, he was no saint either. They’d both made stupid mistakes from the very beginning, and she hoped with enough time he could forgive hers the way she ALWAYS forgave his.

To that end, she’d been giving him time and space to hopefully, eventually, figure out how much he missed her too, to realize how much he still loves her. To figure out how right they were for each other... that they still ARE. 

But now his space was seemingly permanently occupied by another blonder tenant. All that space was doing for Rachel was suffocate her hope and snuff out her dreams. Despite her impassioned proclamations to Quinn Fabray in the auditorium prior to regionals about never giving up on Finn, some days she wondered if it was even worth hanging onto those old feelings at all. Finn seemed in no hurry to change anything between them, and why should he? He was back at the top of the food chain, dating the pretty popular blonde girl who despite her own fall from grace, managed to still retain her power in the school (and her command over Finn Hudson’s heart). 

Rachel decided in the midst of today’s argument with Quinn – the one where Finn once again sat along the sidelines like a spectator and said nothing in her defense – that maybe it was simply time to just move on. Finn was clearly in love with his current girlfriend, at least enough to believe whatever garbage she fed him or to forgive her for any and all sins no matter what the truth might be. And now with Quinn’s prohibition of her and Finn ever singing duets again and his apparent lack of willingness to fight for them? Rachel thought he’d never felt more far away from her reach than he did in that moment of inaction. 

It seemed Rachel was helpless against the puppet master and Finn would rather have his strings pulled and guided by Quinn Fabray than march to his beat the way she’d always encouraged him to do and believed he’d wanted. 

After all, he stood there and said NOTHING as the ex-Cheerio laid down her ultimatum, so it seemed Quinn won again and maybe she always would. Maybe Quinn’s prophecy in her little speech in the auditorium that day would come to fruition after all. Quinn gets Finn and Rachel gets heartbroken. Again. 

Rachel had poured her heart and soul into writing that original song for Finn for regionals, hoping it would make a difference, believing he would hear the message, understand its deeper meaning and at least forgive her, then MAYBE someday (soon) he’d want to give them another try. 

Yet despite pouring every ounce of love, regret and sincerity into that performance, he’d said nothing about it afterwards. All she got from him was a hug during their victory lap on stage, then a text later that night saying how much he really liked her song and how amazing she’d sounded. No impassioned request to talk it over, no phone calls proclaiming his deep understanding of her lyrical intent, no Finn in her driveway or ringing her doorbell calling her to come out for a romantic reunion with epic gestures of his eternal love.... Because, she concluded, his love was once again directed to a 5’5” blonde former head cheerleader. His first love. 

And Rachel loses, again.

Well, enough of that. Rachel Berry may have lost the battle, but she was NOT a loser. Enough pining for the impossible. Enough tears shed for her broken heart and love lost. Seems she’d finally found a hurdle she couldn’t overcome with sheer will and determination. Perhaps Quinn was right; if Rachel never interfered from the start maybe they WOULD have stayed together all along. 

She stared at her tear-stained reflection in the mirror, dried her eyes and held her chin high. At this moment, all Rachel could do was put faith in the wise words of Celine and hope that her heart really would go on. Nobody would ever understand or appreciate her for something more than her voice the way she’d thought Finn once had, but maybe she’d been wrong about that too. Maybe he was just infatuated for a while and had gotten over it. Maybe she’d imagined the depths of his love for her and maybe all she was to him was an incredible talent.

Rachel decided she would go to the auditorium and sing her pain out through one last moving ballad dedicated to the final death of Finchel, then it would be over. Perhaps one day she’d revisit this struggle while writing her memoirs. Perhaps these heartaches and hardships would fuel her eventual grammy-winning songwriting. Finn told her to live a little and she knew that living would ultimately bring pain, but that pain could be channeled into something productive if she let it. Until then, she would focus on bootstrapping her way to Broadway – alone, if that’s what fate held for her – and apparently it was. The broken songbird in the gilded cage, bound to be admired but never truly loved.

She used a cool, damp paper towel to clear her face, took a few cleansing breaths and nodded to herself in the mirror then headed out of the restroom for the auditorium. 

She didn’t get very far down the hall and round the corner before she realized she wasn’t alone.

“Rachel Berry, hello my goddess. Wherever are you off to in such a hurry?”

Rachel winced at the nasally whining ramblings of the soft-footed boy following so closely behind her. She paused, cringing with her back still facing the boy attached to the voice. The too-familiar sound of his inhaler as he wheezed a puff from it made her skin crawl. The smell of Aqua Velva, Clearasil and onions filtered into her nose long before the sight of his cloud-like fluffy hair and large rimmed black glasses reached her eyes.

“Jacob, why are you following me? AGAIN? I’ve asked you repeatedly not to do that. You startled me. I’m not up for an interview or anything right now, so perhaps you could just—”

“Oh darling, Rachel, my sweet angel. I’m not interested in an interview right now. Not unless you’re willing to give me an exclusive... But no, I simply couldn’t help but notice how distraught you appeared to be just now before you entered the ladies room and thought you could use a friendly shoulder to lean on. They may not be as tall or broad as a quarterback’s, but they’re still yours; all you have to do is take them.”

The idea of leaning on anything attached to this boy revolted her. She’d rather be submerged in a vat of centipedes or fire ants than allow his clammy, slimy paws to touch her. “Well, thank you but I’m.. I-I’m just fine. Or I will be. Thank you for your concern though, Jacob, really. Now if you’ll excuse me, I just need to be by myself for a while.”

“I’ll escort you. A lovely, vulnerable young ingénue such as yourself shouldn’t be left to her own devices, unattended, especially while in such a heightened emotional state. Finn Hudson may not be man enough to care for your emotional well-being anymore, but I am. Or, I could be, if you’d allow me.”

Gross. The very idea he was more man than Finn? Just, ew, NO, and the thought of him getting any closer made her stomach roll. 

“N-no, really Jacob that isn’t necessary, I’ll be just fine. I’m only headed to the auditorium, you know, for Glee practice. And we’re at school after all, what on earth could possibly happen here?”

“I’ll tell ya what could happen,” a snarling male voice interrupted. A large figure dressed all in black wearing a ski mask over his face appeared suddenly from around a corner in the hallway, startling the pair of now petrified teens. “You could get yourself shot, that’s what.”

Rachel gasped and froze stock still as she noticed the gleam of the shiny handgun gripped in the man’s right hand. Jacob turned to face the burly figure clad in black from head to toe. His staccato intake of breath did little to promote his bravado, but he puffed his wheezing chest out as best he could in a show of bravery.

“Wh-who are you?! You just leave us alone right now! This is school property and - and you can’t hurt us! Rachel is a sweet innocent, and I won’t let you harm a hair on her beautiful head! You’ll have to go through me to get to her!” Jacob said boldly as he nervously thrust himself between Rachel and the large dark figure.

The masked man shrugged nonchalantly, tilting his head to the right almost low enough to touch his shoulder. “Fine, have it your way,” then fired a round from the 500 Smith & Wesson Magnum gripped at the end of his extended arm. 

Rachel and a few straggler students in the hall a short distance away from them screamed in horror as she watched Jacob’s chest explode in front of her, his body dropping to the floor instantly with a thud. 

As a dark red pool bloomed out from under Jacob’s limp, twitching body, Rachel wanted to turn to run but fear rooted her to her spot. Just when she finally found the wherewithal to move at all, the shooter fired two more shots in quick succession into the air. “Hold it right there, Berry! Where the hell do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you yet!”

I know that voice, Rachel thought to herself. She didn’t dare say it out loud though, she was too terrified to speak, or even to breathe at this point. As the masked madman approached her and grabbed her by the arm, she quivered and felt her knees about to buckle. Her heartbeat galloped in her ears and all she could think of was her dads ...and Finn. 

“Pl-please, y-you don’t h-have to do this! Y-you could leave now, and I w-wouldn’t say a word! I d-don’t even know who you are, so you c-could just–”

“Aw, can-it. As if we both don’t know, you know exactly who I am, so you know exactly why I can’t let you go!”

“N-no! NO! Please! I swear, I can’t see your face, so I don’t know anything! I-I couldn’t tell anyone anything because I never s-saw your face!”

“Okay, that’s a cute idea... Say I did believe you – which, of course I don’t – but why the hell would I just leave now? Especially when I’m THIS close to getting what I came here for?”

Rachel’s voice was so strained from fear she could barely get the words out above a whisper. “Wh-what did you come here f-for?”

“Revenge.”

. . . . .

tbc...

Chapter Text

. . . . .

Outside the school, the parking lot buzzed with emergency first response teams. The county SWAT team showed up, in addition to state troopers and local police from six surrounding townships. Fire trucks and ambulances sat on standby while news crews tried to wedge their way closer to the action. A couple of helicopters zipped around overhead, and a long line of traffic was stopped about a quarter of a mile away from the school, likely a massive influx of worried parents resulting from a swarm of panicked calls and text messages from their terrified kids.

Sue Sylvester propped herself up on the floor from beneath the window of her office just enough to see the hive of activity on the sprawling campus. She wanted to open the window to call their attention and get help, but she was afraid they might shoot first and ask questions later. And considering she’d already been shot once; she’d prefer not to take the chance.

By that time, she’d managed to get the bleeding in her leg under control, but knew trying to walk anywhere on it was a bad idea and the pain was pretty intense. The makeshift tourniquet she’d put together was only going to hold out so long and she’d already suffered a great deal of blood loss, but her office was close enough to the nurse’s room that she managed to push herself there on her wheeled desk chair to gather a few medical supplies.

Before the hallowed ground of McKinley High rocked beneath her feet, she’d just finished her afternoon workout with her earbuds in listening to the divine sounds of Miss Olivia Newton-John and needed to head to the teacher’s lounge to refresh her protein shake. 

As she exited her office and turned into the corridor, she saw the large man in black carrying what appeared to be a handgun turn into the athletics wing, so she’d immediately turned back toward her office. Her reflexes are sharp and catlike, but not quick enough, she guessed.

The shooter wore a dark ski mask, so she didn’t get a look at his face, but knew by his height, build, and the way he carried himself he had to be a male, possibly a student. Considering the large pool of bottom-feeders, some-day Jerry Springer guests and future Lima Penitentiary inmates this place seems to breed, a number of potential culprits came to mind. 

Her impeccable sleuthing skills and keen sixth sense gave her a strong suspicion as to the identity of the masked marauder, but before she could give the idea of the invader’s identity any further credence, shots rang out and she had to take cover. 

The assailant fired off a couple of random warning shots, yelling for the few people lingering in the hall to freeze, but they’d scattered like ants anyway in accordance with the school’s recommended ASDs – that’s active shooter drills for you civilians (because a moving target is harder to hit; multiple moving targets, near impossible), and in all the commotion, one of the bullets must have ricocheted and hit her in the thigh. Just her bad luck (or the shooter’s accidental good luck, depending on how you look at it). She was pretty sure the bullet was still lodged in there, wreaking havoc. It may have nicked an artery which could account for the excessive bleeding. There was no exit wound, and she didn’t think it hit bone, but she couldn’t be sure and despite her high tolerance for it, the pain was unbearably searing either way. 

Once she made it into the nurse’s office by steering her chair several feet down the hall using her one good leg as an oar, she found the first aid kit and packed the wound the best she could with the meager supply of gauze pads and bandages found there. They were supposed to have actual medical grade tourniquets on hand, but there wasn’t one to be found (they probably hadn’t been replaced after that cough syrup slurping St Pierre imbecile lopped off his thumbs last year on a ban saw in wood shop), so she muttered under her breath at the incompetence of their soon to be EX-school nurse, squirreled up the available supplies she could carry in a pillowcase from one of those flat cheap pillows on the exam table then wheeled herself back to her office. Once inside she got under her desk and improvised a tourniquet with the next best thing she could find there: a jump rope. 

Once her clever jump rope tie-off was secure, she was able to call Figgins’ office from her desk phone. He’d told her to stay on lockdown in place where she was, that authorities had already been called. But that was more than twenty minutes ago, and the man had sounded downright terrified, maybe even in tears, not to mention more shots rang out immediately afterward.  

Sue had lost sight of the shooter after he saw her go down (she’d played dead hoping that’s what he would think and simply leave her alone – which seemed to work, since he apparently left that corridor right afterward), and wasn’t sure which direction he’d gone, but those next gunshots she’d heard sounded closer to the administrative offices where Figgins was located. 

Figgins was a clueless figurehead at best; at worst, he was an incompetent bumbling obstacle for her to navigate around as necessary, but that was just the adversarial nature of their working relationship. Underneath it all and on a personal level, she found him to be kind-hearted and genuinely likable man and never wished him any real harm. Certainly not THIS kind of harm. She sincerely hoped he was safe and lived to film another compression socks commercial some day and looked forward to their next battle over Cheerios versus Glee club budgetary matters. It was the spice of life and the little things like that which brightened her day.  

While she sat on the floor under her desk tending to her wound and occasionally peeking outside to see if these lazy incompetent so-called rescuers were ever actually ever going to BREACH the entrance or just sit around having a very expensive community-taxes-paid garden party all day, she heard what she rather astutely deduced was two sets of footsteps in the hallway, the simpering sniveling sounds of a girl crying, and a voice she was positive belonged to Jacob Ben Israel. 

. . . . .

Rachel Berry was certain of many things. 

She was going to be a star on Broadway one day. 

She would eventually win several Tony Awards and have a Grammy winning catalogue of her own original recorded music. 

Her fathers were the most important people in her life, whom she could always count on for their unwavering love and support. 

Finn Hudson would always be the boy she loved most and would forever hold an irreplaceable spot in her heart (namely, the whole damn thing, which mostly still beats for him, even when he’s busy breaking it... but he was also the only one who could rebuild it too, she was sure).

And right now she knows without a doubt she’s never been more terrified in her young life than she is at this moment. Seeing Jacob fall to a gunshot wound where his chest exploded right before her very eyes was so surreal, so unthinkable, so impossible... it HAD to be a dream, right? This foul-smelling pink mist, thick with gunpowder, splattered on her pale coral colored sweater, it was... it was all just a dream, right? A horrible, terrible nightmare that she was sure to wake from any moment now to find her daddies at her side with a glass of water and comforting words. 

Because for all the other things she knew to be true, things she KNEW her future held in store for her, she knew she HAD to survive first. So she couldn’t possibly be standing here in front of a crazy person with a loaded gun, a person ready to snuff out her dreams, her LIFE before she’s really had a chance to live it yet, right? And Jacob, he couldn’t have been killed right in front of her... this had to be a delusion or an elaborate hoax of some kind. Wake up Rachel, wake up!

. . . . .

As Finn makes his way down the longest stretch of the eerily quiet open hallway without seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary (except the extreme silence), part of him was relieved, but another part terrified. 

He thinks about his friends he left behind in the choir room. He feels bad for possibly putting them in danger, but the way he figures it, there’s safety in numbers, and the choir room walls are extra thick concrete and soundproof. That group of kids is probably in the safest place in the school, the more he thinks about it. It’s a place he desperately wishes he and Rachel were BOTH in right now (if not somewhere safely far far away from here altogether).

While checking the janitor’s closet (one he and Rachel created some very fond memories in) he swears he hears more gunshots. They sounded further away than the last. He also – whether it be wishful thinking or educated ears in the matter – swears he heard Rachel’s shrieking cries. But he can’t be positive it’s her only because he’s never actually heard her – or anyone for that matter – ever make a sound like that before. But it sure sounded like it could have been her. 

The moment the shots sounded he was inclined to duck and hide in this closet, but the thought of that voice being connected to THAT girl, his legs pulled him right of there and back into the hallway of their own accord. 

As he advances trepidatiously down the once again silent corridors, the further away from the choir room he gets and the more empty rooms he clears, the more convinced he is that Rachel has to be in the auditorium. It’s always been her go-to place when she’s extremely emotional. That look on her face right before she walked out of there had all but shattered him, and he just KNEW that would be where she’d want to run to; singing her feelings out loud was like her ethos, after all. 

. . . . .

Mr Schue finishes locking the door Finn just departed out of and lets a shaky breath escape as he sinks back down against the bookshelf nearer to the piano. On his descent, he looks around the choir room, sure to make eye contact in the dimly lit space with each of his kids, trying his damndest to silently convey his reassurance, affection and hope for a speedy SAFE resolution to this nightmare for all of them. He grabs his cell phone with shaky hands and taps out a quick message to Emma Pillsbury that reads safe in CR w kids, hope you are too. He debates briefly sending a message to his ex-wife but foregoes that with a message to his father instead.

In the spot behind the drum kit, Sam is now sitting with a small cushion of space next to Mercedes, whose arm is still strewn around Quinn’s shoulders. Mercedes and Kurt had exchanged a few emoji-filled messages of love and friendship after she’d texted her mother. 

Some minutes after Finn left, the soundproof room leaked in a muffled series of three more bangs in quick succession and the room fell completely silent again, save for a few muted whimpers of fear. Each little group of gleeks banded a little tighter together in their respective huddles but no one spoke for several long minutes.

Eventually the sound of text messages being sent and received resumed. Sam was still texting with his mother trying to reassure her they were safe for the moment and also hoping to get word of any updates from the TV news, which was just now breaking the story on all local channels. 

Quinn, however, hadn’t even touched her cell phone. Instead she’d sat shaking with occasional soft sniffles, clearly still reeling from her boyfriend’s unexpected defiance and total abandonment and their general circumstances. 

“I just can’t believe he did that,” the blonde whispers to the ebony-skinned girl holding her.

Mercedes sighs quietly, wipes a stray tear away with her free hand and hugs her friend a little tighter. “Well, that white boy’s brains aren’t exactly Einstein-worthy to begin with... But... He’ll be okay though, Quinn. I’m sure of it. It’s Finn, so he has to be, right?”

“Yeah. He has to be. He will be... but I mean, I can’t believe he just left ME here alone like this. For HER. I swear it’s like last year all over again,” she turns her watery green eyes up to look at her friend’s sympathetic face. “I guess it’s just never going to change with him, is it?”

Mercedes’ eyes narrowed the littlest bit, and she exhales softly. “You say this like it’s new information. Quinn, child, you don’t love him, so why do you sound so surprised?”

“What? Of course I do! He’s my boyfriend, I’ve lov–”

“Uh-uh. Stop there. You’ve LIKED him. He was your first boyfriend. You were his first girlfriend. Maybe there’s even things about him you sort of loved, but... c’mon Quinn. I listened to you vent all your emotions last year, remember? Girl, you do not love that boy any more than I love Puckerman. You care about him – a lot maybe. He’s a good guy, I can see why you care so much. And maybe there’s some kind of love between you, but you two were never IN LOVE. We all saw it last year, and it seemed like you recognized that fact after the dust settled on things back then. But you even admitted you two weren’t a perfect match and didn’t have much of anything in common except for Glee, so I’m not really sure why you even went back for seconds – even if you two do look really pretty together.”

. . . . .

These empty halls and the echoes in them were grating on his nerves, as was the sound of that scream. All he could do was think about her and how scared she must be. He should’ve never let her walk away. He should have been out there following her the minute she left the choir room.

For the past many weeks, Finn had been considering that maybe it was time to finally have a real heart-to-heart with Rachel about THEM and where they stood. He was long over her cheating thing and deep into regretting the breakup since...well, ever. Today’s circumstances seemed to simply highlight that very fact with a neon glowing sign and giant flickering gold stars and he honestly wasn’t sure what he’d been waiting for. It certainly wasn’t for prom to be over with... And while he’s thinking about it, fuck prom at this point. If he isn’t taking Rachel he isn’t going. 

He sighs thinking about what he wants to say to her as soon as he has the chance. Things had been so awkward for them from Christmas up until around the time of regionals prep in March (and it wasn’t lost on him at the time he told her to break a leg that they should’ve been celebrating their one-year anniversary as a couple that week; it’s the exact reason he approached her at all in that moment). For all those months in between, they’d hung in this weird limbo of her giving him space and time – through space and time... dammit – to heal (even if he didn’t want it but knew he needed it) and the state of their friendship was pretty unsteady for the first time since he knew her. 

But ever since her heart-string-pulling apology in that song she wrote for regionals, he’d been doing a LOT of soul searching and even more longing for her. Well, more than he was already doing anyway. They’d been spending more and more time together and it felt... good. It was comfortable again. It felt right. Maybe he wanted to be sure it wasn’t a passing fancy or a moment that didn’t mean anything. Then being so close to her in his truck on that stakeout at the motel the other day only served to remind him just how damn much he’d missed that closeness and alone time with her. And listening to her fight today in the choir room on THEIR behalf, on HIS behalf, well... he just knew it was time. Past time. It was Rachel last year and it was Rachel today and it was probably always going to be Rachel.

. . . . .

Quinn sighs. “I just... I want to be the one who gets chosen for a change... the one who goes from rags to riches and gets the big epic fairytale love story with the handsome prince who’d do anything to be with her. Who would defy class discrimination and subject himself to ridicule.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes a little then checked to be sure Sam was still too engrossed in his texting and oblivious to their hushed conversation to eavesdrop – which he was. 

“Are you serious? I wanna be offended by that comment, but that’s honestly probably what most girls want – me included. But I don’t even have a date for prom yet and I probably won’t; meanwhile, you seem to be forgetting how white boy #2 over there with the lame-ass impersonations and the weird nerd-love for Avatar DID choose you first. Chose you pretty hardcore right outta the gate too, promise ring and all. But that didn’t seem like enough for you...”

Quinn steals a sad subtle side glance at Sam and fresh tears spring to her eyes. She wipes them away quickly and clears her throat. “I know. I know you’re right. And Sam is a perfectly sweet guy, a perfectly perfect guy by all accounts, but he’s just... I don’t know. He’s too safe, too sweet, too... boring? He’s just... NOT Finn.”

Mercedes giggled quietly. “No, he sure isn’t – Sam’s a lot smarter and a lot less clueless about how to treat his women. Not to mention a way better dancer.” The pair of girls chuckled quietly. “Listen child, I don’t know what kinda twisted Cinderella fantasies you wanna live out, but you could pretty much have your pick of any guy in the school. And I think you’ve already had a double scoop of Prince Charmings compared to most of us – triple scoop, if we’re being completely honest.”

“Triple?”

“C’mon blondie. You haven’t discounted your baby daddy entirely, have you?”

“Ugh. Puck and I, we just don’t– mesh. He tries. He’s tried. But he can’t seem to keep himself out of juvie and that isn’t the reputation I want, playing Bonnie to his Clyde. Anyway, he’s currently into Shamu over there, which in and of itself is reason enough to question his princely candidacy. Although admittedly, he CAN be quite charming when he wants to be, but Puck’s too much of a wildcard, and I think some things with him will never change... Of course, there’s always something to be said for a bad boy, but you just don’t MARRY the bad boy and live happily ever after.”

“Girl?! Who said anything about marriage? This is HIGH SCHOOL. We have our whole lives to worry about marriage! You just... you just wanna be with someone who makes you feel good about yourself, makes you feel special and loved. Someone you can love back. And I kinda think you could have that with Puck if you wanted it. I really got the feeling he wanted that with you too... We all did.”

Quinn shifts uncomfortably in her spot and thinks for a moment before finally saying “I don’t know. Maybe.... But when it comes down to it, I just think... maybe it’s too hard with him. It’s too much a reminder of... of her.” 

“Alright, fair enough. But I’d still keep him in the ‘maybe someday’ pile if I were you. But girlfriend, this thing with Finn, I’m really not sure what the hell you were thinking to begin with. Cheating, again? Isn’t that how you screwed things up so bad in your life last time?”

“Well, I didn’t completely consider it cheating... it was more like, restoring order to the way it used to be.”

Mercedes’ eyes went wide with disbelief. “For real? I say this as your friend, as someone who cares about you; honey, he might’ve been yours first but he hasn’t been yours for a long time now. It’s pretty clear to anyone with a heartbeat he never will be again – not yours or anyone else’s that isn’t a shrimpy, animal sweater wearing little Broadway-bound diva. It’s not like you don’t know it, too.”

The blonde presses her lips together and twists the tissue she’s been clutching in her hands, finally admitting solemnly, “I know.”

“Then why–”

“Because I’m selfish. Okay? I just wanted my life back, Mercedes. The one I was supposed to have before everything went sideways last year. You don’t know what it’s like to have been on top then lose it all so quickly... I just wanted the plan I created in my head a long time ago before wine coolers and babies and Rachel freakin’ Berry came along and ruined everything.”

Mercedes hugs her friend a little tighter and sighs. “Well sweetie, you’re right, I wouldn’t know what that feels like, given I’ve never been one of the queen-bees around here. And I’m sorry, but sometimes you can’t put the genie back in the bottle. I guess I’m just unclear why it matters so much to you... the whole ‘being on top’ concept. People would like you just the same – probably even more – if you’d quit worrying about status and whatever, and just you know, be yourself. Be the girl I got to know when she was my roomie for a few months last year.”

The blonde smiles shyly and hugs her friend. She glances across the room at Lauren and purses her lips again. Rather than admit all her weaknesses to Mercedes with an explanation involving obvious daddy issues and the whole Lucy Caboosey thing that just went public, she deflects. “I hope she’s okay. I hope he finds her and they’re both okay. I may not be her best friend or anything, but I honestly don’t hate Rachel, and I certainly wouldn’t want any real harm to come to her. Truth is... I kind of envy her, actually.”

“I know you do... I kind of hate her,” Mercedes giggles softly, gaining a smirk from the blonde, “but only sometimes. When she’s being so damn preachy and self-serving and hogging all the spotlight. And the fact that she’s got the talent to back up all her chutzpah kinda makes me ill. But underneath all of that, I kind of love her too. They’ll both be okay. They have to be.”

. . . . .

Finn didn’t know what was really going on between Quinn and Sam, and truth be told, he kind of didn’t even care anymore. If Quinn was cheating and wanted to go back to Sam, well, more power to her. That’d actually make his life a hell of a lot simpler now. He didn’t understand why he was always so stagnating and indecisive when it came to that blonde haired beauty. 

He cared about her, sure, and some part of him didn’t wanna break her heart because he understood how much it was already broken after giving up her child last year (he REALLY understood in ways he kinda wished he didn’t)... but he also knew deep down what his heart truly wanted. And then a situation like today happens and he decided it was time to quit being the damn ostrich, get his head outta the sand and get his life together once and for all. 

His Nike sneakers squeaked a little in the still empty hallway and that scream resonated in his mind again. Please be safe baby, I’m coming... 

Finn knows he isn’t the brightest dude on earth. His grades kinda suck and a lot of current events and other things people talk about that weren’t sports or video game related went over his head. Maybe he didn’t completely understand algebra or girls or karma, or Quinn Fabray’s crazy prom eyes and her asinine quest for popularity and a crown, but he kind of understood Rachel Berry and her music and her heart. And he knew his feelings for her were becoming stronger and harder to ignore as the days passed. 

He surely never feels that way around or about Quinn. With her, he just feels kind of... neutral. Relaxed even– unless she’s on about prom votes and popularity and shit that he could seriously care less about. But he feels kinda like one of the background NPC’s in a video game. He can just sort of coast through without thinking too much or making too many decisions. These past few months, maybe he kind of needed that to get over his wounded pride, to maybe even lay to rest his old demons connected to Quinn and Puck and last year’s heartbreaks and humiliation. But at the end of the day, he certainly doesn’t ever feel like he NEEDS to be with or near Quinn – definitely not the same way he feels around Rachel. 

With Rachel, it’s always been different. Finn practically smiles to himself thinking about it. He constantly wants to watch her, listen to her beautiful angel’s voice, to be close, to touch her, even to sing with her... and he misses doing all those things more than anything. Hearing her sing still just puts the best kind of fullness in his chest – even when he was so angry and so hurt after their breakup, he couldn’t escape the swell of emotions within him (and not just the one in his pants when he let himself think about her in THAT way for too long). 

