A/N: Send some warm thoughts to my professor who let class end early today, otherwise I wouldn't have written this chapter now. I'm messing up the update schedule here, but I didn't want to wait with uploading. Only one or maybe two chapters left on this story, probably, unless I decide to write an alternate ending. Hope you like this chapter.

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Maybe Carol insisted on picking Finn up from his football practices a little too often, but she always did her best to do it subtly. She was just on her way home from work, did he want to come along? Wouldn't make sense to waste gas by going separately, right? Finn didn't appear to have looked through that strategy, and she was glad about that.

Intellectually she knew she was being silly. Finn had been driving for a while now, and he'd much improved as a driver, but the mail man incident still made her nervous somehow. Someday she was going to have to get a little more relaxed with the issue and stop worrying whenever he was driving around, but as long as he didn't complain about getting free rides home, she would keep it up.

She did trust her son. Really. But sometimes she just couldn't stop herself from worrying.

But Finn was being good natured about it, even if she had the suspicion that he knew she was doing this on purpose. Which might have something to do with the fact that she'd brought donut for the two of them. She knew Kurt wouldn't approve, but it was only for the two of them so Burt would never consume the cholesterol and her step son would never need to be informed of their little transgression.

"These are really good", Finn said while chewing, and she should probably tell him not to eat with his mouth full, but whenever he did that he didn't seem like Frankenteen the incredibly tall quarterback but more like her little boy, and she found it adorable. "We should find a way to sneak them past Kurt more often. Burt would like that, too", he mused.

"Kurt has a point, though. I don't want anything to happen to Burt, and if that means we all have to cut back on the unhealthy delicacies so he doesn't feel bad, I don't think it's such a bad thing."

Immediately Finn looked guilty. "Well, yeah, I just… like donuts."

Carole laughed at the reasoning. "I know, and I think a little indulgence now and then is perfectly fine, otherwise I wouldn't have bought these. Still, don't tell Burt, he'd be sad that he didn't get any."

"Deal. Sure wouldn't mind it if you had this idea more often, though."

"Well this time it was just my craving, next time I'll come up with a good blackmailing plan."

"That's not fair", Finn protested.

"You can always buy donuts for your own money, you know", she hinted, and he just mumbled something about Call of Duty and crossed his arms. Paying for pizza or McDonald's on his own was perfectly fine, but everything else was apparently not in his budget.

Carole laughed again, and told Finn to get himself another donut.

She was in a good mood. Kurt was coming back from his competition, where he'd apparently done very well, and the two of them had made a pact to make spectacular dinner this night or the next. Thinking about the donuts she just had, it would probably be better to have the big dinner next evening, but then again, there was never really too much food for Finn, and Burt and Kurt hadn't had any of the donuts.

When the news came on the radio she just switched the station, missing the news about a plane crashing on the way to Columbus completely.

As they pulled into the driveway she could see Burt's truck was already there, and she smiled at the thought of having her whole family there this afternoon. With Dalton and everything and Finn usually busy after school it was difficult to get them all to spend time together regularly, so she cherished that even more.

She and Finn had been half a family for long enough. She was allowed to get enthusiastic about their new life.

When she came to a stop and turned off the engine, Finn went to throw the empty box of donuts away immediately, so that there was no evidence. She went up the front steps and unlocked the door.

She had planned on holding it open for Finn, but when she spotted Burt sitting on the floor in the hallway next to the phone with tears streaming down his face and completely heartbreaking look she completely forgot.

The door fell closed behind her, and Burt looked up. He blinked a few times, but didn't say anything to her. He looked terrible. That was the only word for it.

"Burt, what's wrong?", she asked, kneeling down next to him. "What happened?"

Burt opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He swallowed hard, but it didn't stop his crying.

"What happened?", she asked again, and looked around to see if there was indication what was wrong. He still didn't say anything, and something occurred to her. Wasn't he supposed to pick up Kurt from the airport earlier today? Suddenly she had a very bad sinking feeling in her stomach and was almost afraid to ask the next question.

