The final chapter! I know it's not what some of you were hoping for in reviews, but I hope it's enough to satisfy you. There's a note the end of the chapter, so if you're interest in a little extra info, you can read it. But no further delays!

-x-x-x-

Part VI – Exhale.

He had never put much stock in Finn's level of reliability. Sure, there was a time when he had desperately wanted Finn to love him back with an intensity that matched his own, but that love had eventually faded to a more brotherly affection. And soon, he lost interest in Finn romantically. After that, all it took was a few misses: Finn calling him a nasty name; Finn telling him that he would ruin Sam's reputation if he sang a duet with him; Finn conveniently being late to the locker room when the other Glee guys had confronted Karofsky. Finn had been too afraid to really be his brother.

But Kurt hadn't really minded. He had accepted it about Finn, and while it sometimes weighed more heavily on him, it was just who Finn was. He cared about his reputation as much as Kurt cared about his outfit matching. And it wasn't like he was never there for him, if the Lady Gaga incident was anything to shout about.

So upon waking up the afternoon following the accident, Kurt hadn't expected to find Finn sitting there, leaning over the bed and clutching his left hand. Kurt blinked at him for a few minutes, silent and watching as Finn stared toward the window. Then he moaned a bit, and Finn's eyes snapped toward him, hopeful.

"... Kurt! You're awake," he gasped, relief flooding his facial features. The soprano knew he didn't have the strength to speak, and so resigned himself to nodding a bit. Finn looked so genuinely happy to see those greenish-blue eyes that for a moment, he just sat there, grinning like an idiot.

"Your dad is fine," he said suddenly, answering the silent expression of concern on Kurt's face. It was hard to move his eyebrows with the large patch of gauze that was wrapped against his forehead, but he managed to lift them at the news.

"He, um. He has a broken leg, but that's the worst of it. He's awake and worried about you."

Kurt opened his mouth, feeling a thin gasp of air escape through his swollen throat as he tried to speak. Closing his eyes, he drew in a careful breath and tried again.

"Where?" His whisper was crushed, and paper-thin. It was too difficult to talk, and Finn could see that.

"He's in his own room. They said they'll move you there once they're sure you've recovered from the surgery."

Kurt looked at him a moment longer, his face concerned and confused before he turned his head around toward the window. Finn leaned forward a bit, brushing some of Kurt's soft brown hair out of the way of the bandage on his forehead. He figured Kurt would do so if he could lift his arms. After all, no hair should be out of place, no matter the circumstance. Right?

"I texted Rachael about what happened. She promised to keep it quiet until I called her, so... Is it alright if I tell her you're okay? So everyone at Glee club will know?"

Kurt looked back toward him, blinking slowly. Then, with some effort, he inhaled to speak.

"Am I okay?"

Finn looked at him, a little surprised. "Well... Yeah. I mean, you'll be fine. Are you in pain?"

Kurt shook his head some.

"Okay. Good. Yeah, no, you're fine. You'll be just fine."

His repetitive, nervous speech brought a very small smile to Kurt's face. Finn was still Finn. It couldn't be that bad, then, could it? If Finn was collected enough to be scattered and confused like he normally is, than surely the situation couldn't be that dire. Kurt closed his eyes, ignoring Finn when he asked why he was smiling. Sleep crept in on him again, gentle and comforting.

He was alright. His dad was fine. The nightmare was over.

-x-x-x-

His hand tugged absently at the Velcro of his black knee brace. Slowly, he would tear off, than tighten it, and wrap it back on. Tear, tighten, wrap. Again and again, until finally, Finn looked over at him.

"That's the most annoying sound in the world."

"Honey, shush." From the front seat, Carole glanced back at her son and shook her head, radiating a warning look. Finn moved to say something before stopping himself, glancing back toward Kurt.

It was the first "long" car ride he'd had since the accident. He had been silent except for the occasional "I'm okay," when his father would look around from the passenger's seat and ask how he was doing.