But there’s all the little things about her he misses too. Their silly texts and endless chatter about everything and nothing. Doing homework together (something he has still NEVER done with Quinn). The way she tucks under his arm so small and perfect. She just FITS him perfectly, in so many ways. She listens to him. She supports him. She believes in him, even when he can’t do any of that for himself. He like, he just needs to be close to her, and when he is, he wants to just hold her in his arms, feel her soft skin against his, smell her intoxicating Rachel scent and forget the world and all the troubles in it. He just wants to be in that place again where it’s just Finn and Rachel and nothing else matters. So when she’s around, it’s always like there’s a giant magnet or some kind of lasso wrapped around them, always trying to pull them closer together. 

Like right now. More than anything right now, he wishes there was a literal rope tied to her that he could just pull on and find her safe and sound on the other end, tow her back to shore with it to the safe harbor of his arms where she belonged. There might not be a literal rope between them, but there was something guiding him to her, and when he ever got to that other end, he was gonna make everything right between them once and for all. And if she tries to shrug him off again (like he knows she’s apt to do after he’s monkeyed with her emotions a few too many times) he’ll just knuckle down and put in the elbow grease needed to fix that too. 

He just hopes she made it safely into the auditorium without being seen and found a good hiding place before all hell broke loose. With a steadying breath, he approaches the final few steps to where his future is hopefully hiding, safe and sound in one piece.

. . . . .

Sue alternated between watching the action unfold outside the school and straining to hear the drama that was still playing out mere feet outside her office in the hallway. 

As long as some gun-toting mad-man was still on the loose she was in danger, yes, but so were her students. Students whom – and she’d never admit it to anyone out loud and would deny it under penalty of perjury in a court of law, but she actually cares about. A decision needs to be made- and soon, but there’s risk involved no matter what choice she makes. 

On one hand, she could try to flag down the garden party folks still loitering around outside and hopefully get herself some direly needed medical care... but what if they shot first and asked questions later? It only takes one nervous, trigger-happy rookie, and Sue Sylvester trusts noobs about as much as she trusts that Will Schuester will stop wearing sweater vests. Then there’s the other hand: get to the hallway and try to save the kids outside her door whom she just knows are in imminent mortal danger, exposed and vulnerable. 

But both of these options could lead to spooking a kook with a gun. So which one was the safer play – or at least the lesser of the two evils? 

She manages to scoot over, streaks of blood trailing across the floor under her, and discreetly peeks out the window facing the hallway between the thin vertical slats of the floor-length blinds. Immediately she recognizes the source of the weepy tears. They’d been coming from one Rachel Berry, who was now wiping her face and trying to make pleasant small talk with the other nerdy Jewish kid. 

Damn it anyhow! Didn’t these kids know there was a bonafide emergency unfolding? Why were they out there? Sue wanted to get their attention and pull them into the office with her, but as she decided how best to crawl over to open her door and get their attention, another set of footsteps echoing in the hall caught her attention followed by a muffled male voice grunting commands at the pair of frightened teens.

Sue inches away from the blinds, needing to adjust the jump-rope tourniquet again anyway. It hurt like a bitch and she grits her teeth to swallow any groans of pain. While she lays there bleeding and getting woozy from the blood loss, she hears another round of shots fired right outside her door. It scares the hell out of her, and she feels her heart stop when she hears what sounds like a body hitting the hallway floor. 

. . . . .

Mike and Tina sit silently on their own, her tucked safely in his arms. She continues weeping quietly as he occasionally brushes her tears away and presses soft kisses to her cheeks and temple. Both answer text messages from their parents and occasionally whisper sweet words of love and support into each other’s ears which only they can hear, clinging to one another for comfort and security.

. . . . .

Sam sits wiping tears from his own bleary eyes as he texts his younger siblings Stacy and Stevie about an episode of SpongeBob they just watched last night. Per his mom, his dad was already on his way to the school, and he could hear all the growing commotion from police and rescue teams churning outside the building. Sirens and helicopters and who knows what else... the sounds were somewhat comforting. His mom said there was a massive crew of emergency responders working to get them out safely, but they were waiting for a specialized tactical team to enter the school. He looks at the choir room door for a long beat, then at Kurt who was also still in tears, and sent a silent prayer that his two friends somewhere out in that hallway could hang on long enough for that rescue to happen. He looks around the rest of the room once and hopes the same for all of them as well. 

. . . . . 

A couple feet away from Sam, nearly inaudible whispers between Mercedes and Quinn continue to be exchanged, while the huddle of Santana, Britt and Lauren on the other side of the room wasn’t completely silent either. 

“I’m so scared Sanny,” Britt mumbled into the side of Santana’s arm.

“I know B. I am too.”

“I’m scared for Finn, and for Rachel... what if something bad–”

“Hey, no. Don’t you worry about Stay-Puft and his dwarf. They’re probably holed up in a closet together somewhere by now, proclaiming their undying love and kissing away each other’s tears... I’m sure they’re both gonna be just fine. So are we. We’re gonna get outta this, and we’re ALL going to be just fine. Then I can kick Frankenteen’s ass later for being a complete idiot and scaring the shit out of everyone when this is all over.”

“Please don’t go all Lima Heights on anyone, Sanny. Well, unless the shooter comes in here, then you can go Lima Heights Adjacent and even use your razor blades if you want.”

The plus-sized brunette girl sitting next to them interrupted. “Hey Brittany, don’t sweat it. I’ll help her out if anyone comes in that door pointing a gun at us,” Lauren said, trying to offer some assurances of her own. “I gots plenty of padding, so I can take a hit or two. And count me in, I’ll definitely help kick Hudson’s dumb ass later. God knows this twiggy little one here needs the backup either way,” she added, jerking her thumb in Santana’s direction.

Santana narrows her eyes in annoyance at Lauren. “You got lucky that day, Big Bertha. But I gotta admit, your wrestling moves are kind of impressive. The pair of us as a tag team would probably be pretty unstoppable.” Then she turns and smirks a little at the blonde girl quivering against her left side. “It’s okay Britts. I promise, I’ll save the hardcore stuff for the bad guys... meaning not Finn. And you hear that?” she jerks her chin in the direction of Lauren, “I even have a sidekick. No bad guy stands a chance against both of us badass bitches. Right Zises?”

“Yeah, sure thing Lopez. Even if it’s just because I slingshot you and your razorblades across the room at ‘em. At least I know you can handle it, seeing’s how you handled those locker slams out in the hall so well. Respect for that, by the way. You must have an unusually hard head; I fully expected you to be unconscious on the first blow,” she said as she offered a fist which Santana reluctantly bumped with a slight smirk. 

“I’m not stranger to fighting. That’s just how we roll in Lima Heights. And props to you for uncovering the whole Lucy Caboosey thing, I mean to  say.... Anyone that puts Miss Perfect in her place is worth calling a friend. You got my vote for queen, chicka.”

Brittany smiles widely. “I’m glad you two made up... I love you San,” she whispered. 

Santana nuzzles her nose against the blonde’s ear to whisper back, “I love you too, B. You’re my girl. You know that right?”

The blonde simply nodded as the pair embraced silently, with Lauren looking on, a small approving smirk pulling at her cheeks. She looks across the room at Puck, who was just staring at her with an odd expression. She thought it was something vaguely akin to worry or caring and offered a subtle chin nod in his direction, which he returned with a wink. Lauren sighs thinking to herself maybe dating Puckerman was worth a shot after all when this was over.

. . . . .

Jacob’s body lays motionless and bleeding out in front of her. 

He’s dead. She knows he’s dead, but still, she just wants to shake him awake and take him to safety. 

But she can’t MOVE.

For once, Rachel Berry feels completely and utterly helpless and voiceless. Petrified into stone. And more than anything she wishes she wasn’t standing here alone facing some dangerous monster who could destroy everything that ever meant anything in the pull of a trigger. 

She wishes Finn were with her. 

Well no, she wouldn’t want him to be put in this kind of danger, but still, she wishes she could see him, just once more. His sweet, dimpled smile, telling her in just a look how strong she was, how much he believes in her, how she could get through this, even without him. If this was to be her last day on this earth, that’s the one last thing she wishes she could have. Not one final solo, not a chance to win an award or to hear applause from an adoring audience, just one more look at Finn Hudson’s breathtaking smile. 

She closes her eyes and wills the image of his beautiful face, his loving, sweet features with the freckles and moles and little boy dimples to appear and keep her safe. The contours she’d traced with her eyes and fingertips a hundred times were perfectly committed to memory are so vivid now, she can practically feel the stubble from his cheeks against her fingertips now. His lips pressing against hers.... Just one more time.... 

Sixteen years wasn’t enough for her on this earth. A year and a half wasn’t enough time with Finn. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough, but 18 months was some cosmic joke. They were supposed to have more time. They were supposed to become THEM again and have FOREVER. Her journey can’t end here... 

An echo of six awkward kids stumbling around on a stage, laughing, tripping over each other, trying to get their act and harmonies together tickled in the back of her mind and she sees them all so clearly, feels his hands wrap around her waist as he steps in circles around her... hold onto that feeling...

Taking a shaky breath with eyes still closed, she focuses on her memory of the boy she loves and tries to draw strength from it to face the demon before her. If she has to depart this world today, she’ll do it with as much dignity and grace as she can muster, but she hopes beyond hope she does get a chance to see his beautiful freckle-dusted face at least one more time, even if it’s only in her mind. He’s probably safely hidden in the choir room, and at least she can keep him that way.

She opens her eyes and peers into the angry cold black orbs of the tall dark-clothed figure before her and tries to find the words that might save her life. Even though reasoning with this PERSON – and right now she uses that word loosely – has never gotten her anywhere before in the past two years.

Oh yes. She knows exactly who she’s up against, thought she knew what he was capable of, thought her days of reckoning with his brand of assertive male dominance was at an end. They all thought so. And it’s his own fault he got expelled, NOT Finns... Finn was only doing what was RIGHT for his brother and the school. Whatever his problems are today, they are a bed of his own making; it’s not Finn’s fault! 

She just never thought it would come to this.

. . . . .

As Finn passed Principal Figgins’ office he couldn’t believe the scene left behind like some horrific slasher film diorama. If he hadn’t seen so many first-person shooter games, he might not even be able to get his head around what seeing – and in truth, he still kind of can’t. 

Joanie, the school secretary, lay limp, face down across her desk, clearly already dead with an apparent gunshot wound to the head which was bleeding out all over the tabletop surface and dripping down the sides of the desk, puddling onto the carpeted floor below. A few feet behind her in the doorway to Figgins’ office, Finn was sure he could see his principal’s lifeless body sprawled out in an unnatural position on the floor, a spray of streaked red lines coating the door, glass, and bookcase behind him.

He immediately wanted to throw up as his stomach violently twisted in revulsion. His vision tilted a little and the smell of iron and gunpowder still hanging in the air permeating his nostrils just made his reaction even more visceral. But he swallowed down the urge to heave out the acrid bile that pushed its way up his throat, squeezed his eyes closed and just breathed deeply for a moment using the exercises Rachel taught him before going on stage at competitions. Cool it man. She needs you. Instead of completely panicking, his attention became even more laser-focused on finding Rachel. 

Finn’s breathing picks up in time with his heartbeat as he gets closer to his destination. Rachel’s inside there, he just feels it now, he feels her. He’s gonna find her and kiss her and they’re gonna be THEM again, dammit, because he loves her. He always has. He’s not wasting any more time being a pansy ass, licking his wounded pride. Punishing her for– for what exactly? What had she done that was really so unforgivable in the greater scheme of things? He couldn’t even justify it anymore. Life’s too fucking short for him to be so damn pigheaded. Accidents happen every day. 

Lunatics shoot up schools and kill innocent people.  

God, he just has to find her... and FAST. 

He’s known for a long time that he loves her, but he hadn’t fully understood until just this moment what the depths of those feelings were and what lengths he’d be willing to go to prove them. Now he knows his love for her is pretty much boundless, and he just KNOWS she still loves him too – even if she’s buried it under that thick skin she wears like a weapon, a suit of armor. Even if he has to chip away her steely stubborn layers to get to the soft gooey vulnerable parts again. He’ll put in the work and do it, because well, he kinda helped coat her in that protective hard outer shell in the first place. And anyway he’s chipped it away before, so he kinda knows his lay of the land. Besides, she’s worth it because she’s special, and together they are part of probably a once-in-a-lifetime something special. He’s never letting go of that – or her – again.

Just as soon as he actually FINDS her.

The final few feet of hallway to the auditorium lay ahead just around the corner. Forcing his trembling rubbery legs to move forward into the unknown, he follows his invisible Rachel rope and continues onward. 

. . . . .

“Wh-what did you come here f-for?”

The dark figure steps a little closer to her and cackles without humor. 

“Revenge,” he practically spat in her face.

After pleading for her life, and babbling words she barely remembers saying, Rachel stands completely paralyzed in fear, trembling so violently she feels her knees knocking together. Revenge...? What did he mean by revenge? She looked down at Jacob, unable to help herself. Seeing gurgles of blood seep out from his mouth, it appears he’d just taken his last breath.

Her mind was reeling, trying to make sense of it all... she knew that voice. Knew that laugh. Knew the shape of the person standing within arm’s length of her. She’s KNOWN him for years, but does she even know him at all? If he’s capable of committing an act as heinous as this?... but seeing Jacob so still and lifeless, she just couldn’t make anything make sense. 

Something in her snapped. “He’s... oh god! Oh GOD! Y-you, oh no, oh no, Jacob... you KILLED him!” Then uncontrollable sobs broke through her stupor. “Why?! Why did you do that?! H-how could you... You said you want revenge– Revenge against who, Jacob? He didn’t deserve this! Or, a-against m-me? Because I didn’t do anyth–” 

“Oh yeah you did! Maybe Jewfro’s just collateral damage, but who gives a shit? You and that whole queer little tribe of alphabet people you call your loser friends, you ALL deserve what’s coming your way! Especially that pussy-boy dipshit you’re always drooling over, the one that thinks he’s better than everyone else... that faggot-loving king fairy-wannabe douchebag boyfriend of yours. Hudson.”

She wasn’t honestly sure what possessed her to speak at all, but under the circumstances, talking was better than shooting, so maybe as long as she could keep him engaged in any kind of conversation, there was hope of getting herself out of this mess – alive, preferably. But then he said Finn’s name. Her heart galloped a million miles a minute at the thought of ANYONE coming to harm Finn. Her Finn! He couldn’t be serious! Finn never did anything to anyone that could possibly justify THIS! 

She felt the panic burst through her veins like wildfire, heart racing and muscles tightening in fear, and suddenly the words just flew from her beggars lips of their own accord.

“WHAT? NO! No no, please, no, you can’t hurt Finn! You don’t want to do this, I know you don’t! He hasn’t done anything to anyone either! He’s never hurt ANYONE! Not like this, not to deserve something like... y-you CAN’T! We aren’t even... I mean, we’re not a couple anymore, we’re just–”

The masked man raises his gun up in his black glove-clad beefy hand and backhands Rachel across the face with it. “Jesus Christ, would you shut that big flappin’ yap of yours! FUCK! You NEVER know when to keep your big trap CLOSED, do ya? Time someone taught you some fucking manners. Time ALL you freaks learned.” He waved the gun in the air as his voice rose, and Rachel watched as the barrel of it passed in front of her face several times, but she still couldn’t move, not even to flinch or duck. “You’re not selling me any of your bullshit anyway. Even if that precious little tulip of yours only thinks of you as his fag hag now, he’s such a friend of Dorothy that I already know he’ll come running to save you – him and his mega huge hero complex. Thinks he can save everyone. Thinks he’s somebody special. Thinks his shit don’t stink. That asshole, yeah, he’ll come, of that much I’m sure. I wasn’t really lookin’ for you, you little Jew freak, but didn’t I get lucky here? After all, it’s much easier to catch a stinkin’ RAT with a nice big fat juicy piece of cheese, right? And what better bait than his favorite little tranny songbird.” 

The man in black laughed maniacally and Rachel trembled from head to toe, shivers running down her spine at the sound of his heartless chortle. Every fiber in her being was screaming for her to RUN, but she couldn’t seem to make her feet move from the spot where they were rooted, and pangs of fire-hot pain shot through her face from where she’d been struck.  

She brought her hand up to hold her face where the gun had struck her. It felt as if her cheekbone and teeth exploded when the pommel of it slammed into her. She drew her hand back to examine it, and seeing blood staining her fingertips, suddenly felt very unsteady on her wobbling legs. The bright fluorescent lit corridor was fading, and she swears she saw Finn’s face as the last thing before her legs finally gave out and everything dimmed to black. 

. . . . .

“Coach! What’s happening? It’s like the world and the whole school has gone CRAZY or something!”

“Becky! Oh my sweet girl, what are you doing in here? You should be hiding already! Oh god, thank god you’re alright, but where did you come from?”

“I was in the weight room, pumping iron with the music playing loud. And I got thirsty, but I left my protein shake in here in your mini fridge. When I came out and walked past Principal Figgins’ office, I saw BAD THINGS, Coach! Terrible things... I think people are really hurt... And Jewfro, he’s out there in the hall and–”

By now the petite blonde girl was practically hysterical. Sue pulled her by the wrists close and hugged her in a protective embrace. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay... oh my poor innocent little thing, I’m so sorry you had to see all of that.”

“Coach? I think Principal Figgins is dead. And I saw... I saw a bad guy pointing a gun at Finn Hudson.”

The blood drained from Sue’s face. “Oh god. Dead? Becky, honey, this is really important. Are you SURE Principal Figgins is–”

“I saw it Coach. He was all bloody and not moving. Just like Jewfro.”

“And you saw the bad guy and Finn? Where?”

“By the auditorium. They didn’t see me. I just ran back here as fast as I could.”

“Are you SURE they didn’t see you?”

“Well I’m still here, I made it this far.”

“Yes you did. Jeanie will be so proud when I tell her. Maybe when this is over we’ll go visit her together. You remember my sister?”

“Yeah Coach, she’s awesome... but FOCUS!” The fiery little blonde snaps her fingers. “There’s a crazy person with a gun! Who would do something like that, Coach? Is he gonna hurt my Finny Bear?”

Sue shakes her head, not knowing whether Becky really understands what’s happening. “Ah... damn. He... well, Becky, honey, I won’t lie to you. I just don’t know. He might try.”

“Then we have to HELP HIM Coach!”

“Well honey, I would if I could, but it’s just too dangerous and... I won’t jeopardize you like that. Besides I’m hurt too, and you already got lucky getting here to me safely...”

“Yeah. You’re hurt. You need a doctor, Coach.” she paused in thought for a long beat and then said suddenly “I know what to do. I’m gonna get help for you, and for Finn.”

“No, no Becky, you HAVE to just stay put! It’s not safe. Remember the shooter drills we’ve practiced? Can you tell me the rules? We went over them–”

“Screw the rules, Coach! You always say, if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself. Don’t worry. I know what to do! I’ll be back.”

With that the small, determined girl ran back out into the hallway.

“Becky! Becky come back!”

. . . . . 

tbc....

Chapter Text

finally baby the truth has been told

. . . . .

Sue shuddered at the thought of Becky roaming around the halls alone with a gun-wielding lunatic lurking somewhere – one whom apparently had actually murdered more than once already. Considering the person whom she was certain was behind the trigger, she was deathly afraid for her naive spunky little blonde protege’s life if they should cross paths. 

The events of the day were still defying Sue’s comprehension. Before Becky arrived, Sue had heard a third voice join the two Jew nerds out in the hall. Once he said “you could get yourself shot” it immediately confirmed her suspicions: Not only was he a (former) student, but also a DANGEROUS one with a real ax to grind with anyone who got in his way. Sue didn’t even need to guess what his motives were; she’d been party to his demise at McKinley and frankly, counted herself lucky that all she’d gotten so far was a ricocheted bullet to the leg. She could have otherwise already become one of the casualties.

Speaking of that apparently growing list of fatalities, she had to wonder just how much carnage had actually taken place. She’d heard JBI bravely (albeit stupidly) take a stand against the intruder in some misplaced act of chivalry to protect his coveted Streisand wannabe dream girl and at that point wondered how the little weakling didn’t realize just WHO he was going up against. Jacob was usually a pretty clever kid – weasley and perverted, yes, but also cunning and clever in his own inappropriately stalkerish way. 

Sue had struggled to pull herself up to unlock the door to try to intervene, even at her own peril. She was still the adult in the situation – even better, she was Sue Sylvester – and she needed to try to protect her students. But as her fingertips just barely brushed the lock she’d heard the gun go off, apparently silencing Jacob, followed by a thud and the most horrific blood-curdling scream she’d ever heard tearing from Rachel Berry’s throat. She’d been too late and too injured to help them, and her own weakness was simply gutting her. 

After Jacob had apparently been taken down, two more shots rang out. She could tell Rachel was chatting it up with the shooter, and it might’ve been a good distraction that bought herself some time to enter the scene to help save the girl, but the hulking masked invader still had his gun barrel trained on Baby Barbra and Sue was afraid opening the door at that point would startle him, then Berry might become yet another statistic. 

So she slunk back down to the floor, hoping and praying the girl with a gift for gab would find a way to stay alive; maybe her talent for endless chatter would bore the triggerman to death (or into a coma at least). She knew the kid was an aspiring actress and hoped that skillset alone would buy her some time or somehow save her life (on the other hand, the shooter could lose his patience and just snuff her out just as easily; it was a slippery slope). 

Now the hall was empty, except for Jacob Ben Israel’s still-bleeding corpse. The gunman and Rachel were both at large, and Becky was out there somewhere trying to play the savior to a bumbling buffoon who should’ve stayed locked up with the rest of Schuester’s mouth-breathers in the choir room, instead of potentially about to become the shooter’s next victim (seriously, why did they bother having ASD’s if nobody was going to follow the damn rules?). 

Sue rubbed at her temples, reflecting on her inadequacy and how to overcome it. So far she was unable to help ANY of them. She’d failed them all – herself included, and the taste of failure was bitter and unfamiliar, and she did not like it. Not one bit. 

. . . . .

“Shhh! You two need to pipe down over there!” Kurt whisper yelled at Quinn and Mercedes. “Some of us are trying to have a nervous breakdown in peace and also NOT get shot! I love you both, but my brother and my best friend could be in mortal danger out there, not to mention the real danger we’re all potentially in here, so just curb the Oprah couch session for now, please!”

Mr Schue and Puck rallied around Kurt who’d collapsed into a puddle of tears against Puck’s shoulder. 

Puck looked down disapprovingly at the blubbering boy attached to his shoulder, rolled his eyes and sighed. “Okay Petunia, try to pull yourself together. Look, we’re all freaked out, and Hudson’s kind of a lunatic and an asshole for running out there like that – but ya gotta admit, it was a pretty ballsy move, especially for him. I don’t think even I could be that badass – obviously, since he’s out there and I’m in here. Or maybe he’s just a dumbass. Whatever. I’ll blame my Jew genes. It’s like a self-preservation thing built into my DNA. But c’mon, if you’re tryin’ to win the girl back, I’d say that’s a sure-fire way to prove it, right?”

Kurt crunched his brow and looked at Puck with disgust. “Don’t you ever get tired of being so... Puckish? I’m completely freaking out right now, why aren’t YOU?” he snarked under his breath. “I mean, my brother just basically stepped out into a WAR ZONE, unarmed without even batting an eyelash! To go save my best friend.... the girl whom I know he’s still hopelessly in love with... UGH! Okay I guess you’re right; it is rather romantic when you look at it like that.”

“Romantic maybe, but irresponsible too,” Mr Schue chimed in. “I just hope he’s safe. And Rachel too. I should’ve probably been the one to go out there to look for her, but we have these procedures in place for a reason and the smarter thing is to follow them, no matter how worried I am about both of them out there. You guys are all my responsibility, after all.”

Kurt shook his head in protest. “It wouldn’t have mattered if you had, Mr Schue. Finn loves that girl too damn much. He was going after her no matter what. He’s my brother and I love him, but his blind passion for Rachel Berry is his Achilles heel that might just lead to his downfall. I’m just a little pissed off that he couldn’t have had this grand epiphany even a few days earlier... then maybe they would have already reunited and BOTH still be safely in this room with us, not out there somewhere possibly ducking bullets!”

Mr Schue exhaled slowly, thinking back on all the moments he’s witnessed between his two co-captains, then nodded his head. “Yeah. I suppose you’re right. He loves her. They love each other, in a big, do something really stupid kind of way. Let’s just hope they’ve found each other by now and are both safely hidden away until this whole thing blows over.”

. . . . .

The final intersection of hallway that leads to the auditorium was in sight. Knowing he couldn’t help his principal or the school secretary at all now, Finn could only push their suffering and that gruesome scene aside in his mind and forge ahead. He HAD to find Rachel no matter what. There’s NO WAY he could let something like THAT become her destiny; he just hoped he wasn’t too late getting to her and that whoever the hell the monster was behind this tragedy, he hadn’t crossed paths with her yet.

As he approaches the final stretch, theater doors a mere dozen or less paces ahead of him, Finn thinks about where to look for Rachel once he gets in there. He hopes the sound of him entering the space doesn’t scare her, but he thinks it’d be smart not to call her name right away, since what if the shooter WAS in there? If she heard the gunshots – and he can’t imagine she didn’t, surely she would have taken cover already, right? 

There were lots of nooks and crannies in the wings of the stage, not to mention dozens of rows of audience seats. There was even a little-known trap door that led under the stage too, which would make an excellent hiding place, but the door itself is a little hard to open for someone as small as Rachel. Would she even remember the trap door if she were in a state of panic? In a space that big and dimly lit – one he knows Rachel knows the layout of so well, she could slip around undetected easily, even if the bad guy went in there.

Then his mind drifted to the source of this nightmare – the shooter. Who the hell managed to bring weapons into their school undetected anyway, and why would they even want to? Okay, well, it’s not like they have metal detectors or security of any kind really (unless Sue Sylvester counts). 

If this was a student, he suddenly realized just how easy it would be to bring that kind of weaponry into this place unnoticed. And IF it was a student, they’d surely have to be some kind of messed up to have killed Principal Figgins and Joanie! Why the fuck was this happening and who could do something like this?!

Ever since the big state championship and their half-time event, things were a little calmer between most of the jocks and the glee kids, but the hockey guys led by Rick Nelson still liked to act out any chance they got – not just against the glee club, but against any poor defenseless, unsuspecting souls they deemed worthy of a slushy baptism. 

Was it possible one of those downtrodden victims was out for revenge? A freshman maybe? Other than Jewfro and the rest of the glee club, he couldn’t think specifically of anyone who’d been repeatedly targeted, not enough to send them on a murder spree. Then again, maybe it only takes one time with the wrong kid on the wrong day to send someone over the edge. 

Memories of Rachel standing in her little dancing poodles sweater and plaid skirt with syrupy grape ice dripping from her face suddenly flooded his mind and made his blood boil. Rachel had probably taken more slushy attacks than anyone else he knew – fewer while they were dating, true, but they’d resumed in frequency briefly after they broke up. Finn had confronted the assholes and reminded them she was still off limits no matter their couple status, so they kind of stopped again. The point is, even Rachel, the biggest slushy target of them all would never do anything as unhinged as bring a gun to school and threaten anyone, let alone actually pull the trigger and end someone’s life... 

But clearly SOMEONE did. SOMEONE was pushed that far.

Maybe it wasn’t even a student. Maybe it was some like, escaped convict or crazy person that had like a psychotic break and just randomly wandered into their school. Or maybe it was some kinda domestic dispute between a student’s parents who had beef with the school or, or... well he couldn’t think of who or why else this could be happening because it’s just INSANE! 

Still, they’d had enough active shooter drills, had been lectured on the school shooting statistics and the warning signs for years now so he was pretty sure it must be someone their age. Maybe even someone they know. The idea that he may know someone capable of committing such horrible acts made his blood run cold. He could’ve been friends with a murderer lying in wait all this time and never known.

Finn decided if – no, WHEN they all made it through this, he was gonna do something to help put an end to the school’s reluctance to deal with bullies. He was sure they wouldn’t even need much convincing now after this. While considering all the possible candidates of kids who’d been picked on and put down, tossed in dumpsters or tied to flagpoles enough to SNAP, he still couldn’t think of ANYONE who had enough hate in their heart to wanna actually KILL. Even still, no point in pushing the limits until it happened (if it hasn’t already). They needed a zero-tolerance policy on bullying, like yesterday. The bullying in this school still hadn’t ever been extinguished, even after all the shit Kurt went through with— OH SHIT. 