"Where's Kurt?" She was praying that the answer was something mundane, had gone to see a friend or her was just upstairs, or… the look on Burt's face told her what she didn't want to know.

"P… plane crash. He's… he's…" Burt was obviously choking on the next word, but Carole couldn't even begin to help him with that. Because if it was the one that was floating around the back of her head in just that moment, then she honestly didn't want to hear it.

"He's dead", Burt finally whispered in a broken voice, and looked down.

She just sat there with her mouth open, completely unable to form a coherent thought. The right thing to do was try to comfort him somehow, telling him… what, exactly?

Because there was nothing to say. Nothing she could say that would make either of them feel bette, nothing that could be done to make anything okay.

"Are… are you sure, maybe someone screwed up and he didn't… maybe…"

Burt just looked at her, saying nothing.

"Oh god…", she whispered.

Just then the door was opened, and she heard Finn enter.

"Hey mom…" he started calling before he noticed the two of them sitting on the floor. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Carole looked at Burt, and it looked like he was drained from just saying it once, so she would probably have to… even though it hadn't quite arrived in her brain just yet, and she felt lost at the concept itself, without really knowing how to say it.

Burt just reached to the phone next to him and pushed a button to play the last message.

Kurt's voice started coming out of the speaker, and for a moment it seemed as though everything was okay, normal, but then… Carole listened transfixed, and knowing what the result was she had to bite back a sob.

When the message stopped Finn stared at both the adults. "But… he's… I mean he's okay, right?"

Carole just shook her head, because she could feel the tears starting to make their way down her cheek and she didn't know if her words wouldn't fail her.

The Hummel Hudson house was incredibly quiet the rest of the day.

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"Did you hear about that plane crash?", Tina asked as they were sitting in the choir room, waiting for glee rehearsal to begin.

"Yeah, they have no idea what happened. I mean, a plane doesn't just drop, who knows what actually went down…" Mike said. "So much for being statistically safe."

Mercedes hadn't heard about the crash yet, because she'd been late that morning and hadn't had time to catch the news. "Plane crash? Really?"

"Yeah, yesterday, not so far from here, somewhere in Ohio. Most people survived, but nineteen were killed", Tina explained.

"How many people were on the plane?", Mercedes wanted to know.

"Around a hundred. So I guess nineteen is not so bad for a plane crash but still… makes you think twice about wanting to fly to Europe", Tina said with a shudder.

"And they didn't say how many are injured. That can be bad enough", Artie said. After all, he had his experiences with the fact that surviving an accident wasn't all fun, either. "I heard some speculation it was the pilot's fault, but I don't know if that's true."

"I just feel terrible for all these people", Tina said. "I mean sure, nineteen's not that many, but still…"

While she was saying that Finn came in, and sat down on the far side of the room. The others didn't notice him right away, because he was very quiet and didn't look at anybody directly.

"Maybe it was terrorists", Puck suggested.

"They said they were sure it wasn't", Tina said. "Guess that's the first thing they talked about."

"Besides, what kind of point is making a small commuter plane crash supposed to make?", Artie asked.

"Terrorists want to make airport people grope little kids", Brittany said as if it was the most normal conclusion in the world. Everyone looked at her, for once impressed that she'd picked up something from the news, albeit vaguely.

Rachel was looking over at Finn, who was just staring at the ground, sometimes looking up at everyone else and swallowing. At further scrutiny he didn't look fine at all. For a moment she wasn't sure what to do. They weren't together anymore, and they'd barely been speaking these last few weeks, but…

Something was off.

"Finn? Is everything okay?", she asked, which made the others look up and notice that Finn was indeed looking quite pale and had dark rings under his eyes.

He didn't say anything for a moment, looking at them worried, but then he looked away again and said quietly, "Kurt was on that plane."

"What? Oh my god, is he okay?", Tina asked, while most everyone else just stared at Finn. Finn just shook his head slowly, still looking at the floor in front of him.