Burt didn't appear to be nervous. My business is cars, he had said upon climbing into the SUV, glancing back over the seats at Finn put his crutches in the back. I'll be fine. But his son, who had experienced a more exaggerated hell than he had, hadn't said much of anything. He just looked out the window and monitored his breathing.

Finn swallowed. He had forgotten, momentarily, about the assumed fragility of Kurt's mental state. For a moment, he was worried that he had ruined everything, but Kurt just looked out the window, unaffected. He stopped fussing the Velcro.

It was a clear day. There were plenty of cars rolling around, and people walking, and sunlight splashing down through the leaves of the trees above. It was the perfect day for the Hummel-Hudson family to attend a concert in the park, and the other members of New Directions would be there waiting.

Kurt sighed. When Mercedes had arrived at the door of his hospital room, her face was a bizarre hybrid of anger and unholy relief. Goddamn, white boy, don't you ever do anything like that ever again or so help me-

She had smothered him until the nurse shooed her home. The day after that, the rest of New Directions filed over the course of a few hours. Blaine had come, driving in from Dalton to see him. Drive carefully, Kurt had added on the end of his phone conversation with him, laughing morbidly at his own joke. Blaine hadn't thought it was that funny.

It had been a month already, though. His physical therapy was going far better than they had anticipated. And while no one should have to relearn how to walk, his instructor had said he was a natural. Perhaps all that strutting down an imaginary catwalk in his room as a child had paid off.

But his knee still ached, and his hip still tingles sometimes. He had a brace on his right elbow, just a little metal-free wrap that matched the one around his knee. He had been so disappointed when he found that they only made them in black and an ugly tan color. So black it was, because he had more to match them. But he hated them anyway.

His forehead was another story. The stitches had come out only a week prior. Minimal scarring, they had said. The little pink line laughed back at them, swirling just under his hairline to the right of his forehead. He would need more coverup than Ellen Degeneres could sell.

"We're here," Carole's voice announced, muffled through his thoughts. He glanced away from the window with glazed eyes, lost in a daydream until Finn's hand pressed against his shoulder. Without thought, his lips curled into a thin smile, and he unbuckled his seat belt.

Brittany and Tina were somewhere outside, smiling at him when his knee-high converse hit the gravel parking lot. Kurt smiled at them, struggling to shake off the nervousness from being in the car. Their greetings were emphasized by their attempt at hooking arms with him and leading him away from the car, but before they could be off, someone cleared their throat behind them.

Kurt turned. His father smiled back, a strained grin that said I need to speak to you in private first. Kurt gave the two girls a nod before twisting around toward Burt, who gave a more genuine grin.

"You sure you're okay? We still have to drive home afterwards."

Kurt looked down at his toes for a minute, refusing to look at his knee brace. "Yeah, I'm fine. It'll be harder on the way home, though..."

"Because it'll be dark," Burt nodded, glancing up at the sky. "But it's not now."

"Nope."

They shared a silence. Kurt was about to ask if he could go when he felt his father's arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug. The soprano tensed for a brief moment before relaxing, hugging the man back.

"I'm so proud of you, Kurt."

The distant, annoying urge to cry welled in the pit of his stomach, but Kurt denied it with a quick breath. Closing his eyes, he hugged his dad a bit tighter before they parted.

"Thanks, dad," he muttered, smiling. They turned away from the car, toward a small crowd that was gathering before a cement stage. Burt with his crutches, and Kurt with his knee brace.

Both limping, both alive.

-x-x-x-

Finished!

Thank you all so much for all the feedback and interest! I really appreciate every single alert, fav, and review.

Note: There may be another story that is sort of a sequel this. If it happens, it'll pick up a month or so later with it's own plot, but this will have happened. If I can bring myself to write it, of course. Otherwise, I'll definitely be posting other fics in the future! I hope to see you guys again!