Karofsky. 

. . . . .

The next time Rachel was aware of her surroundings, she found herself sitting upright in the center of the stage. She opened her eyes slowly and was immediately confused and blinded by the single spotlight overhead shining down on her, further distorting her vision. 

Her head ached and her body seemed stuck in place – literally, forcibly this time. She couldn’t even move her arms or legs an inch, realizing they were all bound and tied to some armchair, probably left over from their canceled Rocky Horror play. It was even difficult to breathe now. She’d been gagged with a rag or something stuffed in her mouth and, was it duct tape tying her limbs to the chair she was perched in? 

She couldn’t believe this was happening, and knew the uncertainty of the unfolding situation should be reason enough to scare the wits out of her, but nothing terrified more than the sight she picked up on next: Finn’s color-drained, very worried face appearing in the narrow window of the auditorium door, and right behind him, the gunman. 

She began throwing her body weight to and fro in an attempt at rocking her chair in protest, hoping somehow to warn Finn of the danger behind him, but it appeared she was helpless to do anything to save him now and she could tell by Finn’s sudden frozen posture, the unknown threat had just made itself known. 

Seeing what happened to Jacob was already enough to trigger a lifetime’s worth of therapy sessions; but even the mere thought of the same happening to Finn? She’d rather die first. The longer she considered that might just be the next thing she witnessed, the more she became uncontrollably hysterical. Between the sobbing tears and lack of oxygen as she struggled to breathe through the gag in her mouth while hyperventilating, she passed out again. 

. . . . . 

By the time Finn realized who just MIGHT be crazy enough to come in here and shoot the place up, he’d reached the theater doors, but before he could open them he heard the sound of someone behind him. He froze the moment that gun barrel pressed into his back and slowly raised his hands reflexively in surrender. 

He’d never been more afraid in his entire life, yet seeing Rachel sitting bound and gagged on the stage about 100 feet away seemed to give him some extra courage he didn’t know he had. For now, he’d do whatever was necessary to keep her safe and protected at all costs, the best he could anyway. 

When the armed invader had spoken and called him by name, Finn’s stomach plummeted at the low, gruff-sounding voice which he recognized in an instant. He had hoped he was wrong about his suspicions, but it seems like he wasn’t; the voice attached to the other end of that gun barrel was unmistakable. It WAS David Karofsky.

Finn decided maybe playing dumb was the best way to approach this. Maybe if this jerkwad thought he could make a clean escape without fear of being identified, he’d actually jump at the chance. Dave wasn’t all that quick-witted after all. “Hey man, take it easy, okay? I don’t want any trouble... I just uh, I just needed to check on my girl in there, and uh, you can leave or whatever and I won’t say a thing. It’ll be like you were never here.”

“It’s already like that, ain’t it asshole? You made sure of it.”

Finn swallowed hard, now having a pretty good idea why Karofsky was here. Still, he kept up his ruse of pretending he didn’t know the dude’s true identity. He tried to keep the conversation going (because talking to the douche sure sounded a lot better than being shot at). “Uh... I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Oh yeah you are. But let’s not spoil the fun so soon. Let’s move this little tea party to your favorite place – your faggy dance party place right inside here where you and Homo Explosion like to have your little singing freak orgies,” the hefty teen snarled at Finn as the barrel of the gun was pushed sharply into his back. “And looky down there on that stage, I already brought us some entertainment! Now MOVE!”

“O-okay, take it easy man. I’m moving, I’m moving. I’ll do anything you want, just uh, can you please let my girl go? She’s harmless and wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”

“Just how dumb do you think I am? She already knows what I have in store for you anyway and she’s got a blabber mouth bigger than your hero complex! But I gotta wonder, you keep calling her your girl; I thought you dumped her fugly loser ass?”

As they continued slowly making their way up the aisle toward the stage, Finn’s heart raced, and so did his mind. It was very certainly Rachel on that stage, and now she wasn’t moving. Oh god, was she hurt? If that sonofabitch did anything to her he was gonna kill him with his own two hands! 

The closer they got to the stage, Finn saw what looked like a huge bruise forming over her swollen cheek and blood on her face. He tensed his jaw and thought about rearing around right then to tackle this fucker, but then he felt the gun barrel poke into his shoulder again with a hard shove. So he tried to keep talking to this asshole, hoping to keep him distracted so that at some point maybe he could make a move to neutralize him.

“H-how... how would you even know that? About us breaking up I mean.” 

Finn hoped playing dumb was the right move, figuring the minute he let this douchebag know HE knew who it was, it could be game over.

“I know everything asshole! Like what a fucking LIFE RUINER you are! But you and that fruity little Jew bitch, I kinda thought you were stuck together for good. Whatsamatter, bitch not putting out enough for you? She gives bad head? Or d’ja just finally get fed up listening to her big mouth flapping all the time?”

They were finally climbing the stairs to the stage when he couldn’t help himself and Finn cried out, “Rach? Rachel baby, wake up! I’m here, are you o– UGH!”

Finn’s panicked words were stifled by a hard punch in the low back with the shooter’s free hand. “Shut the fuck up! She’s FINE. I barely laid a hand on her.... For now,” he said darkly, followed by a low, menacing chortle that made Finn’s skin crawl and his stomach twist. His fists were balling at his sides now, ready to strike as soon as he found the right moment. 

It wasn’t exactly a fair fight with bullets involved; if Finn could at least get the gun away from him, he was SURE he could take this fat fuck down from pure rage alone at this point. Now that they were on the stage, he wondered what this asshole’s next move was. He decided if he was gonna be pushed around at gunpoint by the world’s biggest dickwad, he wasn’t gonna show fear. And frankly, his anger over seeing Rachel bound, gagged and injured was far outweighing his fear anyway.  Just the idea of this bastard laying a FINGER on her made him understand how someone could snap enough to wanna murder someone.

“Okay dude. You got me here. What now? If you’re gonna kill us, why not just do it and get it over with?” 

He was pushing his luck, and he knew it, but seeing Rachel up close and the blood smeared over her beautiful face, plus the duct tape bindings of her wrists and ankles, he was LIVID. There was so much turmoil and vinegar in his veins that it took some kind of superhuman strength to keep from tackling the guy. The threat of that gun being aimed at Rachel was the ONLY thing keeping him in check.

“Quit trying to spoil all my fun! In due time, Deep Throat! For now, see that rope over there? Grab it and bring the piano bench over here next to your little sleeping beauty... err, make that sleeping UGLY.”

Finn bit his tongue. This bastard was just trying to get a rise outta him, he knew it. But Finn needed to keep his cool and find a way to be sure Rachel would stay safe and get out of this mess somehow. With the gun following his every step, he did what he was instructed. “Okay now what?”

“Take a seat dickhead,” the masked man snarled, then he moved behind Finn to retrieve the roll of duct tape sitting on the floor next to Rachel’s chair. He forced Finn to hold both wrists together behind his back as the tape was wrapped around them several times.

Once Finn’s hands were securely bound, the madman grabbed the rope and fashioned a simple noose. When it was ready, he loosely lassoed it around Finn’s neck, the long end of rope like a leash laying out on the floor next to his feet. Then the still-masked bandit pushed a ladder over next to the bound couple.

“Okay. So here’s what we’re gonna do. I decided since you ruined MY life so fucking spectacularly, I’m about to return the favor. And by the time I’m done, you’re finally gonna know what it’s like to feel REAL PAIN, so bad that you’re just gonna wanna KILL YOURSELF.” Finn gasped as the monster in front of him walked over to Rachel, clutching a fistful of hair on the back of her head and pulled her head up to face Finn by her hair. “Shall we begin?”

Seeing that bastard man-handling Rachel sent fire burning through his body as terror scorched his veins to the core, right to the source in his chest. 

“Dave STOP! C’mon, don’t, don’t hurt her, PLEASE!”

. . . . .

tbc...

Chapter Text

remembering what you had, and what you lost

. . . . .

The large figure dressed in black stopped frozen in place at the sound of his name in Finn’s desperate plea. He released his grip on Rachel, stood up straight and looked in Finn’s direction for a hard uncomfortable moment. Then his maniacal laugh echoed in the cavernous space as he spoke, making all the hair on Finn’s body stand on end. 

“Well. About time your ball-sack dropped, and you got up the courage to admit you knew it was me,” the gunman said as he peeled off his ski mask. 

In an instant, the cold, vengeful face of Dave Karofsky came into plain view to stare down Finn. 

Believing it was his voice was one thing; seeing his face as absolute confirmation stirred a desperate fire in Finn, who clenched and unclenched the fists of his bound hands, hoping maybe moving them enough could somehow loosen the tape. He was part furious and part terrified having seen this psycho’s handiwork back in Figgins’ office already. Still, he knew he had to just keep this douche talking, keep him distracted and hopefully, keep him away from Rachel.

“Yeah okay. I’ve known it was you from the beginning, back at the doors.” He nudged his chin in the general direction of the auditorium doors and then shrugged one shoulder. “But what I don’t know is WHY? Why would you do this shit, man? What the hell happened to you, and why are you taking it out on me and Rachel and everyone else?”

“I already told you. This is my payback, and the best revenge will be watching you suffer the way I have.” Dave walked slowly around Rachel as he spoke, running a hand over the back of her chair teasingly. He smirked watching Finn’s color blanch and his face contort in fear and desperation.

Finn felt like his heart was beating so hard it might just explode right out of his chest. He’d been through some pretty scary moments in his young life – almost killing a postal worker with his car, learning he might be a teen dad, hearing Rachel confess to cheating on him then breaking up with her – but absolutely nothing prepared him for the complete overwhelming dread he felt hearing Karofsky threatening Rachel. He could barely hear over the thumping pulse and constant buzzing in his ears and his whole body was tremoring. “Please man, I’m begging you, leave her alone. Just let her go.”

The large boy smirked at the wretched look of despair on the quarterback’s face as he begged for Rachel’s safety. “Aww, ain’t that sweet? Big bad Finny Boy Hudson, McKinley’s Golden Boy, begging for the life of a loser. That’s cute.” 

“She’s not a loser!”

“The fuck she ain’t!” The madman snapped. “All you little glee club dorks are losers, carrying on like you’re all so special because you can sing and dance and do jazz hands,” he twinkled his fingers in the air mockingly to punctuate his words “– well newsflash dick, YOU’RE NOT! You’re not special. You’re a bunch of fucking freaks and geeks and LOSERS.”

“Okay. Yeah, you’re right. We’re not. We’re nothing. We’re not special at all... but it still doesn’t explain why you hate us so much or why you’re doing any of this.”

Karofsky stomped over, almost charging up to Finn and leaning into his ear close enough that Finn could feel his hot breath and spittle hit his skin when he spoke. “Okay. You wanna know, I’ll tell ya! You fuck-ing ru-ined my life, that’s why,” he bristled, enunciating each syllable in staccato.

Finn tried to remain calm and unfazed despite his own trepidation and the brute’s proximity while keeping a side eye on that gun that was still in his hand, although currently pointed at the floor. 

“But how? What the hell did I do, man? What did ANY of us ever do for you treat us like shit for so long, and then to do THIS? For YEARS you’ve made our lives hell. Especially Kurt, who’d never hurt a fucking fly – what could he have possibly done for you to threaten his life, huh? And for you to do all of THIS today?”

“Yeah right, like that little faggot Hummel didn’t spill his guts and squeal like a little pig after I got expelled. Quit fucking playing like you don’t know what happened!”

“I swear to god man, I swear on RACHEL’S LIFE I don't! Kurt never would tell any of us what the hell happened with you two – other than you threatening to kill him. But he never said WHY you threatened him in the first place. And Kurt’s no bully man, he’d never do anything to hurt anyone else, so why?”

“What the hell does it even matter, huh? You never cared about ME! You were never my friend, not really.”

“That’s not true, man. We used to be friends, remember? Me, you and Puck? We used to hang out all the time.”

“Yeah well, that was a long time ago. Before you got the big QB title, and the hot blonde on your arm with everyone kissing your ass like you walked on water. Then you really went off the reservation and got all holier than thou, climbed up top of your freak flagpole and joined the Gay Pride Parade crowd. Telling us what a bunch of LOSERS we are because we don’t wanna prance around singing show tunes all day promoting the gay plague.”

“Dude, what the hell is your fucking problem?! None of those kids ever even looked in your direction and all you’ve ever done is harass the hell outta them. And for the record, KURT is the only gay dude in Glee. I don’t get why you’re so hell bent on talking shit about–”

“Because they OFFEND ME! Their existence OFFENDS ME! All of ‘em! It spreads like fucking wildfire! Then you all band together, like worker bees and you spread your gay love and acceptance and it’s SICKENING!” He turned on heel and wielded the gun in Rachel’s direction, and Finn felt his heart drop. “This one over here and her big fucking mouth and her opinions about everything, SHE offends me! The two FAGS that raised her OFFEND me! She’s like the queen of the queers, so I figure, take out the queen and hive collapses.” 

Finn wasn’t sure what an actual heart attack felt like or if a 17-year-old could get one, but he was pretty sure he was having one now. His voice was tremorous as he leaned in Rachel’s direction and pleaded “C’mon Dave, stop pointing that thing at her, please! PLEASE! You can just let her go, okay? She won’t talk, I swear. There’s an exit out the back, you can just send her out and nobody needs to know. She won’t say a word about you.”

“Yeah right! I open those doors and a million cops and SWAT teams jump me, are you serious? I’m not that dumb! Besides, she’s part of the fun now! Whatsamatter Huddy Buddy? You’re way too worried about this little Jew skank. You dumped her on her ass a while ago, right? But seems like you still got a soft spot for this freaky slut, huh?” Karofsky’s hand slid menacingly up Rachel’s leg and rested on her knee. “Although I gotta admit, she may have skeeter bites for tits, but her legs are kinda hot, and when’s she’s nice and quiet like this she could be a LOT of fun...”

If Finn were a dragon he would’ve breathed fire and incinerated that fucker on the spot. “Don’t call her that shit! And get your goddamn hands off her! She never did a damn thing to you! Just don’t fucking touch her!” The vengeful boy shot Finn a lascivious maniacal grin as his hand was about to breach the hemline of Rachel’s skirt and Finn’s pleading went into overdrive, almost lunging off the piano bench. “Just don’t, please PLEASE leave her alone! I’ll do anything if you just back off and leave her be!”

Karofsky paused his actions, stilling his hand on Rachel’s inner thigh and flashed a fiendishly curious smirk. 

“Oh yeah? Anything? Like what?”

Realizing maybe he had his attention enough to deter any further violation of Rachel’s unconscious body, Finn said whatever he thought would keep Dave’s focus on him and not her. “Anything you want. Just, just name it... you have all the power here, dude.”

It made Finn sick to resort to begging. The words coming from his lips tasted like vinegar, but at least this asshole was still talking and not actually doing any more damage. He hoped he could keep this distraction tactic going long enough until help arrived. 

“That’s right. I do. .... So, anything, huh?” Dave scratched at his chin, face twisted in thoughts that felt so devious they radiated off him and permeated Finn’s skin and he immediately regretted ever making such a statement. But for the sake of Rachel’s safety, he’d do damn near anything. “Would you suck my dick?”

Uh... anything, except THAT.

“What?!”

“You just said you’d do ANYTHING, right?”

“Well yeah, but I mean, I-I didn’t think–”

“Y’know, I could snap her scrawny little neck like a twig right now and there ain’t a damn thing you could do to stop me. So what would you be willing to do to save her life? Huh? Would suck my fat cock?”

Finn wanted to vomit. For so many reasons. He was stuck in this helpless position now, and so was Rachel. Some fucking white knight savior he was. And now it seemed he had to rely on his TALKING SKILLS – or something far more unthinkable – to get them out of this mess. 

Just great; they were both doomed.

. . . . .

“Man, I shoulda clocked him. Shoulda knocked his lights out,” Puck mumbled softly into his arms folded around the knees that were pulled up to his chest. 

Kurt sniffled and whispered a reply, “Mmhmm. Maybe... though I doubt it would’ve changed anything. The minute he came to and remembered Rachel was out there alone, he would have just done the same thing. I KNEW he’d end up doing something stupid to try and rescue her.”

Puck pulled an unconvinced face. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed it. I mean, him and Berry have been busted for months now... and it IS Hudson we’re talking about. He’s not exactly a Casanova or real great at the grand gestures.”

“Yeah. You keep telling yourself that, Puckerman,” Kurt patted his forearm patronizingly. “Did you forget about his epic serenade to her in this very room whilst we were in the dark throes of the Jesse St James era last year?” 

“Oh yeah, that. I try like hell to block that crap out.... Perfect example of being completely whipped.”

Kurt smirked a little even as he wiped a few remaining tears away. “You think singing to a girl equates to being whipped. Yet you’ve serenaded Quinn, Rachel, Mercedes AND Lauen....? That’s more than half the female population of the club.”

Puck shrugged, unfazed. “That was different. I was showing my softer side – and it worked like a fuckin’ charm every time B-T-W... Besides, I’m still a badass no matter what. And my songs weren’t all beggin’ and desperate like his was. I was showing off my mad guitar skills and profound studliness; he was whining and groveling for scraps from an unavailable chick.”

Kurt rolled his red-rimmed eyes. “Okay whatever... moving on. Did you also know the very first time he told her he loved her was right before they performed Faithfully at last year’s regionals?”

“No shit?! You serious?”

“As a school shooting.” Puck pulled a face and Kurt looked guiltily back. “Sorry. Inappropriate. Sometimes when I’m under extreme duress the worst part of my dark humor rears its ugly head.... Anyway. He also apparently gave her a lovely charm necklace on the very same Valentine’s Day that should’ve been their first together as a couple, even though they were broken up, along with some heart-rending speech that she’s recited to me ad-nauseum by now.”

“What a pussy.” 

Kurt sighed. “The point is, Finn CAN do the grand gestures; he just sometimes needs the right push or inspiration. And wasn’t it you who pointed out how romantic it was for him to make such a grand gesture to go after her like that to win the girl back?”

“No, actually you’re the one who brought up romance. I only said it was a cool way to SHOW IT and win her back – if that’s what he was trying to do. But yeah, I guess you’d have to be blind, deaf and pretty much stupid to not know how he still feels about her. Even if he’s done a piss-poor job of showing her this year, and an even WORSE one trying to get over her. Who the hell did he think he was fooling anyway?” He glanced across the room at the statuesque green-eyed girl still whispering with Mercedes. “And then like, boomeranging back to Q? As if he didn’t get enough of that poison the first time?” 

“Poison? Isn’t that a bit harsh coming from you?”

“No. It’s actually a pretty accurate firsthand account. Why?”

“I don’t know. She’s your baby mama. I guess I just thought you had a thing for her yourself, Puckerman?” Kurt said dryly. “No wonder you’re still single.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll notice we’re NOT together now though. And there IS a reason for that. Although maybe I’ll be damned if I know what it is exactly. I think the chick is still just too screwed in the head after giving Beth away. Anyway, I made an effort with her and it was totally wasted. Old Sammy boy with his goofy Bieber bangs and big froggy lips came along and swept her back into her quarterback-slash-head cheerleader fantasies. She’s just too strung out on the popularity thing again. 

“There’s very few chicks on the planet the Puckasaurus would hang up his sex shark fins for and she was one of ‘em. But I ain’t THAT guy, y’know, the LEADER, the clean-cut, wholesome, boy-next-door dope. And I’m probably never gonna be. So I guess what I DID have to offer didn’t matter much.”

Kurt looked at the mohawked boy next to him sympathetically. “Or maybe your trek to juvie mattered more and undid whatever strides or inroads you’d made with her?”

“Pfft. Shove it, Hummel... Maybe I’m just still too screwed in the head too...she was half mine, after all.” A long pause passed between them, and he looked at Quinn again, who was still wiping stray tears from her eyes while leaning against Mercedes’ shoulder. Kurt didn’t bother to ask about Beth or how his friend felt about giving her up; his emotions were written pretty plainly on his face. “I’m such a fucking dick. I shouldn’t have been around Rachel at all that day... I feel like this shit is all my fault.”

“What, for kissing her?” Kurt whispered, the shock of hearing Puck’s admission clear even in his hushed tone.

“Yeah. If we hadn’t messed around that day, they wouldn’t have ever broken up and Q wouldn’t have started fucking with HIS head again. The Finchel show could still be in full swing uninterrupted and they’d both be sitting in here with all of us right now.”

“You’re trying to take the blame for their breakup, AND their current predicament? Seriously, Puck, get over yourself. You don’t know any of that is true. Even if they were still a couple to this day, Rachel being RACHEL, she still could’ve stormed off for any number of reasons the way she did today, and we’d still be where we are now. 

“As for the rest, I know you didn’t help things for them all those months ago, but by all accounts, Rachel was clearly unhinged at that time. If it hadn’t been you, she surely would’ve found another way to overreact in a highly unsavory Diva fit that likely would’ve ended them anyway, whether by her own decision or his. I’m actually rather shocked she wasn’t the one to end it preemptively after that horrible green room scene at sectionals.”

“Dude? You weren’t even there. You were still in the enemy Warbler camp that night.”

“True but trust me I got the full color commentary play-by-play later. Mercedes Jones has a real gift for recalling the juicy details, and I heard PLENTY enough to know – both from her AND Rachel, it was a horror show.... Well, okay. Maybe not one as bad as what we’re CURRENTLY living through,” He sucked in a long breath and some fresh tears streamed down his face. Kurt tilted his head back against the bookcase and stared at the ceiling. “AHHH I hate this! They both better be safe and hiding somewhere. I can’t lose anyone else close to me. And I can’t consider having to deliver bad news to his mother. She already lost one Hudson man in her life... I can’t even think it...”

“Then don’t.” Puck nudged against Kurt’s shoulder with his own, then patted the smaller boy on the back when his tears picked up in volume. “Okay, Pretty Pants. Ya gotta stop now. You’re gonna make me start bawling like a little girl too.” 

“I’d pay cash money to see that,” Kurt whispered through a slight chuckle.

Puck sniffed and buried his head back in the arms he still had wrapped around his knees, cringing at the thought of  Rachel or Finn being caught at the business end of a shooter’s loaded gun. He swiped at his own eyes once with his thumb and index finger then hung his head. “You might not have to. Just shut up already.”

. . . . .

This was madness! Sue Sylvester NEVER fails! She is a WINNER. A national CHAMPION. A crafty, blue ribbon, certifiable superstar in her own right, and yet she was stuck in a situation where she couldn’t seem to come out on top for the first time in her life. 

No; that simply wouldn’t do. She thought about the kids and the new information Becky had provided. It sounded like Lumps the Clown and Baby Streisand had been herded into the auditorium – although why, she had no idea. Neither one of those kids were armed, so unless they planned on singing the bad guy to death they had no real defense against this particular menace. 

And now Becky was off to try and intervene to save them, and what defense would that tiny little thing be able to put up? She’s a sassy little spitfire who could sure throw a xylophone around, but a 230-pound former linebacker? The girl didn’t stand a chance!

Well, if Sue couldn’t help them directly, she could at least DIRECT those who could. It seemed Figgins was already out of the game and unable to offer any oversight (as much as she hated to speak ill of the dead, honestly, his ineffectuality in death wasn’t much different than it was in life). Sue had served as acting Principal before; she realized the command post should fall to her once again, so take charge she finally would. 

Knowing the likely location of the threat, she used it to her advantage. First, she made her way in the opposite direction to the sewing supplies in the home ec room to fashion a white flag from that pillowcase from the nurse’s office. Next, she wheeled herself to the main entrance, waving the flag ahead of her out the door in hopes it would be enough to prevent Reckless the Rookie and Swifty Sweaty Palms from acting on their itchy trigger fingers. Surely they’d recognize the international sign of TRUCE and NOT shoot at her. 

She just hoped her brave, valiant efforts would not only save her own life (which she felt surly was waning at this point from massive hemorrhaging despite that make-shift tourniquet) but also that her heroism would save Becky. And y’know, Gomez and Morticia Addams and the rest of the Glee club dweebs too.

. . . . .

“Would you suck my fat cock?”

The words reverberated in his brain. Finn’s stomach lurched as he swallowed bile back down his throat. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Anger, confusion, fear and utter panic on a level he’d never felt before overwhelmed him, almost making him dizzy.

What was the smart answer here? If he said no, would Rachel die? But if he said yes... oh god... 

His hands were tied – literally. Rachel’s too. She was bound, gagged, unconscious and more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her. People were already dead down the hall. All his friends were still trapped in the choir room and this fucker with the gun could easily go find a way in and hurt them too. For all he knows, the son of a bitch still plans to do that. The cops were outside but why was it taking them so fucking long to come help? 

He kinda had NO options left, no ace up his sleeve, unless he could think of something super clever, super fast. He meant what he said, he’d do pretty much anything to save Rachel. But he just couldn’t believe Karofsky could even dare ask him to do such a thing! Especially given his very obvious deep hatred and bigotry against gay people. So WHY would he even say that?! Unless... 

Okay, Finn had heard Santana say something recently, a theory she had about Karofsky. Finn couldn’t believe it then, completely dismissed it out of hand as San being, well, crazy. But the more he thought about it, just maybe the girl might’ve been onto something he didn’t see sooner, and the pieces slowly started to click into place. And maybe this was the way to keep this bastard talking. (It could also be the immediate end of everything, but at least it’d be over.) It was risky, but it’s all he had...

“Why Dave, do you want me to? Is that what you’re saying, huh? Are you asking me to suck you off?” Finn wanted so badly to throw up at just the idea, and saying the words didn’t help the waves of nausea at the thought of this disgusting, hulking beast putting his business anywhere near him. But Finn had given it all of about ten seconds thought and knew if it came down to a choice between him or Rachel, he’d rather be the one to take whatever torture was coming and save Rachel from that kind of trauma. The idea of that fucker even thinking about doing something like that her... no. He couldn't even consider it.

He watched as the color drained from Dave’s face and the sinister smile he wore contorted into an incredulous shape. “Wha- NO! Are you fucking sick, Hudson? Pretty sure it’s YOU who likes sucking cocks, Deep Throat. Just like your butt-buddy twinkie brother. You two take turns on giving and receiving, or are you just a bottom? You sneak into each other’s beds at night when mommy and daddy are sleeping and pound the shit out of each other? I bet you do. Fuckin’ fags!”

Despite the rage and overwhelming desire to rearrange this douchebag's face which he was sure was bursting all the blood vessels in his head, Finn tried his damndest to keep a relatively cool facade. “You sure have an awful vivid imagination there, Dave. That’s a hell of a lotta questions about gay sex. Why so curious, man? Something I don’t know about you? It’s okay you know. You can admit it.”

 “NO, you fucking asshole! All that gay ass-humping is just WRONG! It’s against the natural order of things, it’s–”

“Is that what people have said about you, Dave? Did someone say that you’re some kind of freak, or there’s something wrong with you?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“They did, right? That’s what it is, isn’t it? You wanna tell the world but you can’t, and you hate yourself. Or maybe whoever you did tell turned on you, right? Look man, I’m not gonna judge. Like you said, my brother is gay, Rachel’s dads are gay. And no, I’m not, but I got no problems with gay people. Love is love, man. Kurt should be allowed to love whoever he chooses... and so should you. Is that why you hate him so much? Because he’s braver than you? Because he can say the words out loud that you can’t?” 

“I’m gonna fucking kill you motherfucker! SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH! Just shut up!” Karofsky screamed and punched Finn in the stomach. Finn doubled over, coughing, feeling like his kidneys had been rammed up his throat.

The punch didn’t deter him though. He wasn’t going to show this bastard any fear or weakness. “Yeah well, you already said you would, and you kinda got me all tied up right now with a loaded gun on me, so I guess it’s possible you mean it. But I don’t understand what the real problem is here. If you’re gonna kill me anyway at least you can explain it to me. What the fuck happened to you to make you go to all these extremes? I know it’s not anything Kurt did.”

Finn braced for the worst, expecting to get hit again, but Karofsky started pacing around getting himself worked into some kind of emotional frenzy. 

“You really wanna know? Fine, I’ll tell ya what happened. It all starts with YOU! You who had to jump ship, join these little queers and weirdos. You who had to go and rock the boat, upset the status quo. Tried to make the jocks and the faggots play nice in the same sandbox. You turned into the fairy king, Hudson, and since you were the fucking QB we were all expected to fall in line and do what YOU wanted!”

Dave’s arms flailed wildly as he paced and ranted, then he stopped directly in front of Finn, poking an accusing finger into the taller boy’s chest as he spoke. “And your little tricks almost worked didn't they? You brainwashed me and the rest of the fucking team, and we played along with your stupid little zombie party for the big conference game...” then he resumed pacing as he continued “but you know what? Your queer-boy brother just couldn’t keep his eyes off me! And he made me so fucking MAD! Flaunting his shit around this school like he was somebody untouchable! Dressing like he was too good for us. Well I showed him! I touched him alright! He coulda had a real MAN for a change but instead he went crying to his little boyfriend from Dalton, and they tried to make me admit I was like them! I’M NOT LIKE THEM! Little pussy boy fags! I shoulda killed him right then and there, both of ‘em! But I didn’t... And the next thing I know, you and his old man are threatening me and I’m being hauled to fucking Figgins’ office and being EXPELLED. Because YOU said you HEARD me threaten Kurt.”

Finn was fuming. “Sure I did, asshole! You THREATENED TO KILL my brother, man! And you nearly put him in the hospital with a nervous breakdown from all your fucking bullying! Seriously dude, what the hell did he do that you needed to treat him that way? He NEVER did a thing to you, never even TALKED to you, even when he was on the football team with us he avoided you. In a whole school of kids, you kept singling him out and coming back to torture him over and over... and I know he’s holding back the truth about things. Something more happened with you and him, but he won’t say what. So why not just tell me now? Consider this like, your personal confessional, since you’re planning to kill me anyway, right? Just y’know, purge and get it off your chest.”

“You’re fucked up Hudson. But you know what? Maybe you’re not so far off the mark. You ARE gonna die today anyway, so I guess it won’t hurt to finally say it to someone... and anyway, I’m not making it out of this day alive either, so maybe it doesn’t even fucking matter anymore.”

“Seriously? You’re planning to off yourself too? So why cause all this damage to so many other people? S’Not like you’ll be around to get some sick satisfaction about it later.”

“No, but I get the satisfaction of watching everyone who ruined MY life suffer and die first! Just like I DIED a little bit every day since YOUR LIES helped get me expelled and destroy my whole world! You don’t have any idea how fucked my life has been since then... you don’t know how bad it is for me at my new school. How the guys in the locker room won’t change or shower if I’m in there... or how my MOM saw the shit they posted online and believed it! I tried to tell her, I’m no fag! You know it too, Hudson! I’ve always been all about the babes!”

Finn wanted to laugh at this asshole. He might SAY the words but... “Well I mean, I’ve heard you talk about it, but I’ve never actually seen you with a girl, like EVER. But that’s okay if–”

“Shut your fat fucking mouth! I’m no homo! You need proof? Cause there’s a sweet little – I’m betting still virginal – cherry Berry pie sitting right here and I’d be happy to prove it to you!” To further provoke Finn, he kneeled down in front of her and ran a finger up Rachel’s leg.

Finn growled ferally, “Don’t you fucking touch her Karofsky! Don’t you fucking dare or I swear I’ll–”

“You’ll what?! You’ll sit and WATCH? Helplessly, as I fuck her brains out? As I stick it to her in every orifice while you do absolutely NOTHING about it?” He stood again and hovered over Rachel with his eyes fixed on Finn as he licked a stripe up her cheek. “Mmmm... I bet she tastes real sweet, doesn’t she?”

Finn could taste the blood in his mouth from biting his cheeks and tongue, snarling and struggling against the tape on his wrists, wanting so badly to pulverize this asshole... if he could get his hands on that gun, he already knows he’d pull the trigger. Easy. He stood up then, ready to lunge. “So what, you wanna die a murderer AND a rapist, is that what you’re saying?” Finn spat at the large boy who by then had his slimy fucking hand on Rachel’s shoulder, his fingers slowly creeping toward her breast.

Dave shrugged indifferently. “Well, s’not like it’d matter really. But I could pound her little snatch raw and she’d be begging for more because I’m so good and–”

“But I thought you wanted me to give you head? So which is it Dave? Or are you a switch hitter? Just get the hell away from her NOW!” As Finn took a step toward him ready to try and tackle him, Karofsky pulled the pistol that had been holstered in his waistband and aimed it at Finn again.

Finn backed up and sat back down on the piano bench as Karofsky walked over and clubbed him in the face with the butt end of the gun, splitting his lip. He clutched Finn’s jaw tightly in his meaty grasp, twisting his thick fingers into his flesh hard enough to leave a bruise while turning Finn’s face upward to look him in the eye. “Keep running your mouth asshole. Maybe I’ll knock out all those pretty little teeth of yours, make it all the better for when I skull-fuck you.” Karofsky let go of him roughly, and Finn spat out the blood that had pooled in his mouth.

Finn kept his voice as even as possible. There was no way he was gonna act afraid or intimidated; he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.  “Go ahead. Do your worst to me if it makes you feel better. I’m just saying, there’s no shame in being gay, Dave.”

The burly boy looked at Finn incredulously. “You shitting me? You have ANY FUCKING IDEA how much HATE there is in this world?! You have any idea how many people would sooner round up anyone they even THINK is a fag and boil them oil or something?... Even people’s own PARENTS can’t accept them, do you know what that feels like? To have your own MOTHER tell you what an ABOMINATION you are? Or to have your grandfather look at you like you’re scum and wanna send you away to one of those camps to like, pray the gay out of you?” As Dave ranted on and on tears thick in his eyes, it was clear he was in agonizing pain. “All that hate I dumped on Kurt... all because I was supposed to... because being gay is like the ULTIMATE sin or the biggest shame on earth, and it’s what REAL MEN are supposed to do, right? Beat up on the weaklings, the freaks, the fairies... I did everything they ever taught me and still…”

Finn wasn’t sure if the guy was still talking to him or just rambling now, but one thing was crystal clear to him: Karofsky doesn’t hate Kurt; he hates himself. He hates who he is, but also he hates what he’s done to others because of how much he hates himself. The more the guy talked the more Finn heard his remorse, every word dipped in self-loathing and regret. He honestly felt bad for the guy – or he could, if he weren’t y’know, trying to KILL them.

Maybe he hates his family too, or maybe he hates that they hate him... like, what was all this about his mother and his grandad? That’s twice he brought up his family. Sounds like they suck. How could somebody’s own family turn their backs on them, just for being gay – or bi, or whatever the hell was going on with Dave? Finn couldn’t wrap his head around it. He didn’t know anyone with that kind of hate in their heart. Or well, he didn’t used to, but maybe he does now. This guy in front of him here was surely full of something dark.

“Who the hell even told you any of that shit’s true, Dave? I know it wasn’t your dad. Kurt and his dad both said your dad was pretty cool and he seemed like a real stand-up guy. So who the fuck is putting all this poison in your head, man? I mean, okay I know the guys in the locker room here can be assholes, especially Azimio but–”

“You don’t know SHIT, Hudson! Adams is no different than any other NORMAL red-blooded American guy. He’s my best fucking friend. Or at least he was, until YOU came along and helped wreck everything. Now he won’t even talk to me!”

“What? What the hell do I have to do with–”

“Can’t you understand it yet?! You messed up EVERYTHING for me! You lied, so I got kicked out. My mother and my Grandpa Murray both kicked my ass over getting expelled. They shipped me off to some fancy new private school instead of military school, except guess what? I wasn’t there for two full weeks before some fucking ASSHOLE sent an anonymous singing dancing gorilla-gram to me. The fucker showed up in the locker room at my new school and sang some shitty song about a secret admirer, talking about me going to a gay bar, saying I was trying to bang some loser from that faggy Dalton Academy. And it happened right before practice, so all the guys were there. And guess what? They fucking believed that shit! Whether it was true or not, just the rumor alone was enough for them to fucking make my life HELL! They posted shit all over the internet about it, including videos!”

“But I still don’t understand what I have to do with–”

“I know it was YOU, dipwad! Either you or your big-mouth faggot brother! One of you two sent that stupid gorilla to DESTROY me!”

“NO! Dave I swear to you, I didn’t pull any shit like that, I would NEVER do something that crappy to someone, and neither would Kurt! Why the hell would you think it was us?”

“Because! Kurt and his fruity little boyfriend were the only ones who SAW ME there, the only ones who knew!”

Finn did a double take wondering if he’d meant to say that out loud. “Saw you wh– wait. Did you actually go to a gay bar? Dave... hey man. It’s okay, y’know? I won’t judge you for being gay, if that’s what you–”

“Are you deaf? I AM NOT! I mean I can’t be! It’s a fucking sickness, a disease... like I’d be defective or something!”

“Look man. I don’t know, I’m not expert in this stuff, okay, but... some stuff I’ve learned since getting to know Kurt is, you– I mean, gay people are NOT defective or diseased. They were born with those feelings and there’s nothing wrong about it. It’s not learned, not contagious, not a choice... and man, I would never shit all over anyone who thought they might be gay or bi or whatever.”

“Yeah right! Then why the fuck did you help to get me kicked out of McKinely?”

Finn at least wanted this lunatic to know the truth about why he lied and claimed to be Kurt’s eyewitness to the death threat, even if it didn’t make any difference to his own outcome today. If nothing else he was finally gonna say what he’d been wanting to say to this guy forever now.

“Dave I just wanted Kurt to be safe, okay? You KNOW you crossed the line with him, man. You wouldn't lay off him, and the damn school wasn’t doing enough to protect him! I promised Kurt and his dad that as his brother I’d look out for him from now on. So anything I’ve done, it’s only because you’ve acted like a total ASSHOLE and a complete bully for years with nobody stopping you! It was time to put you in check because someone was gonna get hurt. People I love and care about, MY FAMILY were being hurt, by YOU. Shoe on the other foot, you woulda done the same thing. You know you would’ve.”

Karofsky stopped pacing and stared Finn down for a long beat, deep in thought. “Okay maybe. It doesn’t change facts that everyone at my new school and my whole family and now everyone all over the damn INTERNET thinks I’m a fucking Nancy Boy now. My own grandparents have disowned me. My mother took a belt to me to ‘beat the gay’ out of me. I have no place that’s safe and nobody on my side... except maybe my old man, but he’s never fucking home. He’s always away on business. Nobody gives a shit about what I have to suffer through, so why should I give a shit about anyone else?

“And now, I’ve lost EVERYTHING. My school, my rep, my friends... I can’t play football anymore, so I have like NO chance at college. I can’t even face my own family -- I’m an embarrassment to them. They’re talking about sending me to some conversion camp or some shit. Fuck that. And fuck this world! And FUCK YOU for ruining my life! And fuck the goddamned GLEE CLUB for existing at all! It all started with that shitty fucking gay ass club!”

Finn could see he was coming unhinged again, and a small part of him did feel a little sorry for what he’s been struggling with… but that doesn’t make it okay to go shooting up a school or to hurt Kurt or Rachel! But as long as he could keep the guy talking he felt like maybe they were still safe – but he felt like time was running out. GAHH where’s the damn rescue team already?!

“I’m sorry Dave. I am. I’m so fucking sorry. I can... look, if that’s true about your family, that’s not right man. Not everyone feel like that though. And… I can help you, okay? I mean your dad seems like he really cares about you. We can uh.. W-we can get you some help...”

“You’re fucking demented in the brain, right? What are you, stupid or something? I’VE KILLED PEOPLE NOW! You think anyone’s gonna give a shit if I live or die? You think I don’t know my life is over? It was already over before I opened those front doors today...  And it’s a whole lot of YOUR fault, and Homo Hummel’s,” he looks at Rachel again “and her for that matter!” he screamed pointing the gun at Rachel and beginning to march closer to her again.

“Dave, Dave NO! No no no, j-just point the gun this way man, point it at me, okay? Just leave Rach out of everything- you’re right. It was me, all my fault, I-I’m the one that ruined things for you, right? So point it at me, not her!”

Karofsky looked possessed at that point. Something inside him clearly snapped and it seemed like there’d be no reigning him back in now.

“Nah... No, nope.” He shook the gun at Finn as he spoke. “You need to know REAL PAIN. You need to know hurt the way I know hurt. I know what she is to you. I know how much you care about her. I saw you two sucking face and staring longingly into each other’s eyes all the damn time. Even when you weren’t together, after she cheated on you, I saw how much you still loved her. I’d be taking this punishment out on your fucking brother if I could, but he’s not here and you are – and so is she. And you’re just as guilty as him, probably more because YOU were the one who joined glee and stirred up all this GAYNESS in this fucking school! Maybe you sent the gorilla-gram, maybe you didn’t, but you’re the one who’s gonna pay the price now. You and all your hippy-dippy rainbows and unicorns beliefs and kumbaya love-in bullshit. The world doesn’t act that way! The world SHITS on people who are FREAKS, who aren’t NORMAL! Just like this little singing freak here! You never learned her place in the food chain and now she’s like, taking over the damn school, hell maybe the whole damn TOWN by now!”

Dave removed the gag from Rachel’s mouth and stood behind her, shoving at her shoulders hard to jostle her awake. “Wakey wakey, little freak! C’mon, rise and shine, time to say goodbye!”

Finn’s heart raced as he watched his worst nightmare unfolding. “Dave please man, don’t! Just leave her be! You don’t have to--”

“Finn?” Rachel groaned as she opened her eyes slowly, squinting and shaking her head to clear the fog. When her confused, scared chocolate eyes settled on Finn’s face she could see his fear plain as day and panic ripped through her again. “Finn, are you okay? What’s happening?”

Tears pooled in Finn’s eyes and his voice cracked from the lump in his throat. “Rachel, hey, Rach baby, I love you. I love you so much and it’s gonna be okay, okay? You’re gonna be okay.” He knew he was lying through his teeth, much as he wanted to believe his own words, but the situation seemed to be in dire straits and he knew he really had no control over a madman with a gun. And right now it sure looked like his stalling tactics were at the end of the road.

Karofsky stood behind Rachel with a mocking look of approval, his voice thick with sarcasm when he spoke. “Awww, listen to that! You hear that, you dumb Jew bitch? He looooves you! How freaking poetic! Do you loooove him too?”

Rachel jumped at the sound of his voice so close to her ear and turned her head to look at him. “David? David is that you? Wh-what are you doing? Wh-why are you doing this? I-I don’t understand...” Rachel asked in a small, quivering voice. “Finn and I haven’t done anything to you. Please just let us go and we won’t tell anyone we even saw you.”

“Shut up bitch!” He smacked her hard in the side of the head with the gun barrel and she cried out in pain. Blood trailed down along the side of her face and a slew of profanities and threats streamed from Finn’s mouth as he fought against his own restraints in a futile attempt to free his hands. Ignoring him, Karofsky leaned down, growling lowly in Rachel’s face, “We don’t get to leave this game, you and me. It’s blood in, blood out. And you’re blood is next up. Time to say bye bye to your little boyfriend.” He glanced from her face to Finn’s and waved his fingers at Finn teasingly.

Continuous streams of tears ran down her bruised, bloodied cheeks. She turned her gaze to Finn’s beautiful but clearly petrified face. She’d never seen him look so ghostly pale or scared. She was sure at this point there was no escape, so all she could do now was try to comfort him and let him know one last time how much he meant to her. 

“Finn, it was always you. It was always only you... I love you, Finn. With my whole heart. I always have and I always will... remember me, okay? It’s alright, I’ll be okay... Just p-please don’t forget me... and never forget how deeply I love you, forever.”

“RACH! God no baby, no I could never forget you! I love you so much, it’s gonna be okay though, we’re gonna be together again, I swear! I love you–”

Karofsky laughed cruelly as he looked at Finn who was openly sobbing now. “Alright alright, enough of that pansy Romeo and Juliet shit. Hey – you know how that movie ends, right? See, I got us the PERFECT reenactment setup happening right here—ON  A STAGE too! Fuck that’s brilliant! C’mon now, Romeo, time to beg! I wanna hear you beg, Finny Pooh! Go on, beg for her life!” he chuckled darkly as he stood in front of Rachel and pressed the gun barrel against her forehead. He looked at Finn with the evilest grin Finn had ever seen. “Brave guy huh? You wanna watch this? Okay, but I bet her head’s gonna explode like a fucking melon though!”

“Dave stop this, please please PLEASE! You don’t have to do it! Kill me instead man, okay?” Rachel shrieked, “– NO FINN!– ” but Finn kept pleading, practically falling onto his knees, hysterical. “– Kill me, okay? Just let her go!” Finn watched as the gun barrel touched Rachel’s flawless skin and she focused her eyes only on him, and he went into a full-blown panic attack. “DAMMIT DAVE, NO!! Fucking DON’T don’t don’t, okay, j-j-just FUUUCK don’t don’t don’t okay? Please? Just just fucking stop! You can’t! You don’t have to do this, it was me right? It was me, kill me not her kill me, pleeeeease let her live!” tears streamed down his face unabashedly as he pleaded for Rachel’s life. His next words were hiccuped and nearly inaudible since he’d screamed out most of his voice by that point. “I love you Rach! Baby I’m so sorry, I tried but I couldn’t.. I swear I tried... but I love you so fucking much, baby! I’ll find you I promise… Dave c'mon man, c’mon, pl-please don’t fucking do this! You don’t have to do this--” 

“HEY DOUBLE STUFF!”

Three sets of eyes on the stage turned at once to see a small but very determined Becky Jackson still wearing her Cheerios uniform standing at the edge of the stage with what looked like a gun aimed at Karofsky. 

“That’s right. I’m talking to you Karofsky. Freeze, dirtbag! Drop the gun!”

Dave turned to fully face the short blonde-haired girl, a mix of humor and disbelief written all over his face.

“Go ahead punk. Make. My. Day.”  Becky said to the stunned boy whose gun was still roughly aimed in the direction of Rachel.

“What the hell? Jesus, did another one of your freaks escape the asylum and manage to sneak back into the mothership here without me noticing?” He looked at Finn with mock seriousness and asked “You guys have trap doors and secret passages in this place or what?”

“Shut it Karofsky and let them both go. Now,” Becky demanded, both hands holding her weapon steadfastly with her arms fully extended. “You’re in BIG trouble, mister.”

Dave snorted at her in response. “This is a fucking joke, right? Why the hell would I listen to you, ya little midget mongoloid? Isn’t there a Wizard of Oz revival calling your name somewhere?”

“ZIP IT, jerk! Now hand over your weapon, and untie them both, now!”

Karofsky took a step in her direction with a menacing look on his face. “Or else what?”

Becky cocked her head to the side defiantly. “Or else I’ll shoot you, that’s what. DUH!”

He put both hands partway up, took a step toward her and did little wiggle while waving his arms in mock surrender. “Oooo I’m so scared of a little Downie! That isn’t even a real gun, is it?” he barked. “Shit, what the hell kinda gun is that anyway? Wait, is- is that a flare gun?”

“It’s real enough to LIGHT YOU UP, Karofsky. And I’m gonna burn you downtown if you don’t let them go.”

Karofsky scoffed at Becky and casually pointed the gun at Rachel again, finger on the trigger and said “Okay, enough screwing around, playtime’s over.” He turned his head to look at Rachel and winked at her. “Time’s up bitch.”

Rachel’s tear-filled eyes could only look at the boy she loved more than life as she breathed his name one last time. “Finn...”

* * * BANG * * *

Becky watched on in horror and couldn’t believe what she saw. 

David Karofsky was about to shoot Rachel in the head, but just as he pulled the trigger, Finn jumped up and threw himself in front of Rachel. She watched on in utter terror as the tall handsome quarterback’s face twisted in pain and he collapsed across Rachel’s lap. A large patch of red began spreading across his chest, and Rachel Berry screamed like a banshee.

Becky was frozen to her spot, speechless, unsure what she was looking at, but she knew it was bad. “Finny Bear!” She cried out once. 

A split second later the auditorium was a beehive of sound and activity.

The doors burst open from all sides of the theater space at once. Hordes of SWAT team guys in flak jackets with automatic weapons swarmed in from every direction -- including guys dropping down on ropes from the overhead mezzanine balconies flanking the theater space. More police with shields and guns surged forward from the left and right wings of the stage, all stopping at a safe distance away from the quartet of teens collected at center stage.

Becky dropped her flare gun on the floor and put her hands up while crying out tearfully, “You guys are TOO LATE! He shot him! He shot my Finny Bear! Arrest him! Arrest that jerk! Take him out!”

Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around Becky’s waist scooping her right off the floor and carried her out of the room to safety. 

As the authorities pushed in closer to the stage, dozens of red laser dots floated over Dave Karofsky’s torso and head. Dave took one last look at a now profusely bleeding and unmoving Finn Hudson. 

Finn’s unblinking eyes were still wide open and fixed on Rachel’s face, his mouth hanging open as if frozen that way while Rachel keened and wailed hysterically, her tears raining down all over his cheeks. 

Seeing the little red dots glowing against his shirt, Dave roared “Fuck you pigs and fuck this life!” He then turned his weapon on himself, placing the gun barrel flush under his chin pointed upwards.

The police surrounding them held their distance and shouted a variety of commands.

“Don’t shoot don’t shoot!”

“Hold you fire! Nobody shoot!” 

“Drop your weapon, son!” 

“Don’t do it! You don’t need to do it!”

“Just surrender to us kid, we’ll get you some help. Just drop it and come with–” 

* * * BANG * * *

Rachel’s ear-piercing wailing abruptly silenced as she slumped in her seat, her chin almost touching Finn’s right cheek, and the entire theater went silent as a grave.

As Karofsky's body swayed, teetered, then finally crumbled down onto the stage floor with a loud thud, a group of officers rushed in around his lifeless form, kicking the gun from his hand sending it skittering across the stage. Thick, dark red liquid oozed from an obviously fatal gaping head wound, puddling around his left cheek that was planted flat against the polished ebony stage floor. 

One officer cautiously approached and checked Karofsky’s pulse while several others kept their weapons trained on him. Behind them, a separate group tended to Finn and Rachel’s now equally limp, bleeding bodies.  

Static from a walkie talkie sizzled to life as the apparent ‘guy in charge’ spoke solemnly into it. 

“Command, this is Alpha Chief. Shooter is down. Repeat, shooter is down. Two casualties on scene. Send EMS with three stretchers.” 

. . . . .

TBC…

😭😭😭😭😭

Chapter Text

pick up the pieces and go home

. . . . .

“Miss Sylvester?”

“That’s COACH to you, bub. What’s it to ya? Can’t you see I’m busy bleeding half to death here?! Speaking of which, are we EVER gonna get this meat wagon in motion?”

“Yes ma’am, just as soon as we clear a path out – but first can you confirm this item is your property?”

Sue inspected the flare gun being held up before her in an evidence bag and looked at the stern-faced officer standing impatiently before her. “Never saw it before in my life.”

“But your name is SUE Sylvester, correct?”

“Indeed, the one and only. Check your ESPN stats, Buster. You’ll find I’m the youngest, winningest cheer coach in the Western Hemisphere.”

“Great. So then this must be your flare gun, correct?”

“As I’ve already stated, no. I’ve never laid eyes on the thing until now, and you can’t prove otherwise. Are we done yet, Telly Savalas?”

“But your name is on it.”

“But you have no proof.”

“It clearly says here in bold embossed text from one of those label-maker gizmos PROPERTY OF SUE SYLVESTER, CHEER COACH, McKINLEY HIGH SCHOOL.”

“Purely circumstantial.”

“Oookay... Well, this little cheerleader here was kind enough to tell us she retrieved this item from the trunk of your car.”

Sue leaned over and murmured to the pint-sized Cheerio, “Becky, were you rooting around in my LeCar again?”

Becky nodded. “I used the spare key you gave me in case of emergency. And this WAS an emergency Coach.”

The officer raised his eyebrows and sighed, scribbling down a few more notes. “Okay, so we’re going to just go ahead and assume this is YOUR property. We’ll allow you to pick it up at the station at a later date once we finish processing it as evidence from the crime scene. Given that it was never fired, we see no reason to retain it indefinitely. We’ll be in touch to let you know when you can collect it.”

“Oh. Well that’s fabulous. And you sir, are a fabulous example of yet another civil servant wasting my tax paying dollars!  Thank you, Columbo. Maybe you and your cohorts could spend a little more time chasing down the criminal elements in this town and a little less time chasing down all those donuts with some overpriced designer coffee. Maybe THEN I wouldn’t be laying here with a BULLET lodged in my otherwise flawless Ajaxian person. Now, can we get this show on the road before I need to perform roadside surgery on myself in this slaughterhouse on wheels? I’d rather not suffer an amputation and have to walk around hobbled like a gimp for the rest of my life. Thanks!”

As the officer shook his head and the paramedic closed the rig doors, Sue whispered to Becky, “I’m so glad you’re okay, sweetie. I was scared to death! But honey, I have to ask, if you had my flare gun, how come you didn’t shoot it?”

“I didn’t know it wasn’t loaded. I didn’t see any bullets for it. Sorry Coach.”

“Oh Becky, Becky, Becky. As my good friend Charleton Heston – or Charlie as I called him – used to tell me on the shooting range before he died, always check your ammo first! Rule one in weaponry and self-defense. Rule two is make sure the safety is off. And remember kiddo, flare guns take flare cartridges; the 32-caliber snub nose I have hidden in the secret panel of the glove compartment, however, takes bullets.”

“Ooooh yeah! I forgot about the Saturday Night Special.”  

“Next time you need to remember where the good gun is stashed, okay?” 

“Okay Coach, I’ll try.”

“Good girl. I guess we’ll have to revisit the shooting range someday soon when my leg is all healed to give you a refresher course. Now give me a hug sweetheart. I’m so proud of you!"

“Thanks Coach. And I’m proud of you too. You fixed your own leg, and you didn’t let the bad guy win. You rock!”

“That’s true, but not as much as you do, honey. You were a rock superstar. You were so brave today!”

Becky sighed as she let go of Sue as her eyes began to tear up again.

“But I couldn’t save Finn Hudson. Did he die, Coach? He had a big red stain on his shirt after Karofsky shot him, and he didn’t move or talk.”

“Oh Becky, honey I... I’m not sure. But you did help save people today. A lot of them. And I promise, we’ll find out about Finn Hudson as soon as we get to the hospital, okay?”

“Okay.”

. . . . .

Out in the courtyard, all the Glee kids were reuniting with their anxious, panic-stricken families. Will and Emma found each other too and were locked in a tight embrace and a never-ending kiss, unconcerned about keeping up professional appearances at the moment (life threatening situations tend to do that).

“Kurt!”

“Dad! Mom! Oh thank heavens I’m so happy to– OOOF!”

Burt and Carole swarmed Kurt in a bone crushing hug. Minutes passed with the three engulfed in a family embrace before anyone could speak. 

“Kurt, buddy, you okay? I don’t know what I woulda done if– Oh son, my boy! I love you kiddo, we both love you so much–”

“Dad, Dad I’m okay, it’s okay. I’m not hurt, I promise, at least not yet. But you’re kind of squashing me and I can’t breathe,” he laughed through his tears.

“Sorry buddy,” Burt choked out as he still clung to his only born son for dear life. “After losing your mom I just... I don’t know if I can let go.” Kurt nodded, seeming to understand and sobbed into the man’s shoulder hugging him back like he might disappear.

Carole still had an arm around Kurt as she inspected him for injuries and pressed mom kisses all over the side of his head and cheek. “Let me get a look at you. You’re sure you’re not hurt honey?” 

“No Mom, I promise I’m okay.”

The woman wept and smoothed his hair affectionately. The puffy red eyes that gave away the number of tears she’d shed were starting to scan the rest of the space around them; panic still painted on her face. “Thank God you’re here safe and sound... I've never been so terrified in my life than when I got Finn’s text. I left a full buggy of groceries at the checkout line and drove as fast as I could... Where is he? Where’s Finny?”

Kurt swallowed hard, attempting to break free of his father’s continued vice grip. “Yeah son, where’s your brother?” Burt asked, easing up on his suffocating bear hug and leaning back to see his son’s face. “Shouldn’t he be out here with us by now?”

“Um. Mom, Dad, I need to... oh god I just don’t know how to say...” unspilled tears filled Kurt’s eyes and he struggled to look at Carole.

Burt cradled his son’s pale face in his large rough hands and looked him in the eye. “Son? What happened? Where is your brother?”

When Kurt’s eyes finally met Carole’s, his mouth agape and unable to find the words, she began violently shaking her head. “No. No Kurt, NO! He’s not. Don’t say it, he can’t be...Oh, oh god, I can’t breathe, I can’t–” she gasped, holding one hand to her mouth and the other clutching her chest, bracing for impact.

“O-oh, NO! N-no, Mom, I’m sorry h-he’s not, I mean... that is, I-I don’t think so, but...”

“Kurt, pal, what do you mean you don’t think so? What exactly is going on,” Burt demanded, practically holding up his crumbling wife whose legs were buckling now with one arm while gripping Kurt’s shoulder with the other. “Where is Finn?”

AT that point, Puck, who was standing nearby in his own mother’s embrace, broke free to join them, having overheard the Hudmel clan’s cries and came over to explain. “Mama C,” he peeled her away from Burt and pulled her into his arms to hug her tightly. 

“Oh Noah, thank God! Noah baby, I’m so happy you’re okay, b-but... wha-what’s going on, where is he?” Carole cried, desperation and panic steeped in her voice.

Puck held her close and spoke only to her. “Ma, Rachel wasn’t in the choir room when this shit went down. Our boy, you know how he is, especially about her... he just had to be the hero. He fought us like a rattlesnake and ran out after her, Ma, and neither one of them came back to the choir room by the time the fuzz pulled us outta there. We thought he’d be out here waiting for us with his big goofy mug grinning at us, but we haven’t seen him yet... I tried to stop him Ma, I swear I did, but–” his words faded, and he choked back his own tears watching her face crumble in understanding.

Carole hugged Puck tightly, sobbing into his shoulder much the same way as the teen in her arms. “Oh my god, my baby... and Rachel too...? You mean BOTH of them a-are missing?”

Puck nodded against the crook of her neck, trying to quash his tears and gain some composure. “I’m sorry Ma, I couldn’t stop him.” He held up his now bandaged hand as evidence. “He even bit me to get outta there to get to her. I tried to talk sense into him, so did Mr Schue... but it’s all my fault. I shoulda tried harder I guess–”

“Noah Elijah Puckerman, now you stop it,” Carole held his cheeks in her hands as tears streamed down her face. “I believe you, honey. I’m so happy you’re okay... and I’m sure you tried your best. But I think we both know wild horses wouldn’t have stopped him, not when it comes to that girl. Dear God... She has to be okay... they both do,” Carole started to break down again and Burt and Kurt piled into a huge family hug around her and Puck.

Puck sighed, wiping the remaining wetness from his eyes, sniffing back any further tears. “Yeah. Finn knows her well enough to know where she’d be hiding. We’re thinking they ended up in the auditorium. There’s a ton of hiding places in there, so maybe they’re still stashed away under the stage or something in there.”

“Let’s hope so,” Carole said softly, fear evident in her broken voice. “I hope they found each other and they’re both safe.”

Burt heard the anxious, authoritative voice of Hiram Berry yelling at a state trooper a few feet away, demanding information. Burt called him over, seeing a tearful Leroy shadowing him. 

“Hiram, Lee,” he waved them over, then shook each of their hands and wrapped each man in a half hug with a pat on the back. “Have you heard anything about Rachel yet? She okay?”

Hiram sighed in relief to see Burt’s familiar face, but his expression morphed back into a mask of concern just as immediately. “No, no we haven’t – in fact we’re getting stonewalled and cannot get ANYTHING out of these buffoons. Are your boys all safe and accounted for?”

Burt took a deep breath and tilted his head in Kurt and Carole’s direction. “Kurt is... uh. Listen guys, you might wanna brace yourselves. Puckerman just told us some troubling information. Rachel was missing at the time they went on lockdown. She wasn’t in the music room with the rest of the club, and I guess Finn broke loose and went out looking for her. From the sounds of it, they’re both still in there somewhere.”

By this time Quinn had approached the three men with Rachel’s backpack in hand. “It’s true. Mr and Mr Berry, h-here’s Rachel’s bag. She and I had a... well. She was upset and left the choir room just before the first gunshots sounded and... I’m so sorry. I never meant for–”

Burt pulled the pretty blonde into a half hug, his arm wrapped around her shoulders tucking her against his side. “Hey hey, this isn’t your fault sweetheart. This isn’t anyone’s fault. Well, no one’s except the maniac son of a bitch who came into the school and–” he cut himself off, noting the devastation on the faces of the Berry men and the quivering girl shaking in his arms.

Leroy shrieked “WHAT?! Why would she... Hiram oh my god, what if–” Turning to Burt and Quinn he practically screamed “Where are they? Are they safe? Does anyone know anything–” 

Quinn shook her head sorrowfully, “Finn tried to call her as soon as we went on lockdown. That’s how we realized she’d left her things in the room, including her phone. Then he just... h-he decided she couldn’t be out there alone and went after her.” Her sad green eyes flickered to the faces of the three men encircling her. “I’m just so so sorry. I hope they’re both alright,” Quinn choked out, bringing both hands to her mouth as her shoulders shook with fresh tears. Puck, who’d witnessed the girl’s admission tugged her away from Burt and held her in his strong embrace, whispering soft calming words in her ear.

Hiram pulled his husband into his side and Burt shook his head. “Sorry fellas, I guess that’s as much info as we seem to have right now. Carole’s hanging on by a thread herself waiting for more news too. She’s with Puckerman’s family and Kurt over there. Listen, I’m gonna go try to pull some strings and get some more info. I know Sheriff Akins pretty well since I got the tire contract for the department last year and we’ve kinda become friends. Why don’t you guys stick close to Carrie, and I’ll be right back.”

Hiram nodded solemnly and shook Burt’s hand once more. “Thanks Burt, we’ll be waiting.”

. . . . .

Inside the auditorium, police surveyed the scene while paramedics worked to evaluate the three fallen teens on the stage. The Allen County Police Commissioner, the county Coroner, and the Lima Sheriff along with several state troopers and SWAT members were still present. So was Detective Wallace, the senior FBI investigator who was in charge of the crime scene now. 

Law enforcement officials and CSI detectives milled cautiously around the paramedics as they worked on the three teens. Seeking status updates, Wallace squatted next to a blonde female paramedic who’d just removed the blood pressure cuff from a lifeless arm and confirmed a lack of vital signs. “This one’s gone. Tag him and bag him. Someone should notify next of kin.”

Nodding to the female EMT worker, he looked up and called out, motioning to the large body being loaded on the stretcher. “Anyone got a line to the parents yet?”

“Yes,” Sheriff Akins confirmed. “The school principal is down, unfortunately – confirmed code black. The acting principal is injured and was headed out on a stretcher, but she gave us full access to all student files in the school directory on her way to the rig. We have a couple guys in there now, along with a few of your CSI folks since the principal’s office is a major crime scene as well. But the acting principal also advised us of her suspicion on the shooter’s name.”

“Yeah, in between insulting us for not doing our jobs fast enough and claiming she was gonna have us all fired, and then sued,” a junior officer scoffed.

“Oh you mean the angry blonde lady in the red tracksuit? Yeah, I really hope someone carted her off to the hospital by now. She was in pretty rough shape anyway with that leg injury, but she’s also been kind of a pain in the ass, barking orders at my guys out there. She’s a feisty one,” Wallace commented with a mirthless laugh. 

“You don’t know the half of it! She’s been appearing on our local news for a couple of years now, like some local celebrity giving editorial rants – and some of her opinions are pretty far out there! She’s a real piece of work, that one!” the younger officer remarked.

Sheriff Akins’ stern face seemed to dismiss the opinionated officer. “Right, you’d be pretty irritable if someone came into your place of work and shot you too. How about you go get a status update on the identities and family contacts for the other victims. There are a few other kids down in the hallways out there.” The no-nonsense sheriff turned back to Wallace as the younger officer followed orders. “Anyway, the shooter’s identity has already been confirmed. There’s an eyewitness from this scene in here, a cheerleader, but I already know this kid. Played football here until he got himself expelled. We’ve had a couple different run-ins with him for run of the mill teen punk stuff – vandalism and disorderly conduct. Nothing on this scale though. It’s a damn shame... his dad seems like a level-headed fella. My guys are already in route to their home with a grief counselor to pick up the parents and bring them to the station.” 

Wallace moved on to the next team of EMT’s. “What do we have here?”

“GSW, through and through, but vitals are weak – very. Thready pulse with significant blood loss. This one’s code red, critical. Better get life flight ready to move him to Lima Regional Medical Center,” the bald medic said with authority. Wallace nodded and radio’d in the command to clear a path and create a makeshift helicopter landing pad in the middle of the football field. 

“I think I know this one too, dammit,” Sheriff Akins said shaking his head. 

The EMT looked up and agreed, “Yeah, me too. My nephew goes to school here and I’ve been to most of the Titan’s ball games. I’m pretty sure he’s the quarterback.” 

“Shit. I better go track down Burt Hummel. He’s probably losing his mind right now,” the Sheriff muttered to himself as he walked towards the exit door.

Wallace watched the sheriff walk off the stage and turned his attention to the final medic team. “She gonna make it?”

“This one’s got a GSW too. Can’t find an exit wound though. She’s also got a pretty severe head injury, big scalp lac. Vitals are stronger than the boy’s and she seems stable for rig transport. Do we know if any of the parents are around?” 

“I’m sure they’re all on scene somewhere by now. We have parents crawling around like ants out there. This has been all over the news all morning. Goddammit they’re all just kids... I hate when they’re all kids. This is sickening,” the burly state trooper complained.

The agent nodded once in agreement and blew out a long breath. “Okay. We need confirmed IDs on these two, though. And I WANT THAT BULLET – make sure the hospital knows. We’ll check their records in the system but sounds like we have a positive ID on at least one of these two.” Wallace stood up and rubbed his temples, then called out to everyone in the room, “Anyone know where that little blonde cheerleader went? She can probably ID the girl too. She was also an eyewitness, so she’ll need to be interviewed anyway.”

“She was with the acting principal in a rig, last I saw. Let me get the rig driver on the radio, maybe we can have them relay the info,” the trooper supplied as he started barking orders into his walkie talkie.

. . . . .

Twenty minutes later. Burt returned to his family with an update. “Let’s go folks.”

Carole’s face blanched at the stern look on her husband’s face and she froze to the curb where she was sitting. “I’m not leaving this school without my son, Burt!”

He kneeled down in front of her, rubbing his hands up and down her upper arms gently to ease the news. “Carrie, babe, he’s on the way to the hospital. Which is where we’re going, right now.”

“Hospital? WHY?! What happened to my baby?!” she cried. “Burt, Burt what’s–”

He pulled her up into his arms and kissed her forehead. “Honey, I’m sorry, I don’t have any other info. They wouldn’t tell me anything else except he was alive and on his way to Lima Medical. So let’s go and find out, okay?” he turned to face Hiram and Leroy. “You fellas can ride with us if you’d like. Rachel’s on her way to the same hospital in a separate transport.”

“Rachel too? Are you sure?” Hiram asked tearfully, “Do they know–”

“Guys, look, I swear if I had more news I’d share it. The sheriff only told me that Finn was injured and being transported. He knew it was Finn because he saw him at the shop with me, they’ve met. I asked if they had any info on Rachel. He asked me to describe her and when I did, he said the girl they were moving fit the description, right down to her little plaid skirt and star necklace. The fact that Finn was with her tells me it has to be her. So it seems like the kids found each other and they are ALIVE, but I don’t know a thing about any injuries or why they’re headed to the hospital. So how about let’s all get moving and find out what’s going on with our kids, okay?”

“I’m coming too,” Puck chimed in, overhearing the update.

“Me too, if you don’t mind,” Quinn quietly asked, coming up behind Puck. 

Burt looked at Carole for confirmation and found her nodding in agreement. “Okay just you two and Kurt though. But ah, we’re gonna have a full boat with the Berrys in our car.”

“Dad, I drove so have my SUV here. I can drive Puck and Quinn,” Kurt suggested.

“Are you sure you’re good to drive buddy? You still look pretty shaken up. Maybe you should let Puckerman take the wheel. I’d feel better in fact, because you still seem pretty damn jumpy, and I know you’re worried about your brother.”

Puck perked up with a ready smile and an outstretched hand reaching toward Kurt awaiting his car keys, while Kurt blanched at the thought. “Puckerman, so help me Liza, if you put even a scratch on my baby, I’ll skin you alive – after I finish shaving your head. That mohawk will become a NO-hawk. I mean eyebrows and all.”

“Whatever, Petunia. You heard your old man, just hand ‘em over.” Puck turned to Quinn. “Are you sure this is a good idea for you to go? I can call you at home later with updates, y’know.”

“No. I want to be there. For both of them. Anyway, technically, I am still Finn’s girlfriend; I should be there. I’ll just call my mother and fill her in.”

As she walked away following Kurt to his car, Puck trailed behind them swinging the key ring on his finger and muttering under his breath, “right. Technically. At least until he sees you again.”

. . . . .

“Is the family of Rachel Berry here?” The young Korean doctor called out into the buzzing emergency department waiting room.

“Yes, that’s us!” Leroy and Hiram jumped up eagerly, with Carole following them. “I’d like to–” she started to say before Hiram cut her off by grabbing her hand firmly and pulling her along with them.

The trio was pulled into a private conference room where Dr Yang provided an update on Rachel’s status. “I’m sure you’re aware your daughter was brought to us as a victim of the high school shooting incident today. We’ve gotten bits and pieces of information about the scene and the injuries she sustained. First, I want to confirm to you, she’s alive and still being evaluated. She’s just been taken to imaging and then will be prepped for surgery. So far, we know she’s suffered a significant head injury, and a gunshot wound.” 

“Oh my god! Oh my Little Star, NOOO!” Leroy cried as Hiram looked ready to faint. 

Carole gripped both men’s hands with tears in her eyes. “Okay, Hir, Lee, I know this is a shock but let’s listen to the doctor...” Carole faced the no-nonsense looking woman in navy scrubs sitting across the table from them and asked “she’s going to be okay, right? She must be somewhat stable if you took her to imaging.”

“Yes, we’re very confident she’ll make a full recovery. And yes, she’s stable enough for now. We’re a little concerned about the apparent blunt force trauma injury to her head. There’s a large, deep laceration below the crown of her head on the right side of her skull which will require a number of stitches. We want to be sure there’s no skull fracture of internal bleeding before we get her into surgery. 

“The gunshot wound is in her left chest, just below the collarbone. She had a few other minor cuts and abrasions to her face, wrists and ankles. I know this all sounds terrifying, but we don’t believe the gunshot has done any significant internal damage. The head injury is a little harder to comment on though, since we’re not sure what caused it. For right now we’re treating the head injury as more significant since the bleeding from the gunshot is under control. The bullet may still be lodged in her chest but again, we didn’t find any major vessels involved, nor any deeper structure damage like lungs or heart. It appears to be buried in the wall of her chest muscle, which is a rather minor surgery to repair. As soon as we have information on her CT images, we’ll get an update to you.”

Leroy fired off a barrage of questions. “When can we see her? Can we see her before she goes to surgery? She needs to know we’re here and that she’s not alone. Is she awake? She’s probably terrified right now...”

Dr Yang took his hand reassuringly. “I understand your worry; I’m a mother myself. She’s been in and out of consciousness, and when she was awake, she was in a great deal of pain and very combative, so we’ve given her morphine and a mild sedative which will probably keep her asleep. It was also necessary so we could get a clear image on the CT scan. She will be sleeping, but we can bring you back to see her just as soon as she’s out of imaging.

“Thank you doctor,” Hiram said, tears leaking down his face to his chin. The doctor stood up to leave and Hiram glanced at Carole’s worried expression then quickly asked, “Can you tell us... Do you have any information on Finn Hudson?”

“I’m sorry, I’m really not able to discuss patient info with–”

“I’m his mother!” Carole supplied eagerly. “Please, can you tell me anything? Is he alright?”

“Oh, forgive me, Mrs Hudson, I was just about to find you. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize–”

“It’s Hudson-Hummel now but call me Carole. Please doctor, how is my Finn? What happened?”

The doctor smiled with a certain reassuring face that Carole has used herself numerous times when talking to panicked family members about a loved one with serious injuries. 

“Okay, Carole. I can confirm your son is here and is already headed into surgery. He arrived by life flight in critical condition. I’m the head of the emergency department so I’m overseeing both cases, but your son’s primary treating physician is actually Dr Lewis. He’s our top cardiothoracic surgeon and I can assure you, your son’s in the best possible hands–”

“CARDIOTHORACIC surgeon?! What happened to my Finn?! Was he shot.. In the chest?! In.. in the heart?” 

“I’m sorry, yes ma’am, he was shot in the chest. The bullet nicked his aorta, and he’s suffered very significant blood loss as a result of that injury. We had to transfuse him with two units of whole plasma upon arrival. Some shrapnel from the bullet may have also nicked the sack surrounding his heart and may still be in his chest.”

Carole appeared a ghostly shade of grey, her face drained of any blood. “You’re saying there’s a... a h-hole in his pericardium and a laceration in his aorta– but he’s alive? What’s his EKG reading? How are his cardiac scans? Is there any tamponade? Any edema or pleural effusion?”

The doctor pulled a curious face and Hiram offered an explanation. “She’s an RN at Lima County General.”

“Oh I see, that explains it... well, Mrs Hud– ah, Carole. Due to the extreme blood loss, the aortal injury took precedence, so it was decided to forego radiology in favor of an ECG in the surgical suite. They’ll use fluoroscopy if needed to check for shrapnel and attempt to make both repairs at once. Otherwise the plan is to repair the aorta first, get him stable then get the additional imaging to repair the membrane. But I promise you, Dr Lewis is the best of the best. He was in the triage bay and began working on your son immediately. Finn is in very good hands Carole, and we’re very optimistic, so you should be too.”

Carole nodded. Medically, academically she understood the severity of his injuries, but the mama bear in her was in a free fall and headed for a meltdown. 

“My baby,” Carole whispered as tears streamed down her cheeks in continuous streams. “Who would do this to my son?” She looked as if she might faint and Hiram wrapped both arms around her for support while Leroy tightened his grip on her hand. 

Dr Yang got a notification on her iPad medical chart and reviewed it. After a few moments she explained the updated information she’d just received. 

“Folks, listen we only have theories and partial details provided by on-scene personnel so far, but I just got an update from the operating room technician regarding Finn’s scans which supports Dr Lewis’ theory. We THINK the bullet passed through your son’s chest and lodged itself in your daughter’s. The bullet’s trajectory seems to have been at an odd angle, possibly because Finn was in motion at the time he was struck.”

“What does that mean? How did it– oh my god.” Carole sighed as a sudden understanding seemed to grip her. Hiram looked at her questioningly and she looked at the doctor for confirmation. “He... he jumped in front of her, didn’t he? Rachel was going to be shot, and Finn jumped in front of her to protect her.”

Lee and Hiram both gasped. The doctor took a deep breath and nodded once. “The paramedics reported that Finn was laying across Rachel when they first arrived on scene, so yes, that is what it looks like. Both of your children were unconscious and unable to confirm anything, but we’ve unfortunately seen enough of these kinds of injuries before to have a pretty good understanding of what we’re looking at. Finn was in critical condition and has remained unconscious from his arrival until he was taken into surgery. And Rachel, well she was too incoherent for the brief moments she was awake. She’d gone into combative states of hysteria, so medicating her was vital to her care. 

“We’re told there is also an eyewitness to the shooting incident involving your children, but we haven’t been able to speak to the witness directly yet. Special Agent Wallace with the FBI is heading this investigation. Because school mass casualty situations fall under FBI jurisdiction, we are required to keep him in the loop of everything medically relevant for both of your children. We’ll be sure to advise him that you are all here and I’m sure he will want to speak with the three of you. 

“For now, just know that your daughter’s injuries are potentially severe but survivable, and your son’s injuries are significant but not necessarily life threatening.”

“Thank you doctor. When will know more?” Hiram asked.

“Dr Hamlin will be in touch for an update on Rachel’s status. We expect her to be moved to a regular room and kept at least overnight, if not a few days, mainly for observation.” she faced Carole and added “And Dr Lewis will send someone to update you on Finn’s surgery shortly, but we have every reason to believe he will pull through this, so please hang in there. You’re probably aware Finn will likely spend some time in the cardiac ICU afterward, but Dr Lewis will fill you in later. Meanwhile, there’s a private family waiting room on the third floor surgical wing with vending machines. You’re welcome to wait there and someone from their surgical teams will find you.”

. . . . .

Four hours later, Quinn sat outside the CICU in a waiting room alone with Puck. Carole was in Finn’s room willing him to wake up from his surgery, while Burt and Kurt went to check on the Berry dads in Rachel’s patient room and try to force them down to the cafeteria for food since Rachel also hadn’t awakened yet.

“How’re you holding up, Q?”

Quinn sighed, putting her phone down and focusing her attention on the mohawked boy. Puck was slouched in his chair next to her, sprawled out with his hands laced together behind his head and his legs stretching out into the walkway. 

“I’m fine. I’m worried, of course, but... fine. How ‘bout you?”

“Same,” he sniffed. “My ma’s been texting every half hour. I guess Judy’s been blowing up your phone too, huh?” Quinn nodded and focused her eyes back on the wall-mounted TV quietly playing some re-run of The Golden Girls. 

A long silence fell upon them until Puck suddenly asked “So uh. You’re not gonna stir up any drama when they wake up, right?”

“What do you mean? Why would I–”

“C’mon. We both know how this story goes. Why did you even screw around with him again the first place? And before you jump to judgment, I’m not being territorial over you, and this isn’t about us or what went down last year or even about Beth. I’m talking about you, cheating on Sam, kissing Finn. Why?”

She sighed, her eyes glazed with moisture as she replied. “Because I... I don’t know. After what happened last year, I’d always regretted hurting him. Finn and I, we were good together once, before things went... well, really bad. And he made that speech at the game that night to convince us to leave the Cheerios for Glee, and it just made me feel...” she paused and shook her head. “I don’t even know why I’m even telling you any of this. It was an impulse, okay? He was single again, and I just–”

“Oh HORSESHIT! Single my ass! He and Rachel had a blow out, they were apart for a minute, but so fucking what?”

“It was more than a minute, Puck. He was single, they were broken up!

“But YOU weren’t. And Hudson? Shit, I’ve known the dude practically my whole life. He’s so far off the deep end in love with Berry, in a way he’s NEVER been with anyone – not even you. Maybe they hit a bump in the road and he lost his damn mind for a little bit but there’s no way he was over her yet. Not then and DEFINITELY still not now. And I know you know it, too. You had to be the first one to see it too, so don’t deny it.” 

She sat quietly for a long beat, wringing the tissue in her hands. “I think I will never understand that. What is it about Rachel Berry? She’s just not the kind of girl I ever thought he’d go for.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah well. She may not be the blonde stacked cheerleader type, but she’s got her own thing going on. And she’s got a smokin’ hot little bod. SNEAKY hot.” Quinn clicked her tongue in disapproval, and he added “What? She does. I should know, I got a chance to make out with her a couple times... And I knew it back then when I dated her last year how she felt about him. Shit, we even talked about it WHILE we were dating – or well, she talked I tuned out most of it. But I sure as hell knew he was fighting whatever he was feeling for her back then – because of YOU. I knew it long before all the shit hit the fan about us and Beth.” 

“Oh please... First of all, he should have been fighting the urge to cheat since he was with me. But he didn’t like her that soon, not like that. She was throwing herself at him, but he wasn’t int–”

“Really? Sorry if the truth hurts babe, but he was already sunk. Not long after I busted him for joining Glee, I made a crack about Berry that he totally didn’t like and basically admitted he had a thing for her. Told me to keep my mouth shut about it though. I asked him what the hell he was holding out for, and he gave me that trademark Hudson clueless face and stuttered out a non-answer. 

“Then I got to hear alllll about her at Mike’s birthday blowout last summer, right after they finally made it official. Berry had a family thing out of town that night and he got wasted and chatty, boo-hooing like a whiny chick over missing her already. He said he started falling for her almost from day one – once he decided she wasn’t actually a crazy stalker. It was her crazy big Broadway voice, Quinn. Like those mermaids that put a spell on sailors or some shit. He said he fell for her the first time they sang that damn Journey song together, fell even more when she showed up at that Celibacy club meeting. Remember that?”

“Of course I do, but she was just being her crazy self and–”

“He KISSED her for the first time right after that. After that insane Salt N Pepa song they did together at the pep rally.”

“What? No, we were still dating and that was before I even told him about the baby.”

“Quinn, I know you saw it coming. I don’t just mean Rachel either; I mean the end of you and Finn. You knew it wasn’t working, and I know you knew because it’s how you and me ended up in the sack in the first place. He didn’t pay enough attention to you, didn’t make you happy. You had nothing in common then and I KNOW that hasn’t changed now. I remember all the stuff we talked about that night.”

Quinn pursed her lips defiantly, defensively even. “So what if he got distant or if I got confused... Couples go through rough patches. We all make mistakes.”

“Right. Just like Finn and Rachel before you swooped in and made things worse between them.” 

“He pursued me this time. But don’t act like you’re some saint. Wasn’t it YOU on the other side of her cheating lips?” 

“Yeah, and I’ve been kicking myself ever since.”

“Then why’d you do it in the first place, huh?”

He shrugged casually. “Sex shark.” When she scoffed and threw her hands up, he elaborated. “Hey, I was fucked up too and I lost my mojo. I’d just gotten out of juvie, you were blowing me off for Trouty-mouth Captain America, I’d been locked in a damn PORTA JOHN all damn day and was rescued by a big boned female wrestler who I couldn’t even convince to let me get with her. I was at an all time low, alright? And Baby Babs with her long sad face and sweet lips was like low hanging fruit and just the pick me up I needed. But I came to my senses and backed off – unlike YOU. I even took another one of Huddy’s right hooks for it like a champ because I deserved it.” 

“I already said it wasn’t all me Puck. It was Finn who pushed to get me back, convinced me to forget Sam.” She sniffled as a single tear streamed down her cheek. 

“Well if you’da never KISSED HIM in the first place maybe that idea woulda never crossed his mind, you ever think of that? BOTH his girls cheated on him – with ME. You kissing him musta been some kinda trigger that made him snap and fall down the rabbit hole for a minute. I mean we both know Hudson’s never been the most sensible dude.”

“Hey, I was in love with him last year, you know? You might not believe it but I was. And... and he said he loved me too back then. And when I kissed him after the game, he said he saw fireworks. He pursued ME this time Puck, told me we had unfinished business from last year... and I think he was right. We WERE in love long before Rachel Berry came along and–”

“Okay Q, whatever has helped you sleep at night – but now it’s time to get off planet Delulu and come back to the real world with the rest of us, okay? You weren’t drunk the night we banged. You had a half a wine cooler WHILE you were already crying on my shoulder for an hour talking about losing him to a troll – which was a pretty fucking bitchy thing to say, by the way. But you also spent a fair amount of time complaining what a class A dipwad of a boyfriend Finn was to you and that if it wasn’t for the damage to your status and reps you’d just drop him on his dumb ass anyway. If he loved you or you loved him at all, the honeymoon was already LONG over by the time you dropped your panties and screamed my name.”

“That’s not true – and I did no such thing Noah Puckerman, you just–” 

“Oh can it, toots. You were BEGGING for seconds, okay? I was stone cold sober that night, so I remember all of it crystal clear. You and me, we’ve had a front row seat to what’s been cooking between those two for over a year and half. Just because they had a big falling out and he went off the rails to crazy town courtesy of the Loco Latina Express for a minute didn’t mean they weren’t gonna work it out. Hell, they’d probably already be back together if you and me woulda kept our damn lips to ourselves.”

She refused to look at him and sat silently ripping her tissue to pieces in her lap, a few tears still slipping out, so Puck eased up.

“Listen. All I’m sayin’ is you had to know whatever you two started up again wasn’t going anywhere. And it pretty much seems like after all of this shit today, it’s done run its course. He will back to his regularly scheduled Berry-love-in sessions and singing sappy fucking Journey ballads with her as soon as they both wake up. I mean, the guy took a literal fucking BULLET for her. I’m not really sure how much more proof or declaration of true love you need to figure out where his head and heart truly is – and it sure as HELL isn’t headed to winning prom royalty with you.” 

Quinn burst into tears. “Yes Puck, I know it’s over, okay? I knew it the minute he stormed out of the choir room today. Actually I knew probably even before that. Are you happy now? I’m admitting it. But I can’t help it if I still care about him. And despite all appearances, I kind of care about Rachel too. So forgive me for wanting to be here for my friends... and no I will not be making a scene later. I just want them both to be okay. I feel terrible enough as it is that Rachel was even out there to begin with. If we hadn’t fought, if I wasn’t such a bitch about her and Finn, if–”

Puck put an arm around Quinn and cut off her rant. “If if if— It’s not your fault Rachel was out there and it’s definitely not your fault he went chasing after her. But they’re both gonna pull through, babe. They’ll be fine. They have to be.”

Quinn exhaled harshly, her head resting against his shoulder. “Yes. They will be... they’re Finchel. Plus, we need them for Nationals, so Rachel will make sure they’re both just fine,” she laughed a little sardonically before the tears returned.

Puck hugged her a little closer, “Oh, girl,” he sighed. “You’ll be fine, too.” He tilted his head closer to her ear and spoke softly, “And maybe one day you’ll quit pretending you don’t really love me.” She clucked her tongue, shoved him in the chest and got up to use the restroom, refusing to acknowledge him as he called out “What, you know you do!”

. . . . .

Burt and Hiram were carrying coffees, bagels and donuts back to Rachel’s room when they passed what Burt saw as a familiar but extremely disconsolate face sitting in the hospital chapel.

“Pretty sure that’s Paul Karofsky in there... Hey Hiram, I’ll ah, I’ll catch up to you in a few minutes,” he said to the taller man, as he gestured toward the chapel. Hiram nodded without asking any questions.

“Paul?... Hey. I’m a little surprised to see you here... Or maybe not, considering the current events.” The man barely acknowledged Burt’s presence; clearly something serious was troubling him, but on such a tragic day, this wasn’t much surprise. 

Pulling off his ballcap and folding it into his jeans back pocket, Burt slid onto the pew next to the man and tried again. “Is everything okay? Or well, I mean I can see that it isn’t...” Even in the face of the worst tragedy their town’s ever seen, the obviously devastated man seated in the last row of pews looked as if he’d seen his own death. “...Can I... do you need anything?”

A long beat passed before Paul finally spoke. His voice was soft, so broken and so lost it made Burt’s chest ache with sorrow for whatever this man was suffering... and a dark foreboding rattled in his bones wondering just what could cause a man to look this way. He’d seen that look once before, in his own reflection the same day he’d lost his Elizabeth. 

“No. I don’t... know. I think... No.” The salt-and-pepper-haired man looked up at Burt, unasked questions swimming in his vacant eyes. A look exchanged between the two men told them they were both here under the most unbearably painful circumstances. “You’re here. Kurt...?” Paul questioned, sounding terrified of the answer.

Burt sighed, shaking his head. “My other son. My wife’s with him now... Finn. I think you met him once? We’re uh, waiting for news on Rachel Berry too – Finn’s, well I guess his girl is still accurate, even though they’re broken up right now. She’s Kurt’s best friend too. He’s in with her and her dads right now.” 

Paul’s brow furrowed. “The Berrys? Nice people. Good people...” he sighed heavily and turned his head downward, a spasm of grief gasping out. “They don’t deserve this... none of them did... Oh my god,” he muttered under his breath.

“What about you? You’re not here because of the McKinley thing, right? I mean, your boy changed schools, so he should be–” 

His words were interrupted when Paul suddenly pulled a crinkled sheet of folded notebook paper from his breast pocket and held it out to him. As Burt unfolded the note, he had a sinking feeling about what he’d learn from the words scrawled messily across the tattered page before he finished reading the very first sentence. 

He’d never have said it out loud but earlier in the day, for just a split second, he’d briefly entertained the idea that a kid like David Karofsky could be capable of committing a crime like the one today. But he’d already pushed that notion aside once they left the school, deciding it didn’t matter who was responsible. A monster had nearly destroyed his family, had disrupted the sanctity of their quiet, comfortable lives. He took the coward’s way out and he’d been sent to hell now where he belonged, so none of it mattered. He didn’t care who the hell it was that committed such atrocities now that they were dealt with and the why’s and how’s weren’t a priority right now; for now it was all he could do to be the rock his family needed him to be. 

The words he read on the page made him rethink that opinion.

Dad,

By now you probably wish I was never born thanks to the shame I’ve brought you. I’m sorry. I tried to make things right these last few months before it came to this. I can’t be who everyone expects me to anymore and I can’t stand what I’ve become. 

Now everyone knows the truth and the world hates me. I hate Finn Hudson, and Kurt Hummel, and every asshole at McKinley, and Figgins and every person I ever picked on or put down and every person who ever judged me. I hate all the people who thought they were better than me, and the ones who knew they were. I hate HATING. Mostly I hate that they hate me. I hate myself. Everyone knows now and like grandpa always says, you can’t unburn that bridge. They’ll never look at me the same. I’m a joke, a target, and a failure. I failed you all – as a son, and as a man. 

Everyone wants something different from me, but I don’t know how to be all those things. This is who I am. A freak. Defective. Disgusting. What did mom call me? Oh right, an abomination. So I was going to just go out like a little mouse, a beat dog with my tail between my legs. Then I decided FUCK THAT. Everyone expects me to be the BIG MAN? I guess I’ll show them all. I’m gonna leave my mark on this world, the same way it left its mark on me. After today, they will ALL remember my name. 

I love you, dad. Maybe we’ll see each other again someday. Maybe you can forgive me, but I’ll understand if you can’t. Just know.... This isn’t your fault. Or maybe it is.

~ Your son.

. . . . .

Burt re-folded the letter along its already worn creases and felt the weight of the paper in his hands. He sighed contemplating the irrefutable truths revealed on that page.

David Karofsky was a victim.

David Karofsky was a bully.

David Karofsky was the shooter.

And now... David Karofsky is dead. The words weren’t literally written on the page, but he didn’t need to read them to know it was true based on the appearance of the man in his company. 

The two men didn’t exchange words, didn’t even look one another in the eye.

Several minutes passed while Paul stared straight ahead at the altar, then he quietly confessed, “I just came here after the morgue. I... I had to identify him.” A torrent of emotions washed through the man. His expression melted into such despair as cracks began to break through his serene facade. “And now... I-I don’t know what to do. They won’t let me bury him until they close their investigation and... and I have this letter. My ex-wife wouldn’t come with me here. The police are at my house now and... And I have this, but I don’t know what to do with it. I can't bring myself to hand it over, but... What would you do?” 

Conflicting thoughts raced through Burt’s mind watching Paul Karofsky, father of a bully, one who threatened to kill his son and almost succeeded killing his other son. Father of a tormented boy who’d been victimized, marginalized and abused by his own family. The man was consumed with anguish and fell into a shattered mess of tears. 

He should feel indifferent to this man. He should feel vitriol, blame, maybe even hate. This man raised a son capable of dangerous, monstrous behavior. 

But he can’t. He can’t because he knows on some level, the sins of the son are not always the fault of the father – especially not this father, who seemed a far more enlightened, compassionate soul. Cut from similar cloth to his own.

And now, this was a childless, grief-stricken father, with nowhere to put that deep well of pain and regret and guilt and shame. With nowhere to put the love he still feels for the boy he brought into the world and now has to live in one without him. Without even getting to say goodbye.

Burt reached out, gripping his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Paul.” The man collapsed then into a heaving, shuddering frenzy of sobs. Burt leaned over, pulling him into an embrace and repeated himself. “It’s not your fault.”

Time stood still for a long while as Paul exorcised whatever despair and anguish had pent up since this morning’s shocking discoveries. Enough time had passed, in fact, that Hiram returned looking for Burt but finding the men still in an embrace, one completely hollowed out and shattered, the other serving as a grief eater.

By the time Hiram had gotten back to Rachel’s room, the TV news had updated the casualty statistics and released the shooter’s name in the media. Kurt had gasped and fallen into deep despair, feeling some sense of guilt that Hiram and Leroy felt was completely misplaced. The boy clearly needed his father now, but seeing the scene before him in the chapel, Hiram knew Kurt wasn’t alone in needed Burt’s compassion and support. 

Seeing Hiram standing near the door, Burt asked “Everything okay with Rachel? Any changes?”

The taller man made his way over to the two men, standing in the row in front of them. He shook his head softly. “She’s still sleeping. I ah, I thought I should come find you. The reports on TV have been updated and they’ve...” he paused, taking in the deeply etched pain on the gray-haired man’s face as he tried to compose himself. “They’ve released some new information. Six injured and um, five fatalities. They announced Principal Figgins’ name as one of those lost, but they’re withholding the children’s names for now. All except one...” Hiram sighed, a tightness building in his chest knowing the man before him was suffering an immeasurable loss; the kind he prays he’ll never know. Parents are supposed to go first, after all.

“The world truly does know now, don’t they?” Paul choked out. “Oh god... how could I not see... I should’ve gotten rid of that pistol a long time ago. It was my uncle’s and I... but I don’t ever use it. And now... look what I’ve done!”

“Mr Karofsky– may I call you Paul?” Hiram asks, and the man nods once. “Paul, you can’t bear this burden. You didn’t make those choices for David.” 

Burt nodded in agreement. “That’s right. It mighta been your gun, but you didn’t pull the trigger. And you might be his father, but you could never know everything going on in his head. Even if you had, there’s no guarantee things would’ve turned out any different.”

“It’s just... it’s such a sad, dark day for all of us in Lima Ohio. For America, really,” Hiram mused as he handed Paul a linen handkerchief. 

Paul looked through bleary eyes at the gracious men offering him comfort. He didn’t understand how they could have such compassion. “He hurt your stepson, right? And your daughter? He tried to... Jesus I can’t even get my head around what he did! ALL those people he hurt today! I’m so sorry. I shoulda gotten rid of that damn pistol... it was locked up, but... I... I don’t deserve your comfort, especially after the history that we already have, I just don’t deserve it. I should’ve done more.”

Burt cleared his throat and tried to keep his cool. Part of him wanted to scream and let all his anger out on this man, but the more human, rational side of him that knows you can’t control every thought or action your kid has or does somehow prevailed. For at least this moment, he put himself in this broken man’s shoes and tried to consider how he would feel – not that he ever wanted to find out – and what would comfort him now. He was pretty sure there were no words to alleviate this kind of pain.   

Burt hung onto his shoulder and squeezed it. “Paul. You can’t shoulder this responsibility. I know as parents we feel responsible for everything our kids say and do, but we just can’t sometimes. I hope his suffering is over now. I gotta believe that whatever demons he was wrestling, at least now he’s found some peace– even though that means him having to leave you to get it. I truly am sorry for your loss– and for your pain, father to father.” 

Hiram quietly added, “We have a prayer in the Jewish faith, about forgiveness and God's graciousness. S'lach Lanu. I’ll include you and your son in my prayers. My Rachela would pray for you both too... I know she will, when she wakes up. Burt is right though; you cannot carry the weight of this burden upon your shoulders. There are far too many troubled souls on this earth who destroy themselves and others because they don’t feel they conform to the ‘norms’ of society. We need to do better in this world, to be more accepting, to be more understanding... I’m sorry that kind of grace wasn’t given to your son in time. And I wish you peace on your path to healing from this tragedy. Hamakom Yenachem, shelo ted'u od tza'ar otcha.” 

. . . . . 

Hiram and Burt had almost made their way back into Rachel’s room just in time to hear her shrieking echoing down the hallway. Hiram looked at Burt and took off in a sprint. When he entered the room, he found Kurt and LeRoy each holding her hands, trying to hug her and calm her. 

Kurt ran into the hall looking for a nurse as Hiram dove into the spot Kurt had just vacated and clung to his daughter.

“Rachela! Songbird, it’s Papa! You’re safe baby girl, you’re safe, I promise you! Daddy and I are right here, and you’re going to be just fine!” Leroy parroted his husband, stroking the girl’s hair gently.

Rachel finally stopped screaming, her Papa’s words seeming to reach her. “Papa?” she whispered hoarsely. “He’s gone Papa! He’s- he’s GONE! HE KILLED HIM!” Her voice got incrementally louder, and the tears flowed like ribbons down her face. “WHYYY?!” she shrieked with a kind of anguish the two men had never heard her express before.

“Baby girl, you have to calm down. He wouldn’t want you to suffer so much! I - I can’t imagine how it felt seeing a boy die in front of you like that but–”

“A boy?! Papa he wasn’t just A BOY! He was EVERYTHING! He tried to save me and-and– OH GOD WHYYY?!”

Hiram shushed and cooed, holding her as close as he could, mindful of her IV line and injuries. “I don’t know, my Star, I wish I knew... I didn’t realize he was capable of being that brave. Sometimes we don’t know our strength until we’re tested, and today he was tested. I just didn’t realize you cared so much for him Sweet Pea. Actually I sort of thought you were kind of disgusted by him, but it seems he proved his worth after all.”

Rachel stared at her father with incredulous eyes wide as plates and her jaw hanging wide open, contorted in disbelief. “Disgusted? Papa, I could never be disgusted by him! How could you say such a thing? He was my whole WORLD and now he’s gone, and I’ll never get to make it right... I’ll never get the future we both talked about... I’ll never love again... It should’ve been me, not him! Why did he do it?”

Burt was standing at the foot of her bed, looking as confused as the other two men in the room. Leroy took both her cheeks in his soothing hands and spoke softly as he said “Baby girl, Jacob was a good boy. We’ll pray for him at temple, okay? But please don’t say it should have been you! You can’t feel like–”

“What?” her eyes darted around the room from face to face in confusion, finally landing on the man in the baseball cap. “Burt? Why are you h-here? Does... does that mean Carole h-hates me? I’m so sorry Burt, I–”

“Honey, what?” He patted her leg in a comforting gesture. “Oh no no, you sweet girl, she’s just... she’ll be in to see you again, I promise. You were sleeping before when she was here to check on you, but she had to go back to Finn. Of course she doesn’t hate you!”

“Finn? Finn’s here? Is he still...no, wait, don’t tell me. I can’t imagine it! He must be so cold and alone and... And poor Carole, she already had to bury her husband and now... oh my god Burt, I’m just so so sorry! I should have stayed in the choir room...I should have forgiven him right away and never kissed Noah... I should have–”

“Wait. Wait a second. Rachela... who are you screaming over? Who do you believe died sweetheart?”

“Papa please don’t make me say it out loud, I c-can’t... I CAN’T... all I can see is him lying across my lap, b-bleeding, looking at me with so much love until... until his eyes just... Oh Papa! There was s-sooo much BLOOD! But his eyes never left me... And then David turned the gun on himself and–” Rachel became hysterical and incoherent again, sobbing so hard the entire bed shook.

“She’s talking about Finn, guys. She thinks we lost him,” Burt supplied in a hushed tone, and he stepped closer to the bed. “Rachel honey, listen to me. Finn’s alive.”

“What? No, but I saw him, I saw him leap in front of the gun when David was going t-to– he... he died in my arms Burt!”

Leroy gasped and looked at his husband. “Oh my god, I didn’t even think about it, but she witnessed two of them and she thinks–” Hiram put a hand over his husbands on Rachel’s arm, shaking his head to quiet him.

Burt came around to the head end of the bed near Leroy and leaned over to touch her shoulder. “Rachel, Finn’s here, honey. He’s alive, down the hall in the ICU with his mom. He’s hurt pretty bad, and they had to operate but I swear it to you darlin’, he’s alive. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“He’s alive...?” Rachel repeated slowly, as if trying to convince herself. “Are you, are you sure? Because...”

“Positive,” Hiram confirmed. 

Just then Kurt returned with Carole in tow. “The doctor’s coming shortly, there was a code called in another patient room, but he’ll be here as soon– RACHEL!” Kurt squealed, seeing his friend sitting upright with eyes wide open. “You’re awake!” The thin boy leapt over to her bedside. Hiram gave him room and allowed Kurt to gently hug her. Rachel peered over Kurts’s shoulder and saw Carole smiling and crying.

“Carole?” Rachel whispered. “Oh Carole,” she crumbled into a sobbing mess again as Carole wedged her way between all the men in the room, who gave her a wide berth. Carole perched on the edge of the bed taking her hand. 

“I’m here honey, I’m right here, and you’re gonna be just fine. Oh I’m so so happy to see your beautiful brown eyes open! You scared us, sweetheart!” Carole cooed in her ear as she cocooned herself around the small girl.

“Carole, h-he saved my life. He... gave his life for mine, how can you not hate me for–”

Carole looked around the room and found her husband’s face. He moved next to her and leaned down to speak softly. “Babe, she thinks Finn didn’t make it. We were just trying to explain that he’s here, he’s alive, but she doesn’t seem to understand,” Burt murmured in his wife’s ear. “Maybe she’s in some kind of shock? Or well, maybe it’s the head injury, do you think?”

Carole looked at the frail girl who seemed nearly swallowed whole in the hospital bed, squeezing her hands gently. “Rachel, I promise you, Finn is alive and with us still. Yes, he tried to save you – and yes, he was hurt badly in the process, but he isn’t dead, honey. He’s right here in this hospital, right down the hall. Do you believe me?”

“But... no, but I ... I watched him die... I, I thought–”

“It’s okay honey. I know you’re confused...” Carole looked around the room and explained to them “Sometimes when patients first wake from the anesthesia in surgery they are very disoriented. I’ve seen some people hallucinate, I’ve seen some get very hostile and hit the doctors or nurses. That could be what’s causing her confusion now – not to mention the trauma she suffered today...” she returned her focus to Rachel. “You’re okay now, Rachel. You’re safe and Finn’s safe now too. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to wake up and be just fine.”

Rachel blinked several times at Carole, seeming to believe her finally, and a determined look crossed her face. “I need to see him. I need to see him now.” Rachel started to get out of bed as Carole and her fathers attempted to restrain her in place. “No Daddy, Papa, NO! I NEED TO SEE HIM! NOOOOW!” she screamed at the top of her impressive lungs.

Carole stood up and took control of the room using her best authoritative nurse’s tone, which seemed to soothe the frantic girl into a slightly more submissive state. “Rachel, Rachel calm down. I’ll take you, okay? We need a wheelchair because you have a severe concussion, and you have stitches in your head and chest. So you have to calm down, but I will take you to see him, okay?”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart. Kurt’s going to get a wheelchair now,” she looked at her stepson and nodded, watching as he bolted out of the room again.

. . . . . 

“Oh my god... m-my poor... Fffffinn...” Rachel’s bottom lip quivered, her teeth chattered, and her voice cracked over the whispered hoarseness of his name. She took his hand in hers and noted how cool it was to the touch, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Finn? Hey you... It’s me... I’m still here. You did it Finn, you saved me. I was trying to save you, but you saved me,” she said softly as she held his hand to her mouth, her lips murmuring against it. Hot fat tears spilled from her eyes onto the backs of his knuckles. 

Carole stood sentry near the doorway keeping any intruders away while monitoring her son (and Rachel) in the room herself. 

“I thought I’d lost you, Finn.... David, he... h-he p-pointed his gun and pulled that tr-trigger, and at first, I thought I was g-gone. When I heard that loud sound, all I could see was you... like you and me and us and everything we are to each other, it all flashed in an instant in my mind. I waited for the dark to come, but it didn’t... And then it was a blur, and you were there, right there. I c-can’t believe you did that... for me... I know you don’t love me the same way as before, but that’s okay. I know you were scared for me. I was scared for you too, Finn, more scared than I’ve ever been in my entire life. But I also know how brave you were, Finn. 

“You were so, so brave, and chivalrous... and whether you ever forgive me or not, whether we ever have another chance to be together again or not, I want you to know how much I love you, how much I will ALWAYS love you, and how you are everything to me. The thought of never seeing your handsome face again, it almost destroyed me, baby. And your beautiful sparkling eyes, and the way they twinkle when you smile, when your dimples pop out... you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I need to see them again honey, so please, you need to wake up. You need to open your eyes. When you’re ready, though, because you deserve to rest for now. But please don’t sleep too long. Because I need to tell you, Finn, I need you to know that I love you... I’ve always loved you and I will love you forever, even if you don’t love me back.” She leaned her forehead down against his hand lying flat on the mattress against her palm and wept softly into the back of it. 

“But I do.”

His soft voice came in a whisper. Without lifting her head up more than needed to peer up at him, she felt his fingers twitching against hers, and then his hand moved to the hair at the back of her head, stroking softly. 

“Finn?!”

His eyes gradually opened, and his voice was quiet and rough, but she still heard him clearly when he said, “I do love you, Rach... Forever yours, baby.” 

Rachel sat slack jawed, her tear-filled ebony eyes connected with his glazed amber ones, until a smile started to creep up her cheeks and she called out “Carole! He’s awa–”

Suddenly his hand went limp in hers and an alarm on one of the monitors connected to Finn’s chest was sounding loudly. A team of nurses charged the room, ejecting Rachel and Carole to make room for them to work.

Rachel gripped the older woman’s arm with both her hands. “Carole, what’s happening? Finn?! FINN!!”

. . . . .

TBC.... 

Chapter Text

pick your path and I’ll pray

. . . . . 

The monitors beeped wildly with various alarms sounding in the small CICU room that was still a beehive of frenzied activity. Medical jargon was tossed around as if by a group of auctioneers, but all Rachel saw was Finn’s beautiful eyes opening and all she heard was his loving hushed words whispered only moments ago on continuous replay in her head. Right before he completely slipped out of her grasp for the second time today.

This couldn’t happen. No. Not now. Not now that he said– did she imagine it? Was it even real? Yes, she was sure it had been real. His touch was certainly real. The feel of his hand in her hair was absolutely real. The slight curl of his lips when he said forever yours was completely real. It had to be. But her head ached and throbbed almost as badly as the muscle in her chest that pounded a staccato rhythm so forcefully, she could feel it in her throat, and she just wanted him to be okay. He HAS to be okay. 

. . . . .

Puck and Quinn waited in the CICU waiting room for what felt like an eternity for news on Finn and Rachel. They each had come through their surgeries successfully, they knew that much. Carole was in with Finn and the Berry dads were in Rachel’s room while Kurt and Burt floated between both. 

Finn being in ICU meant he could only have at most two visitors at a time, and everyone knew Carole wasn’t leaving her son’s bedside. As much as Quinn wanted to lay eyes on her boyfriend for herself, it just felt wrong to invade that private space where his mother sat vigil, so she stayed put. She and Puck both decided they’d wait to be invited back to see Rachel – if and when the little diva awoke and was up for visitors. Kurt had promised to come find them with any updates, but so far all they’d been doing was fielding a slow trickle of worried calls and texts from their fellow glee friends, replying to each of them that there was no change yet.

“Holy shit,” Puck suddenly exclaimed, sitting up straighter in his chair while reading a new text. “Mike just said Azimio Adams was found in the weight room with three bullets pumped into him.”

“Oh my god... Is he... did he–”

“No. He’s alive, so far – barely from the sound of it,” Puck read Mike’s updates aloud as he received them. “He was taken to Lima County Hospital. Mike’s cousin is a doctor over there, I guess that’s how he found out... Aw, damn….”

“What else… who?”

“Stoner Brett went there too, but ah... he didn’t make it.” 

Quinn swallowed hard and shook her head sorrowfully, then shared, “Mercedes said two freshmen Cheerios were seen being taken out in ambulances – alive, but still... and a girl from her English class didn’t make it... neither did Zack.”

Puck’s head tilted in confusion as he tore his attention from his phone to look at her. “Who the hell’s Zack? Do I know a Zack?”

“Zack? Come on, Puck. Zack Taylor?” Still seeing no recognition in Puck’s face she explained “The Jazz Ensemble drummer who played at basically ALL our Glee rehearsals when Finn wasn’t drumming! Are you serious Puck? How can you not know his name? We saw him almost every rehearsal for nearly TWO years!”

“Crap, was that his name? I just... I don’t know, he was just there. Like the creepy piano guy. I called him other drummer dude in my head. S’not like I really knew the guy. But yeah, you’re right. I shoulda known the guy. I shoulda taken the time and–”

“We all should have,” Quinn sighed remorsefully, cutting him off. She realized she hadn’t really made that effort either and was awash with guilt.

In between calls and texts, they watched news reports on TV that filled them in on the gruesome facts of the day and both were left numb to learn who the shooter was. His junior yearbook photo flashed on the screen, and the pair of teens sat frozen listening to the reporter:

“WOHL has learned the identity of the shooter. Eighteen-year-old former McKinley High student David Ian Karofsky has been positively identified by authorities as the lone gunman in today’s deadly school shootings. The former Titan’s football player had been expelled from William H McKinley High just a few months ago for an incident we’re told involved threats of violence to another student. Karofsky had a history of bullying, fighting, and at least a few minor run-ins with police. Authorities have also confirmed that after wounding and taking the lives of so many others today, he turned his weapon on himself. Karofsky died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to–”

“Turn it off Puck! I can’t... I just can’t watch this anymore! And I don’t want to see his face. And I don’t want to hear the details of how he died or how troubled he was! All they’re going to do now is glorify what he did and turn him into some kind of celebrity, and he doesn’t deserve it!” Quinn stated bitterly, swiping at her tears with her fingers. “Mass murderers, serial killers and SCHOOL SHOOTERS don’t deserve to become famous!”  

“Yeah. Fuck him. May he rot in hell,” Puck snarled under his breath as he got up and turned the TV off.

“This is insane,” Quinn whispered between soft sobs.

“Yeah, insane,” he parroted numbly, then sat next to her again and slung an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, you alright?”

“Yes... it’s just... what if he would’ve gotten into the choir room? It could be us... I mean, what if he would’ve–”

“But he didn’t.”

“But he would have if he–”

Puck stood up and paced a little as he talked, an edge in his tone affirmed his anger. “But he DIDN’T, and you can’t think about that shit, Q. I’m not gonna feel guilty about living through this shit and neither should you.”

“I know... you’re right, I know it. I mean I, I don’t feel guilty, not really, I just... I can’t help but feel somehow at least partly responsible for Rachel and for Finn–”

He knelt in front of the girl and gripped her knees, shaking her legs as he spoke. “Hey hey, stop it! It’s not your fault, babe. So you and Berry had a chick battle and she stormed off at the end of it – that’s not headline news, that’s just another damn Wednesday in Glee club. And Huddy, well... he’s not your responsibility either. As much as you like to think you do, you don’t have control of what he or anyone else does. Bottom line sweetheart: none of this was your fault, or theirs either, for that matter. It was that fucking dickhead who walked into our school with an arsenal and a chip on his shoulder.” Puck stood up and looked at the now dark screen of the TV. “That piece of shit. Why the hell would he even... How the fuck... I mean, I always knew the dude was an asshole and a little off his rocker, but in a million years I couldn’t imagine he’d ever do something like this.”

Puck continued pacing the room for a few minutes then stopped to reach his arms over his head, stretching his back and neck then turned to face Quinn again. “Okay. I need to stop thinking about this shit. And my ass is going numb in sittin’ around in this chair. I need to move. Let’s go walk around, maybe hit the gift shop or something.”

Her glassy green eyes looked up to meet his hazel ones. “One of us should be here in case they come to find us with an update. What if Finn wakes up and we’re not here?”

Puck sighed. “I mean we have our phones, but whatever, suit yourself. I gotta move before I lose the feeling in my legs too. You’re okay by yourself for a few?” She nodded and he offered to bring her back some Starbursts or Skittles if he could find any, remembering she liked fruity snacks as a pick me up when she was upset (something she requested a lot during her pregnancy last year). She smiled sweetly and mouthed a quiet thanks.

. . . . .

The tears in Rachel’s eyes blurred the scene in the hallway, but she was still able to recognize the familiar figures moving toward her while the dance of medical personnel continued like a well-rehearsed tango in Finn’s room. Her fathers, Burt and Kurt, were approaching and she was so thankful to see them all.

The sight of the pair of women huddled together in the hallway in an awkward embrace (since Rachel was still in her wheelchair) clued the men in that something was decidedly wrong. 

“Carole, what’s going on? Is Finn alright?” Leroy questioned, reaching out for her arm. 

“I don’t know! He was awake for a moment... I-I mean, Rachel said he just opened his eyes, and... well I didn’t see that but then his heart monitor flatlined. But I don’t know–” her words were breathy and hollow, and the woman’s knees buckled as a fresh sob ripped from her. Burt caught his wife and held her tightly in his strong arms as her sobs choked off her words. 

Kurt knelt down to hold Rachel as best as he could with her seated in the wheelchair, her fathers flanked her, gripping her shoulders and petting her hair. Leroy kneeled down to kiss her temple and whisper assurances to her that clearly weren’t working at all, based on the terror-filled look on her face. Kurt could tell Rachel was in some degree of shock since she wasn’t responding to anyone while her tears flowed in a continuous stream, rolling in waves down her pale bruised cheeks.

Burt murmured in his wife’s ear. “Hey hey hey, I got you Carrie... I got you honey, okay? And they’ve got Finn. It’s-it’s gonna be... Let’s not think the worst yet, okay?” He fought hard against the sob that threatened to escape his own throat as he listened to the chaos coming from Finn’s room, not understanding any of it but knowing none of it could be anything good. He wanted to say everything would be okay, but he honestly didn’t know if he’d be lying to her at that point.

Suddenly a swarm of hospital personnel were hurriedly wheeling themselves and Finn – bed and all – out of the room and into the hallway. A nurse rode atop Finn’s bed still performing CPR on him while another manually pumped air into his lungs using a football shaped respirator.  

Burt yelled out asking for information but was only met with a short response from a very tall and slightly winded male nurse, who paused in the hall long enough to say “We’re taking him back to surgery. You can wait in the surgical waiting room. We’ll update you as soon as we can.” 

Before Burt could ask anything more, the reedy thin young man was jogging to catch up with his peers and disappeared into the elevator.

. . . . .

As Puck wandered down the hall in search of vending machines and an outlet for his nervous energy and outrage, he was pretty sure he saw Becky Jackson sitting in a patient room next to someone whose identity was concealed by the partially drawn patient curtain near the bed. He also caught sight of a red tracksuit balled up in a clear plastic bag on the patient table stretching over the foot end of the hospital bed. There’s only one person those clothes could have belonged to, and he headed back to find Quinn.

“Hey Q, I think I just found Becky Jackson, and I’m pretty sure she’s in a patient room with your psycho cheer coach.”

“What?! Where? Show me.” 

The pair headed back down the hall to where Puck had seen the tiny blonde girl with the huge personality. He loomed at the doorway to the room while Quinn didn’t hesitate to enter unannounced, startling Becky with her presence. 

“What are you doing here Fabray?” Becky asked softly with far less snark than usual. She eyed past Quinn to the doorway. “I see you over there too, Puckerman. Are you two cheating on Finn again?” The small girl was practically crying, her eyes shining with wetness while the tall blonde woman in the bed next to her laid perfectly still, sound asleep with one leg hung up in traction and cocooned in a full length cast from hip to foot. 

Quinn shuffled across the room toward the small girl who was still wearing her Cheerios uniform and an FBI windbreaker jacket, glancing at her former coach asleep in bed. “Hey Becky. Are you okay? You really shouldn’t be here all alone...” she finally said while surveying the room and the two women in it.

“I’m not alone, Coach is right here. She’s sleeping but she says she’s always aware of her surroundings even in her sleep, so watch what you say, Fabray. Anyway my parents are on their way to get me. A nice lady who works here was sitting with me, but she needed to go somewhere. She said she’d be right back.” Quinn nodded and sat down in the second visitor chair next to Becky, who turned to look at her. “How is my Finny Bear? Is he gonna be okay?”

“Finny Bear?” Quinn grinned ruefully and raised her eyebrow at the use of the odd nickname.

“Yeah, he likes that name, so just put that eyebrow away and quit judging me, blondie. Do you know anything or not?”

Quinn stifled a laugh and cleared her throat. “Um, we’re still waiting for news, but I can tell you he’s still asleep. They operated on him to fix him, and we’re just waiting for him to wake up now. He was hurt pretty badly.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw it happen!” Becky blurted as she began crying. “Just like I saw Jacob Ben Israel and Principal Figgins laying there on the floor, not moving. And when I was going to Coach’s car, I saw two other girls lying in the hallway. I think... I think they got hurt really bad too.” Becky was quiet for a long time then said, “I don’t think they’ll wake up again.”

Quinn gently wrapped an arm around Becky’s shoulders. “Becky, oh my gosh... you saw all of that?”

The girl nodded sadly as her shoulders shook. “I... I don’t think Principal Figgins is waking up ever. And Jacob too. And when I saw Karofsky pointing a gun at Finn I knew he needed help, so I went to find Coach. But she was already hurt too. So I had to help. I had to try to save him... but I messed up and Karofsky shot Finn!” 

Quinn gasped, raising a hand to her mouth. “You saw what happened to them? You saw Karofsky?”

“Are you deaf or just stupid? YES, I just said that! He took off his mask and I saw his face, so I know it was him. And he called me some really mean things. Then he tried to kill Rachel Berry, but Finn wouldn’t let him.”

Quinn’s jaw fell slack. “What do you mean he wouldn’t let him, did- did Finn try to stop Dave from hurting Rachel? 

Becky nodded. “He jumped in front of the gun.” 

Puck had by then moved closer to Quinn and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Tears flowed freely from Quinn’s eyes as she realized just how much Rachel must mean to him for Finn to have done that. She briefly wondered if he’d have done the same for her, then hated herself for even thinking it. 

She hugged the smaller girl a little tighter and tried to push the errant thoughts out of her head. “Oh Becky, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you saw all of that. How’s Coach?”

“She got shot in the leg. They fixed it though, and they said she’s gonna wake up when her medicine wears off. But I know she isn’t gonna be happy about this big cast.”

Quinn snickered softly, still wiping away tears that wouldn’t stop. “No probably not. Do you mind if we sit here a while and wait with you?”

Becky shrugged, “Suit yourself, it’s a free country.” She turned and shook an accusing finger at Puck, “Just NO MORE BABY MAKING, got that Puckerman?” Quinn chuckled softly and Puck threw his hands up in mock surrender, trying not to laugh.

“No worries, short stuff. Anyway what’s it to ya? You still tryin’ to get a piece of the Puckmeister?” he winked at her teasingly.

Becky scoffed at the mohawked boy. “Yeah right! In your dreams, Puckerman. Besides, I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly – this body’s too bootylicious for you.”

“That’s the truth,” Quinn agreed, chuckling softly and high fiving Becky.

. . . . .

The group of four adults plus Kurt and Rachel made their way back to the surgical waiting room. Against everyone’s wishes and better judgment, Rachel insisted on going to the waiting area instead of returning to her room. Kurt told his dad he would go find Puck and Quinn to give them an update but mostly, he just wanted a moment alone to call Blaine again. 

Carole sobbed in Burt's arms for the longest time. She refused to eat or drink anything either. Rachel had her daddy push her wheelchair over to the woman and once next to her, she took her hand.

“I’m so sorry Carole,” Rachel said in a small broken voice, the lashes of her red-rimmed brown eyes thick with wetness. 

Carole sat up and mopped her face with a tissue in her other hand. “Whatever for honey? This isn’t your fault.”

“But it is... if I had never stormed out of the choir room, Finn wouldn’t have had a reason to leave. Even though I’m still not sure why he did come looking for me in the first place.”

“Rachel darlin’ you can’t think like that,” Burt spoke softly.

“But it’s true! If I had stayed, Finn wouldn’t have gone out to find me and he would’ve been safe with Kurt and the others. And barring that, I could go so far as to apologize for our breakup – which WAS my fault – because maybe if we were still a couple, we wouldn’t have left the choir room today and–”

“Oh no, sweetie NO,” Carole cut her off and leaned over to hug the girl. “You have to stop this now. Nothing that happened today was your fault, and it wasn’t Finn’s fault either. There were a lot of people who knew that boy was troubled. There are maybe some other people who could’ve stopped this from happening today, from his teachers to his friends to his parents – or maybe nobody could’ve stopped him from doing what he did. But none of it is your fault.”

“You should hate me though, Carole. What if Finn doesn’t– Carole, he doesn’t even want to be with me anymore, yet he risked himself to save my life and now he’s in there, again, and h-he could die… What if he–”

The older woman took both Rachel’s hands and squeezed. “Sweet girl, Finn loves you, so SO much. I know he’s been stubborn and hurt and maybe he lost his way a little bit. But underneath all of that, I know my son; he loves you fiercely. And he certainly wouldn’t want you worrying like this or shouldering this blame. He is going to pull through this surgery and he’s going to wake up at some point and tell you these things himself. I know he will. But I can’t have you worrying yourself sick or blaming yourself or thinking that I blame you for anything because I certainly do not. I really wish you’d go back to your room and rest. You need time to heal too. You’ve been through so much today sweetheart, and I need you to be okay too.”

Rachel wept softly as she held Carole’s hands tightly. “I just love him so much. When I saw David and he told me what he planned to do, all I could think of was how I needed to protect him. I want to believe he’ll forgive me and that we’ll get another chance, but I’m so scared that we won’t,” she broke down into sobs again and Hiram and Leroy flocked to her.

“Star, honey come on, you really need to calm down and go rest in your room. Carole’s right baby. You need your strength. You’ve been out of bed far too long now,” Hiram pleaded. 

“I don’t care Papa! I’m not leaving until I know he’s okay! I’m fine, I’m okay enough to wait here. I need to wait here.” 

. . . . .

Quinn and Puck waited with Becky and the hospital social worker, Rita, until Becky’s parents arrived and took her home. Once she left, they returned to the waiting area in the CICU where they found Kurt talking on the phone. He quickly ended his call as his friends joined him.

“Was that Blaine?” Quinn asked, startling him.

“Oh! You two are still here, I wondered where you’d both made off to,” Kurt said distractedly.

“Why, miss me, Petunia?” Puck teased, giving Kurt a friendly slap on the back.

Kurt tilted his head slightly and smoothed a hand over his bangs. “Oddly, perhaps a little. After all, it’s been hours since anyone dropped an F bomb in my presence. I was beginning to feel a little too wholesome,” he teased back.

“Kurt,” Quinn reached out to hug Kurt in a move that took both boys by surprise. “I’m really glad that you’re... that we’re all...” she started, clearly choked up with emotion. After a few moments Kurt nodded out of the hug and held both of her hands.

“I know. Me too.” Quinn nodded and Kurt’s eyes flicked suspiciously from her to Puck and back. “So, exactly where were you two? Not off having trauma sex in a supply closet, I hope? But if you were, I hope you used protection this time; I would think one teen pregnancy was enough for both of you.”

Puck narrowed his eyes while Quinn tsked in disapproval and said, “As if... trust me, I will NOT be repeating that mistake.”

“Well that’s good news I suppose...” Kurt’s jovial facade broke almost instantly, and he began sobbing.

Quinn gripped his upper arm. “Kurt? Kurt, what is it? Is it Finn or Rachel? What happened?”

Kurt nodded. “Rachel’s awake and doing well, mostly... but... It’s Finn. He- he’s back in surgery. He woke up for a minute, but I guess... then his heart stopped.”

The room fell silent between the three teens except for the sound of sniffles. Quinn wrapped Kurt in a tight embrace, and Puck encircled them both in his arms.

“He’s gonna be fine. That big dumb sonofabitch has to be fine...” With his arms still draped around his two friends, Puck muttered firmly into Quinn’s shoulder. “He’s our quarterback and he’s not leaving us. He’s just NOT.”

They stood in a group hug until Kurt pulled away, drying his tears and once again eyeing the pair before him who were still semi-hugging. “But seriously... where were you two? I was here for a while before you showed.”

Quinn sniffled, brushing tears away and explained “We actually ran into Becky Jackson. She came in with Coach Sylvester, who apparently got shot in the leg.”

Kurt’s eyes went wide. “You’re kidding? Coach Sue?”

Quinn nodded and her voice softened. “Kurt, Becky said she was with Finn and Rachel in the auditorium when they were... well, when everything happened. She also saw when Dave...” the blonde trailed off, everyone seeming to understand what she was saying.

“Oh my god... Yes, I- I heard about David on the news,” Kurt whispered, swallowing hard. He quieted for a few beats then asked “Is she okay, Becky? And Coach Sylvester, is she–”

Puck tossed a hand up. “That crazy battleax is one tough old broad. She’ll survive. While Q sat with Becky waiting on her parents to pick her up, I coaxed a cute little nurse intern into giving me a status update– OW!” Quinn slapped Puck on the arm, but he continued on undeterred. “No need to be jealous babe. As I was saying, I guess Coach took some shrapnel in the bone. The damage was pretty bad, so they operated and she’s in a full leg cast. She lost a lotta blood too and has to stick around a while for more transfusions, but she’s gonna be fine.”

“Becky’s tough as nails too, like Sue’s little mini-me. She still seemed a little shaken up, but I think she’ll be alright in time. Luckily she wasn’t injured though,” Quinn added.

“Right. Cockroaches and Coach Sylvester. Both would survive a nuclear blast,” Kurt snickered. “Well I’m glad they’re both going to be alright. I still can’t believe Principal Figgins though...” 

“I know. I was shocked to hear that too,” Quinn said quietly. She studied Kurt a little more closely; he looked completely lost in thought. “Are you alright, Kurt? You seem, I don’t know. Unsettled.”

“It’s an unsettling day, isn’t it?” He continued gazing off at a far wall before he spoke again. “I just wish Blaine could be here, but his parents won’t let him leave the house yet until the media circus dies down. It’s just... I still can’t believe David Karofsky is the one responsible for this nightmare. And I can’t help but feel guilty. Maybe if I’d at least told his father what I knew sooner this might not have happened.”

“What do you mean? Told his old man what exactly?” Puck asked.

“I... Oh, I hate to speak about the dead like this, but I guess there’s no point hiding it anymore. David... at some point between all the harassment and physical attacks, he kissed me. In the locker room at school, back before he was expelled.”

“Wait, WHAT?! KAROFSKY? Are you telling us DAVID KAROFSKY was gay?!” Puck exclaimed, trying not to shout but obviously stunned by the news.

Kurt sighed deeply shaking his head a little. “Well, he was still sorting it out I suppose. And I mean, that kiss, it wasn’t invited or a welcomed advance in any capacity, and certainly wasn’t reciprocated... it was actually, uh, Blaine said it was assault. And he’s right; it was.”

“Kurt!” Quinn gasped. “You never said anything?” 

“No. I couldn’t report him. David was at the very least confused, or questioning, or, well I really don’t know... but he was also self-hating. It was clear he was struggling, but he never would talk to me and Blaine about it – and we did try to talk to him, to offer him a safe space to open up or ask questions. Instead though, he threatened to kill me if I told anyone what happened and said he’d deny it even if I did. After everything he’d done and said up to that point, I wasn’t sure if his threat was serious.”

Quinn sucked in a sharp breath, “So that’s what got him expelled?”

The pale, thin boy nodded. “Well I certainly never told anyone about the kiss. It- it didn’t seem right. Telling would have mean outing him and that wasn’t my place to do – especially when I knew the boy wasn’t even sure of himself yet. He was just so full of rage and self-loathing, and I was so scared... but then Finn found me crying at home and overheard some of my talk with Blaine. He heard the part about Karofsky threatening me. I filled him in on just enough that he understood my fears and David’s cruel behavior. 

“I never asked Finn to speak on my behalf, but the next thing I knew he was giving a statement to the school board about overhearing the death threat and witnessing numerous violent acts against me. Of course, he hadn’t actually witnessed or directly heard anything. Rachel had coached him about David’s actions being considered hate crimes and I guess Finn used that knowledge to spook the school board. You know, threat of lawsuits, bad press et cetera.” 

“Finn never mentioned any of this to me,” Quinn said softly. “So he lied and got Dave expelled, which probably means he came back for revenge... oh my god. It all makes sense now.”

“Yeah, but that sack of shit deserved to be expelled for some of the shit he pulled. I’ve known him a lot longer than either of you and I know a lot more things he’s gotten away with that he shouldn’t have. The school’s a better place without him,” Puck interjected.

Kurt released a half sob half exhale. “That might be true, but I wouldn’t have ever wished him to be dead… so anyway, you see, this is still my fault for never speaking up sooner... I should’ve gone to his dad or told SOMEONE about the kiss, and then who knows, maybe he’d have been arrested or would’ve gotten the help he needed. But now people are dead, HE’s dead, and one of my dearest friends is shot and my brother is still fighting for his life and– I just never meant for any of this to hap–”

Kurt gave in to his tears and Quinn pulled him back into her arms. “NO! No no, Kurt. Don’t. You didn’t make any of this happen. It’s not your fault and you have nothing to feel guilty about. You were the first victim in all of this, so you cannot blame yourself. I’m actually proud of you for how you handled things and I’m so sorry you had to carry the weight of this secret all alone for so long.”

“Well I wasn’t completely alone. I had Blaine, but still, I should’ve said–”

“No Hummel. Like Q said, it ain’t on you. I don’t give a rat’s ass what he was struggling with; Karofsky was an asshole when he was alive, and he’s a bigger asshole and a coward now that he’s dead and I don’t pity the fucker one iota. You don’t unload your shit on other people that way. Even if you had said something, doesn’t mean it woulda changed anything... But dammit dude, next time anyone lays a hand on you – I don’t care who it is or why or how – you tell me. I woulda kicked that fucker’s fat ass from here to Toledo if I knew.”

“Thank you, Puck, I appreciate the sentiment,” Kurt sniffled peeking up at Puck and squeezed Quinn a little tighter for a moment before releasing her. “And you too, Quinn, thank you... but why are you being so nice to me now? You’ve been dating my brother for all these weeks, but we’ve never talked like this before.”

The blonde wiped away a stray tear. “Well. Let’s just say, today has changed a few things. I’m sorry we haven’t been closer before now, or that it took something this awful to make me see things in a different light. But I want us to be friends from now on, okay?”

Kurt nodded, seeming to understand that in fact all their lives had been changed forever after this day. “I’m sure that will make Finn happy,” he smiled ruefully.

Quinn shrugged a little “Maybe, but I’m not sure that it matters. In fact I’m pretty sure Finn and I are no longer dating after today, but no matter what, I still want us to be friends.”

“What are you– oh. Because of Rachel?” Quinn didn’t respond but everyone in the room knew the odds were very much in favor of a Finchel reunion on the heels of this tragic event. “Honey, I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I believe Finn cares very deeply for you.”

“But he doesn’t love me. Not the way he loves her.”

“No, maybe not... But I also think you already knew that and seemed to be willing to accept that aspect of your relationship with him.”

She looked at him almost pleadingly. “He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”

Kurt looked up to the ceiling fighting more tears. “Yes. I hope so. He has to be. I just can’t handle any more loss right now. Carole can’t either. She needs him and I actually like having a brother, so it’s like you said, Puck; he’s our quarterback. He has to be okay.”

. . . . .

Minutes and hours went by as the small group sat together on pins and needles once again in the surgical wing waiting for any news on Finn’s second surgery. The teens had walked into the waiting room to join the adults, all three a little surprised to see Rachel there too.

Puck and Quinn stayed huddled in one corner, Hiram and Leroy in another, with Kurt next to Rachel in her wheelchair near a window, both watching silently as twilight slipped into darkness outside. Rachel had stubbornly insisted on being there for as long as she could handle being out of bed. 

Neither Carole nor Burt could sit still – Carole just needed to pace, and Burt needed to be close to her in case she needed him. Carole, the veteran nurse, was normally the level-headed authority figure in times of struggle, the matriarch of her family, the glue. But not now. Now, Carole the mother was walking a tightrope of terror and fear and was coming undone the longer they waited for an update on Finn’s condition. Her son’s heart had stopped beating and at least for those few moments she was sure hers had too.

After a while of enduring the strained silence, Burt took this time to share with the group his earlier run-in with Paul Karofsky. Carole had quickly waved him into silence, not wanting to hear about the man who created the monster who almost (and still may have) killed her son. Carole Hudson Hummel was a compassionate woman with a heart the size of the sun, but not when it comes to anyone hurting her baby. Any of her babies. And two of them were very injured, and now one of them was hanging on by a thread. 

“Burt, I love you, but do not say that name in front of me again any time soon,” she declared in an almost feral growl. Earlier in the day when Carole had learned the identity of the person responsible for harming her kids, she wanted blood and practically came unhinged. She’d launched into a seemingly endless semi-hysterical rant that escalated until Burt dragged her unwillingly outside for there to be enough air to catch all her rage. 

She’d paced and screamed and punched at the air. She’d blamed the boy’s parents. She’d blamed the school. She’d blamed God and the universe. Her actions were clearly borne of the fear and dread that hadn’t left her gut since Finn texted her at exactly 3:07 p.m. that afternoon, a feeling that wasn’t going to leave her until her awake, alert son was wrapped safely in her arms and could say ‘I’m okay Mom’ softly in her ear. Burt had never, ever seen her in this state before – nobody had, really. The only other time she’d been this far over the edge was the day she learned Christopher’s fate all those years ago and had to drive to Cincinnati to identify his body. 

Burt collected his manic wife in his arms as she howled, knowing he would never fully understand a mother’s pain on this scale. But he knew something about a father’s pain though and figured it couldn’t be that different. They’d both been shocked and terrified when their boys contacted them earlier about the events unfolding at McKinley, but nothing prepared the man for the sight of this wildly protective woman pacing like a wounded lioness in front of him now and screaming at the sky incoherently. 

“He’s gonna be okay, Care.”

“You don’t know that!”

“No, but I know what you told me before. Didn’t the docs warn about the side effects from his injuries? You seemed to understand it better than me when they explained it. They said it could get worse before it got better... seems like this is worse, so better has to be next, right?”

Carole sobbed silently as her body shook violently in his arms. “He’s my SON Burt! I can’t ... I can’t lose him...”

“I know baby, I know. Finn’s young, healthy and strong. He’s a fighter like his mama. He’ll pull through,” Burt said, and all he could do after that was pray he was right.

. . . . .

Rachel had refused to leave the waiting room until finally her headache and sore chest became too much and her parents insisted she go back to her room to rest. Kurt volunteered to go with her, assuring her they had a phone connection to Burt and Carole and would know the instant anything changed with Finn’s status. At Rachel’s command, Hiram and Leroy took turns with one of them waiting with the Hummels and the other staying in her room.

It was already dark out and closer to tomorrow than tonight when Puck finally talked Quinn into leaving for the night, with promises from the Hudmel family to call with any updates in their absence no matter what time it was. It was clear Finn would not be receiving any visitors outside his immediate family tonight – and Puck hadn’t missed the envious glares Quinn shot at Rachel all night knowing the petite brunette was considered more a part of that inner circle than she was. 

Since Puck had driven them there in Kurt’s SUV, he called Quinn’s mother to come pick both of them up. He knew his own mother was planning to sit shiva with the Ben Israel family and to talk to their rabbi to plan a memorial. Everyone had been stunned by news of the loss of Jacob, and the Jewish community of Lima would band together to celebrate such a senseless end of a promising young life. Even if the kid was a major nerd and superior pain in the ass, he was still an innocent in this nightmare and didn’t deserve Karofsky’s wrath.

When Judy Fabray arrived, she came inside to hug Carole and offer condolences and prayers. As she readied her kids to leave, Quinn asked Puck to go wait in the car with her mother saying she’d be outside shortly. He raised an eyebrow in question as much as in warning, but she assured him it would be fine, and she wouldn’t be long. 

Quinn headed to Rachel’s room and was a little surprised when her dad and Kurt excused themselves to the hallway so easily. A long silence filled the space between the two girls. 

“He’s going to be alright you know,” Quinn finally said matter of factly, breaking the ice.

Rachel nodded imperceptibly. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, but she remained silent, clutching a pink stuffed bear her daddies had brought her from home. It was a prize Finn had won for her at the county fair last summer and had become her favorite source of comfort, especially since their breakup.

“Rachel, listen. I.. know we’ve had our differences, you and me. But I’m so relieved that you’re okay, and I’m so sorry about our fight or whatever. And I’m even more sorry that I made another move on Finn to begin with; I know he and I don’t belong together.” The small brunette’s eyes grew wide as she listened to Quinn speak, but still she said nothing.

Quinn took a deep breath and forged ahead with her speech. “He’s going to break up with me anyway, I’m sure, but honestly, it’s clear to me that he loves you in a way he’s never felt about me. So I’m bowing out. I just wanted you to know that – girl to girl. I’m not going to stand in the way anymore, and I hope there’s no hard feelings between us.”

Finally Rachel found her voice. “You’re... what? What is this Quinn, are you... are you giving me permission or your blessing or something? Because if that’s the case, I don’t need–”

“You’re his soulmate, Rachel. You belong together,” Quinn asserted, effectively cutting off Rachel before she could say anything else. “What I said before about me getting Finn and you getting heartbroken? I was wrong. I knew it when I said it – well, kind of. I did mean the part about wanting you to go be the star we know you’re destined to be in New York; you really don’t belong here in Lima. But the rest, well. I was being selfish, maybe even a little spiteful, and I’m sorry. The things you said in the choir room today, you were right. He deserves to be happy. And he’s happiest when he’s with you. I just didn’t want to admit it then. Also, he does deserve better than the way we’ve both treated him, so... don’t mess it up this time.” The blonde winked and Rachel gave her a tight smile.

“You’re assuming I’ll ever get another chance,” Rachel said softly.

“You will.”

Rachel nodded once, hoping to will that sentiment into reality. “Okay. Then I’ll do my best not to mess it up,” Rachel answered quietly, brushing a few tears from her cheeks. “Thank you, Quinn. Thank you for being here, and for... well, just thank you. And I’m so glad you’re okay too.”

Quinn rolled her eyes a little and nodded, turning to walk toward the doorway, but pausing to speak over her shoulder. “You put him back together after I broke him last time. I thought I was doing the same thing this time after you broke him, but I really wasn’t. He needed you all along. And you need him too, I can see that. Just know, if you hurt him again, you’ll have to answer to me.”

“Noted,” Rachel said through the whisper of a smile as Quinn slipped out of the room. 

. . . . .

Nearly an hour after Puck and the Fabrays left, Dr Lewis finally came out into the waiting room to find Carole. 

“Mrs Hummel– Carole, you can breathe now. He’s fine. He did great and the second surgery went well.”

“Thank god!” Carole exclaimed as she fell into Burt’s arms. 

Dr Lewis sat down across from her still in his surgical scrubs, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees. He placed a reassuring hand on her knee as he explained, “You may have guessed already, but it was tamponade and cardiogenic shock. There was a second, very small pinhole leak in the pericardium that we think was masked in the first images for the last surgery. But this is why we monitored him so closely and why we have him in CICU. Given the nature of his injuries, we knew this was a possibility and we were ready for it.”

Carole had never been more relieved in her life, and honestly, she didn’t hear much after you can breathe now. Burt and Leroy both looked completely flummoxed and Burt said “Honey, I gather from your teary smile there’s good news here, but can you translate?”

“There was another hole in the sack around his heart. It caused a kind of shock to the heart muscle which sort of fried his whole cardiac electrical system and made his heart stop...” Carole paused and closed her eyes.

“That’s right,” Dr Lewis added. “We did our best the first time to repair all the damage from that bullet, but shrapnel is tricky. Any foreign invader in your body is bad news, but gunshot wounds have the risk of minute particles and debris that can be easily missed. Sometimes the fluid in the sack around the heart has a hard time regulating after this kind of injury. The fluid builds up too fast sometimes, and pressure on the original repairs are sometimes undone. It’s a little like a tire blow out from over inflating it. It finds the weakest spot and breaks through – or in this case, exposes something we didn’t see the first time through; the second leak.”

“Well now you're speaking a language I can follow,” Burt joked. “I own a tire shop.”

The doctor grinned lightheartedly. “Then you can understand when I tell you the fluctuations in PSI of the innertube around his heart matters a lot to his overall system working properly.”

“So this surgery was kinda like applying fix-a-flat over the new hole?” Burt asked.

“Ah, it’s a bit more complicated than that, but yes, to a certain extent that’s what it’s like. Carole, I don’t want you to worry too much. I know you will anyway, but I think he’s mostly out of the woods now, though time will tell. We’ve loaded him up with antibiotics to prevent infection and we’ll keep a very close watch on him. I expect a couple weeks healing time should be needed to say he’s completely out of the woods and not at risk for a repeat of this situation. So I expect we’ll be getting to see a lot of each other since he will stay in the CICU for the duration.”

“I expected as much as soon as I knew he was seeing a cardiothoracic surgeon. Thank you, Dr Lewis. I mean, I can’t say it enough, just–” Carole pulled to man into a tight embrace.

“It’s my pleasure. You’ve got yourself a fighter, Carole. He’s a strong young man. He’s in for a bit of a tough recovery but I’m sure he’ll pull through with flying colors.”

. . . . .

TBC…

Chapter Text

songbirds keep singing like they know the score 

While Burt checked on Rachel (and despite the very late hour, Kurt went to call Blaine), Carole sat vigil in Finn’s CICU room alone. He’s only allowed two visitors at a time and Burt offered to sit with her, but she asked for time alone with her son, and he seemed to fully understand without further discussion.  

When Rachel was first brought to her regular room after surgery, Carole had checked in on the girl she already regarded as part of her family-- and held hope that one day she might officially become so. It had been for her own peace of mind, but also because she knew Finn would want to know how Rachel was doing the moment he woke up.

Sitting in the quiet of the room now, Carole wept silently reflecting on the day’s events. People had died today as a result of those events. And if the fates had been any more cruel, some of her people could’ve been counted among them -- including her most important person. 

Carole knew Burt had been as lost and teetering on the edge of sanity as she was until he had Kurt in his arms safe and sound. She knew their bond was just as strong as her own with Finn. Kurt was emotionally wrecked, but thankfully, with time and support, he would recover.

Rachel had suffered a Grade 2 concussion. Her gunshot wound was by all accounts a best-case scenario (largely thanks to her son’s foolish but love-sick heroics, so it seemed). Her surgery went well with no major physical damage or complications. The Berrys had been as terrified as any parent would be in such an unthinkable scenario, but Rachel would also heal without too much worry of lasting physical concerns, with little more than a scar or two to show for it. 

Carole was sure her someday daughter and both her Hummel boys would be just fine. Her still sleeping Hudson boy was the one she needed to focus on now.

Finn had suffered the worst of their kids’ injuries – he literally took the bullet meant for that girl and had been fighting for his life ever since. She was still trying to get her head around his actions. On one hand she was so proud of him for standing up for the girl she knows means everything to him, but on the other hand she was so enraged that he could put himself in that kind of danger. 

He was lucky to even be alive right now – in truth, they both were. Even if Finn hadn’t risked everything to help Rachel, there was still a chance that dangerous boy could’ve gotten into the choir room and done even more damage to a roomful of kids that Carole cared so much about. The rational part of her knew these things, that the day could’ve ended so much worse. 

The nurse in her understood the medical aspects. The human side of her knew anyone who faced a crazed gunman – especially in the name of love – and survived to tell the tale was incredibly fortunate. But the mother in her didn’t care about logic or heroism. She wanted to just slap her son for scaring the ever-loving hell out of her. Finn was all she had left in the world that was truly HERS, and the only living vestige of her time with Christopher that she had left to cling to; she’d do that with both hands and her entire being for as long as needed until he was awake and healthy again. 

Carole had waited with Finn after his first surgery, but when Kurt came to find her and explained Rachel’s hysteria upon first waking, she knew the small girl needed her too. She felt the same pull to go check on Rachel as she did with her own son. It wasn’t even a question if she’d be willing to go see her. 

Bringing Rachel to see Finn, to see that he was still here, alive and fighting, had felt necessary. But missing the moment when he woke up… that hurt. It felt like she had been cheated out of something precious.  She didn’t resent Rachel for being the one he awoke to. She just wished she could have been there too, to see it with her own eyes. She just needed to know he’s okay and going to BE okay. That selfish mother side of her needed that reassurance, more than anything.

After he’d flatlined and required a second surgery, the stakes seemed higher now. So for right now, she just needs this quiet time to herself with her son. She knew Rachel, Burt, and Kurt needed that same reassurance -- but right now, she couldn’t think about anyone else’s needs except her own. Nothing else mattered other than the rhythmic sound of her son’s heart monitor at this time.

“Your heartbeat is still just as soothing to me now as it was when you were still growing inside me. I always looked forward to hearing it during my OB appointments. It made you seem so much more real to me.” 

She held one of his large pale hands sandwiched between both of hers and sighed.

“Oh Finny... I know you love her. I’ve seen how hard you’ve struggled with your feelings ever since she hurt you all those months ago. But honey, did you really need to make such a grand gesture to prove your love to anyone? Don’t get me wrong — I love Rachel. I’m SO proud of you. And I’m thrilled that she’s okay, I truly am. I would be devastated if she... well... I would never wish that heartbreak on you. I’ve lived through it myself. So has Burt. It’s a kind of pain I hope you never have to feel. So yes, I am so proud of you for being so brave. For protecting her. For being the man I raised you to be. I just wish… I wish it didn’t come at this cost.” 

She paused to tamp down her tears and adjust his blankets, then stood up to stretch and made her way around all the medical equipment to check his vitals and cardiac readings again. Each time the automated blood pressure cuff inflated then deflated, she held her breath until the monitor finally beeped out an updated reading. 

So far so good. 

Finn’s surgery had also gone well, so they said. She already knows from experience this is ‘the golden hour’ after surgery when all is quiet and well; but of course, anything could turn on a dime after an injury like this and a surgery so delicate and complex. He was by no means completely out of the woods, no matter what silver linings they tried to paint for her. 

She settled back at her post next to his bed and massaged her own neck after a little while, the stiffness of the uncomfortable visitor chair and the events of the day finally beginning to take their toll. Stress, worry and outright terror had steeped so deeply into her that the tension finally wouldn’t be ignored any longer. 

Leaning on her elbows against his mattress, she watched her son’s chest rise and fall at a steady pace, sometimes laying her hand gently on it just to feel him and know he was still there – mindful not to disturb his wound site or any of the numerous leads attached to his bare chest. She’d done the same thing when he was a little boy, sick with some flu or another. Back then, she’d cuddle him against her chest in a rocking chair or in bed sometimes and always relished in the comfort of feeling his breathing as his little torso expanded and contracted. She needed that closeness with him again now more than ever.

She hung her head for a while, deep in thought. This was one of those times in the past 16 years she wished Finn’s father could still be there, and in the face of this kind of struggle – as always - she felt his presence.

“Chris, sweetheart… I know you’re here right now.” Her voice was soft as a whisper and her eyes fixed upon her son’s bruised face. “I can feel you in the room. I know you’re watching over our boy — like always, I’m sure.” 

She gripped Finn’s hand a little tighter and nodded toward his sleeping form. “Look at what we did together. Isn’t he amazing? Beautiful and perfect and amazing. Practically a man already. I couldn’t be more proud of the person he’s becoming. He’s the best thing you and I ever did Chrissy — the best gift you could’ve ever left me… since you had to leave me…” She let out a shaky breath, feeling the sudden sting of tears.

“He’s all the best parts of both of us. Well, and a few of the not-so-great ones,” she added with a soft laugh. “I could’ve lived without your temper and those kicking outbursts getting passed on to him. I’ve never told him that, but yeah, there’s no denying — he’s a HUDSON, alright.”

“And honey… I know you miss him. I’m sure you can’t wait for your time to really get to know him. But Chrissy — this is not your time yet, okay?” Her voice cracked with emotion. “I’m not done with him. And he can’t be done here. So you’ll just have to wait your turn, Hudson. You hear me?”  She choked back a soft, mirthless laugh.

She grabbed a tissue from the box on the bedside table and wiped her nose, then cleared her throat softly.

“He loves you, Chris. I’ve tried to bring you to life for him — in stories, in photos, with old home movies — but I know it’s not the same. I know he wants to really know you the way I did… and one day I hope he will. But for now, he still has things left to do here. He still has so much life left to live… so many things to discover and grow from and contribute to. So many lives out there will be better just for having known him. Look at the impact he’s already had in these sixteen short years... Maybe I’m being selfish, but I don’t care. I want him here. I need him. And Rachel needs him. And he needs her.”

A few tears shimmered in her lashes, but she smiled despite them. 

“Maybe that’s the one good thing to come out of today? Maybe he finally figured it out, that she’s the one. I think we’re gonna have little Broadway grandbabies someday.” She stroked the side of Finn’s head, combing his bristly hair with her fingers, her smile growing as she laughed quietly. “Well. Hopefully not too soon. I’m sure you know about that scare last year with that other girl… I mean, I know he’s not the cleverest soul on earth sometimes, but a hot tub? . . . He needed you then, Chris. Maybe he would have come to you first and not suffered through that mess of lies for as long as he did. Why the hell did you have to…” Her words faltered, and she shook her head, letting the silence fill with the words she couldn’t utter.

“Well. Never mind. I’ve never gotten that answer in all the years I’ve been asking it; it’s not coming now either. . . . I guess the point is, you can’t take him yet, okay? But maybe, if you have any pull where you are, maybe you can make sure he wakes up again soon? Rachel wants to see him just as much as I do. Okay?” 

She paused and smiled, reflecting on that pint-sized whirlwind musical miracle that is Rachel Berry and how that girl has changed their lives in such a short span of time. “And maybe keep an eye on her, too. She’s such a good girl, a wonderful girl, Chris. So beautiful. A little outspoken. A little dramatic... but she’s a total spitfire. So perfect for him. I think she’s just what our boy needs to become the best version of himself. She and I, we’ve gotten pretty close. I was so sad when they hurt each other the way did those months back and they both did stupid things and… well, you know the Hudson stubborn streak. Your son, he just walked away to go lick his wounds… but I knew they weren’t done. It’s been so hard not to just shake him by the ears and tell him to quit being such a BOY and go fix this mess! I think after today, he’s ready to do that. She adores our baby so much. And you’d adore her. Well, maybe you already do. Maybe you’ve seen more than I have.”

She glanced back at Finn, brushing a wayward lock of hair from his forehead.

“And maybe the fact that our very stubborn Hudson boy is lying here now — fighting for his life after fighting to save hers — maybe that’s no surprise to you. I guess it’s not much of a surprise to me either, really. He is his father’s son, after all.”

Her voice dropped to a soft whisper. “God I miss you Chrissy.” She fell quiet for a moment, blinking away tears. “I’m done being angry with you. I know it’s been a while since we had our talks at night... but you know why that is.” 

Sucking in a long breath, she let herself cry now, just a little. “I want to thank you for that, too. For Burt. I’m sure you found a way to make that happen. If it couldn’t be you, I know it had to be someone you approved of... and I believe in my heart you handpicked him and sent him to me. So thank you. I love him, with all my heart. And I’m happier than I’ve been since... well, I’m sure you know...” she trailed off, letting her memories of her time with Chris fill her mind.

Her eyes refocused on Finn and she pressed her lips to his temple, then rested her forehead gently against his. “Just like I’m sure you know how much longer our baby is going to be lying in this bed. But if you wanted to give him a little shake… or a tickle… I just need to see his eyes again... They’re your eyes, you know. And I miss them. I miss you. So much.”

“Mom?”

Carole’s quiet monologue was interrupted as Kurt hesitantly crept into the room, afraid he was intruding.

“Oh, Kurt, honey — come on in.”

“Are you sure? I– I don’t want to interrupt, or disturb you if—”

“Nonsense. I was just... y’know, talking to Finn.” She smiled weakly. “And maybe to a few ghosts,” she added with a soft laugh, wiping her eyes and sitting up a little straighter in the rickety bedside chair.

Kurt stepped to her side and rested a hand gently on her shoulder. “I do that sometimes too. I understand.” He moved to Finn’s bedside, reaching down to rub his calf. “Any change?”

Carole shook her head slowly, exhaling a shaky, tired breath. “No. He’s just resting — letting his body do the hard work now.” She offered a small smile, fighting the urge to cry again. “How’s Rachel?”

“Sleeping. Finally.”

“Good. You should probably be doing that yourself — it’s getting very late.”

“I know. Dad said the same thing. He wants to take me home, and I think I’m ready to go... I just needed to see him first,” he said, gazing at his brother’s still form under the blankets.

“He’s going to be okay Kurt. And I meant what I said earlier — I’m so glad you’re okay too. I don’t know what I would’ve done if...” She trailed off, her voice catching. “You’re my son too. I love you like you’re my own. Just as a fiercely, just as deeply… you know that, right?”

Kurt sniffled, not bothering to hide his tears. “I do. And I love you too, Mom. I decided a while ago — if Rachel can have two dads, then I can have two moms. And I’m glad my second mom is you. I like to think maybe Elizabeth sent you to us.” 

Carole pulled him in for a long embrace and kissed his cheeks through both their tears.

She stroked his hair a little, moving her hand to cradle his cheek. “Go home and get some sleep baby. Tell your dad I’ll call if there’s any change for either of them.”

. . . . .

The next morning, the Berry dads arrived with a big breakfast spread – apparently donated by their local IHOP – and a bag full of clothes and personal items for both Carole and Finn, which Kurt had brought along. He’d come to the hospital with them while Burt made a quick stop at the tire shop just to check in on his crew.

Rachel had trouble sleeping due to both pain and trauma, not to mention her distress over Finn’s precarious condition. Too much time out of bed last night must’ve taken its toll, so her doctors increased her pain medications and added a mild sleep aid. She complained of dizziness and slight double vision that morning, which her doctor confirmed was likely from the concussion. At her father’s insistence, she was to stick to her bed and rest as much as possible – though they allowed her to peek in on Finn for a few minutes after breakfast. He still hadn’t awakened from his second surgery yet, and the uncertainty of his recovery wasn’t helping with her inability to sleep or rest comfortably.

By mid-morning, Blaine – along with the majority of the Glee club members – began trickling in throughout the day, offering well-wishes to both families and hanging around to lend support or run errands as needed. 

Puck, Sam and Mike all volunteered to help out at the tire shop until Burt and Finn were both able to return to their regular shifts. 

Refusing to let either family eat too much hospital cafeteria food, Tina and Mercedes (and their mothers) had offered to cook dinners that Santana and Brittany offered to do the shopping for. 

Artie would have come, but his mother was still so shaken by the events of the previous day that she refused to let him leave the house. Instead, he joined everyone on video chat and promised to visit as soon as he was off ‘house arrest’.

Quinn and Puck managed to drive Finn’s truck and Rachel’s car back from the school to their respective driveways. Nobody in the Glee Club batted an eyelash when the pair arrived at the hospital together, Puck’s arm slung around her shoulders. They were even seen holding hands. In most of their friends’ opinions, the two of them were as inevitable as Finn and Rachel—and maybe it was one good thing to come out of the tragedies the community was still reeling from.

Mr Schuester and Miss Pillsbury arrived after lunch and spent some time visiting with the Berrys in Rachel’s room. Mr Schue stopped by Finn’s room long enough to offer Carole a hug and some words of support, but he didn’t stay long.

He also brought everyone up to speed on the school’s reaction in the aftermath. The school board had been forced to close the school for the remainder of the year so that the FBI could complete their investigation and a contractor could assess any damage to the building for necessary repairs and planned improvements. 

According to Mr. Schue, a community meeting was being planned to discuss new safety measures, including metal detectors and full-time security guards. Upon hearing this, Burt called the superintendent to express that his family very much wanted a voice in that conversation—just not yet. It was agreed they would postpone the community discussion until both he and Carole were able to participate.

Mr Schue also explained that a memorial service was being planned for Principal Figgins. He was hesitant to ask whether the kids would be willing to perform, but he didn’t need to; Tina and Mercedes spoke for the club, asking how many songs they could contribute. Principal Figgins had always regarded the New Directions as his favorite live musical act, and they were eager to honor him—even if they’d be short of their co-captains.

The last unexpected visitor of the day was Detective Wallace. He was mostly just checking the status of all the injured victims in this case, making his rounds to the three area hospitals where they’d all been taken. Normally he wouldn’t have troubled himself with this leg work – a junior team member would typically be the point of contact for this sort of thing. Karofsky was already dead, it’s not like they were still building a case. But the details of the fallout mattered for their reports, and also, he just felt personally invested in this one. Burt Leroy and Hiram met with the man, who also (reluctantly) checked in on Sue Sylvester and two others who’d been admitted the night before.

. . . . .

The hours ticked away, and as dinner time approached, the Glee club visitors had filtered out of the hospital again. They’d all taken turns visiting with Rachel for a few minutes in small groups. Since Rachel wasn’t up for long visits and none were permitted in the CICU to see Finn, they knew there wasn’t much reason to stick around anyway. 

Blaine and Kurt opted to head to Mercedes’ house with Sam, Tina and Mike to help with dinner preparation for the Hudson-Hummel-Berry families. 

The Berry men got a phone call and needed to deal with an urgent, unavoidable work emergency. They promised to return in an hour or two for a later supper in Rachel’s room, and Burt assured them both he’d hold the fort in their absence. He reminded them Kurt would be coming back soon anyway and they both felt assured their daughter was in good hands.

Before the Berrys left, Shelby Corcoran made a surprise appearance in Rachel’s room. Since Rachel was still asleep, the men ushered the woman out to the hallway and asked her to keep her distance until such time that Rachel woke up and could say whether or not the woman should be allowed to visit.

They were both still quite angry with the way the woman had connivingly wormed her way into Rachel’s life last year, what with all the Jesse St James nonsense and then the further insult of adopting a child from one of her classmates while refusing to be part of her life. All of this, several years before their contracted agreement permitted her to even have any contact with Rachel. Hiram and Leroy both felt their daughter had suffered more than enough emotional turmoil over the past year because of Shelby and they certainly didn’t want to expose her to any further trauma or additional heartache at this point in time.

Shelby seemed a little disheartened, saying she was planning to move back to New York soon but hoped to at least see Rachel once more before leaving. She reluctantly but respectfully agreed to their request to keep her distance though and vacated the hospital without further discussion.

. . . . .

“STOP! PLEASE NO! RACHEL!!” 

Carole had nodded off in her chair at her son’s bedside and jolted awake to find him thrashing violently, calling Rachel’s name over and over. It took several minutes until her soothing touch finally broke through to him. 

“Finn, honey! It’s okay, you’re alright. You’re safe, Rachel is safe. Everyone’s okay....”  She held his face cradled in her hands, repeating her calming mantra over and over until his eyes finally focused on hers and he began to settle beneath her touch. 

Carol stroked his chest softly avoiding the many bandages, wires and EKG leads, but her words were firm and grounding. “You need to stay calm and keep your pulse rate down baby; your heart can’t take the stress right now.”

Once the nightmare subsided and consciousness took hold, Finn rasped hoarsely, “Mom? Are– are you sure she’s alright? Karofsky had her tied up and– he was gonna kill her, Mom! I couldn’t stop him... I was tied up too and– and he aimed the gun at her and he— Where is she?! I need to see her, Mom! Where is she?”

“Shhh, baby, shhh... I swear honey, she’s perfectly okay. She’s here, in her room in this hospital. She just went back to rest. She was here earlier, keeping me company and keeping watch over you. I promise she’s fine, but I’ll go get her, okay?”

Finn struggled trying to sit up, but Carole gently pressed him back to the mattress. “She’s– she’s here? You’re sure she’s okay? He hit her so fucking hard Mom, she was bleeding, and I thought–”

“Carrie did I hear yelling, what’s happ– OH, Finn!”  Burt exclaimed as he rushed from the door to his son’s bedside. “What a sight for sore eyes! Thank god you’re awake son, we were so damned worried!” 

He’d heard the commotion from the hallway on his way back from the restroom and rushed back to find his wife sitting on the edge of her son’s bed gripping Finn’s shoulders trying to keep him flat on the bed.

Carole’s hazel eyes met her husband’s green ones. “He needs to see her, and she’ll want to see him. Can you–”

“On it. Kurt and Blaine are in her room watching a movie with her. I’ll get him to wrangle her up pronto,” he said, giving Carole’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he fished out his phone from his pocket. He turned his gaze to his stepson. “Finn buddy, you just lay there and relax, okay? That little gal’s gonna be just as happy and relieved to see you awake as we are.”

. . . . .

Rachel had convinced her dads to go home for a shower, a change of clothes, and a real night’s sleep. She’d assured them she’d be fine, especially since the Hudmels were staying there for the night. Even Burt chimed, assuring them he’d keep an eye on her. Eventually they relented and said their goodnights after dinner with a promise to return first thing in the morning. 

Kurt and Blaine had promised to keep her company and set up Kurt’s portable DVD player for possibly his thousandth viewing of Funny Girl. They were midway into the movie when Burt called to say Finn was awake. 

Since Finn’s visitors were restricted, Blaine stayed back in Rachel’s room. Kurt pushed Rachel’s wheelchair down the hall toward the CICU. As they pulled to a stop near Finn’s room where Burt waited for them, Kurt leaned down to tell Rachel, “I think you two need some privacy right now. I’m gonna go call your fathers and let everyone in Glee know the good news.”

Carole noticed the small gathering at the doorway and waved Rachel in. “It’s okay honey, come on in,” she cooed softly. Burt helped Rachel wheel herself into the room. 

“Rach?” Finn’s voice was weak and raspy, one hand outstretched toward her.

“Finn?” she breathed, her voice an equally broken whisper, her eyes swimming in unshed tears.

At the sight of her tears, he made another attempt at sitting up, but his mother stopped him again. 

“Finn, you have too many crucial monitors connected and you cannot be jostling around. Remember what I said, you’ve had two major surgeries on your heart now and you have to take it easy. This is non-negotiable; I’ll have the nurse knock you back out if you don’t stay still and calm.”

He nodded absently without tearing his gaze from Rachel. In his weakened state, he didn’t have the energy to fight her anyway. Frustrated by his shortness of breath, he waved his still outstretched hand in a semicircle. “C’mere Rach, come closer baby, please?” 

The moment she was within his reach, their hands locked together tightly. Rachel was still tethered to her IV, so Carole helped her out of the wheelchair and gently guided her to perch on the side of Finn’s bed. Finn grimaced as he scooted over a little to make room for her while tugging Rachel’s hand as an invitation to lay down next to him. 

Carole sighed, realizing what Finn wanted. Rather than argue, she adjusted all the IV lines and made sure none of his monitors would be disturbed while Rachel got settled on the bed beside him.

“You two need to be very still. This is probably breaking at least a hundred hospital policies....” she muttered, trailing off as tears welled in her eyes. The sight of the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms, both now silently weeping– it undid her.

“I’ll give you two a few minutes. I’ll be right outside the door if you need me,” she whispered to her oblivious audience.

. . . . .

“I thought you were gone,” Rachel whispered, tracing the three prominent freckles on his cheek.

“Same,” he croaked. “I thought I was too late.” He pressed a kiss on her forehead, letting his lips linger there.

“But you weren’t. You… you saved me.”

“I did what I had to… and I’d do it again.”

“Finn? Do you remember last night? When you woke up for just a moment...”

He searched her face intently. “Did I? I wasn’t sure if that was a dream or a memory... but you were here though, weren’t you? It wasn’t a dream...”

She nodded. “You spoke to me before you slipped away.”

“Forever yours,” he murmured with his lips still pressed to her forehead. She gulped and her tears returned full force. 

Finn brushed a hand up and down her arm soothingly, letting her expel her emotions.

After a long pause, Rachel choked out, “I still can’t believe...you– you saved me, Finn. I owe you my life.”

“Nope,” he said softly. “I saved mine – because you are my life, Rachel. I owe you. I owe you so much...” His voice cracked, thick with tears that he didn’t bother trying to hide. 

“Jesus, Rach, I thought I lost you for a minute and I wanted to just–” he cut himself off, unable to speak it out loud. In his head he knew, living in a world without her wasn’t an option. He ghosted a hand over her arm and up to her chin and gently cupped her face. “Let me see you,” he whispered, tilting her chin up. “Let me see that beautiful face. That bastard. He hurt you so bad... I swear I’m gonna--” 

“He’s gone Finn. David. He… he’s gone.”

Finn swallowed thickly, letting that idea sink into his bones. “So he did it huh? I don’t know… I know he was serious when he said he would, but… I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“Me neither. I’m… I think I’m mostly relieved though. Just because… I’m not sure I could sleep knowing he was still out there. After he… he killed Jacob, Finn. Right in front of me. And he said he was going to do the same to you, and I couldn’t let—” her words were increasingly hard to follow as she crumbled into hysterics.

“Baby… shhh… he didn’t, okay? We’re here. I’m here. You’re here… And I swear, as long as there’s breath in me, nobody’s ever laying a hand on you again.”

He softly kissed over her bruised, tear coated cheekbone and the butterfly bandages over the cuts he could see. She began to calm under his gentle touches and his eyes traced down the line of neck, inspecting every inch of her skin.

When he saw the gauze poking up from the neckline of her hospital gown, he gently traced his index finger along the edge of it. “What’s this?”

“Your bullet,” she sobbed. “It went through you... and stopped right here.” She held his hand gently against her chest, careful not to press down on her incision site. 

He was silent for a long beat, then shrugged a little. “Sounds fair. After all, you did the same thing to me last year,” he said with a crooked grin. He pulled one of her hands up to his own chest. “But your Rachel bullet’s still in there. It’s been stuck in there ever since Virgin Cosmos.”

Her quiet tears became full-body sobs. He shushed her and did his best to pull her even closer, despite the tangle of wires and IVs. He let her cry, holding her while she hiccupped, “I thought you died in my arms, F-Finn. I th-thought I’d never get the chance to fix anything, or, or t-to tell you–”

“Rachel shhh... you don’t have to say anything. I already know. I know. And I felt the same thing.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “We’re okay now, you and me. Okay? We just are. I love you and I’m never letting you go again.” 

She nodded and he tilted her chin up to reach her lips, pressing a soft chaste kiss that lingered. 

Rachel pressed a hand to his jaw as he cupped hers, and they laid that way in silence amid the gentle hum and soft beeps of the machines in the room, their teary-eyed gazes locked on one another. 

. . . . .

Just outside the room, Carole peeked through the window, silent tears sliding down her cheeks at the sight of them. 

Burt stepped behind her and gently massaged her shoulders whispering, “They’re okay in there like that, right?”

Nodding, she whispered back, “They’re more than okay. Look at them, honey... they’re in love.”

Burt wrapped both arms tightly around her waist and buried his face in the crook of his wife’s neck. “Yep, I know the feeling.” 

Carole folded her arms over her husband’s, and they swayed a little to a song only they could hear, sighing contently as they continued watching over the teens. Part of her wished she could preserve them in time just like this, so young and in love and full of hope. 

Whatever challenges tomorrow might bring, it was clear to Carole that Finn and Rachel’s journey had already begun, marching to their own unique beat. And she wouldn’t want it any other way.

. . . . .

~F❤️R~