"Is… is he hurt… or in a coma?", Tina asked tentatively and was already dreading the answer.

Finn shook his head again. "He's… one of those nineteen people", he said, unable to say the word.

The choir room had never been that quiet before. For a moment no one said anything, could even think of what to say to that.

"Are… are you sure?", Mercedes finally asked with a voice that belied that she was close to tears. "Maybe it was someone else, maybe he didn't catch the plane, or…"

"He left a voicemail." Finn paused, trying to sort through his thoughts. "And… he was talking to one of his friends from Dalton when… pretty sure it was him."

Nobody said anything for a moment, but then Mr. Schue entered the room.

"Holla classe", he said cheerfully as he came through the door. Looking at them, he added, "Hey, what's up? You guys look as if someone just died."

If there was ever a time to use that phrase.

Rachel got up, and started walking towards the other door. "I don't think we can sing today, Mr. Schue." And with that she left the room, leaving one confused educator behind.

"Did I say something…", Mr Schue started asking. "Wait, did someone actually die?" He hadn't expected several members of the club to nod. "Oh my god, who?"

"Kurt", Tina said, and then started crying into Mike's shoulder, while Mercedes flinched at the name. She looked as if she hadn't even noticed Mr. Schue coming in, too stunned to even see anything right in front of her.

That day no one was singing in the choir room.

It didn't take long for the news to spread all over the school, and the reactions were… mixed. Most people said something along the lines of "oh that's so sad" and had almost forgotten about it by lunch break, others were real shocked, or starting into a rant about flight safety and how more money should be spent on maintaining safe planes than on making sure no one took water on a flight.

There were of course the people who'd started many of their days for years throwing Hummel into a dumpster.

And their jokes really weren't funny.

Dave Karofsky knew that it was better for his status to just laugh along and maybe add some of his own, but he just really couldn't find it in him to laugh about this. Sure, joy at the misfortune of others was one of his favorite emotions, but this was different. This was real, not a part of high school pranks and hierarchy.

Someone was actually dead. And not just anyone. Someone who had left the school because he'd been afraid that Dave was going to actually murder him.

Back when he'd made the threat he hadn't thought about it too much, too terrified of anyone finding out what he'd done, and trying desperately to distance himself. 'I'll kill you' was just a phrase, but now he almost felt sick at the thought that he'd said that, and Kurt had believed it.

Because now that it was reality Dave became acutely aware of the fact that even if Hummel had spilled every single one of his secrets (including ones he couldn't even possibly know about) that he never would have done it. Maybe roughed him up, sure, but not…

There was a line. He'd never really been aware of it before, but he knew that joking about how someone had died was crossing it. Still, he didn't say anything to the other to stop them. He didn't want to risk his reputation by defending Hummel.

And he knew that that was ridiculous. Someone had actually died and instead of doing the right thing and paying him some respect, Dave was too afraid to lose his reputation.

If someone made a novel out of his life, he was pretty sure he'd never be the hero.

Hummel had been someone who could've been the hero. Because while Dave felt the need to hide behind every facade he could find, Kurt had always shown who he was, proudly and without fear of the consequences. Wearing ever more ridiculous things just to show them they couldn't really do anything to him that would last.

And in that desperate moment in the locker room Dave had wanted to have that to. That sense of self, that pride, and he'd wanted to know if those feelings he'd been having, and trying to ignore, if just maybe…

Now Hummel was gone and Dave was left with the unpleasant chance to take a good look at himself. He did not like what he was seeing, and yet… he had no idea how to get out of the mold he'd made for himself. He still wasn't sure about maybe being… but even if he were, he'd never be able to tell anyone.

Or maybe he should. Maybe he should learn his lesson now and try to be a better person and not just go along with everything people were expecting him to.

Being a better person was hard, though. Going along with the crowd was easy.

Whatever he'd do, he knew it wasn't a decision he'd make all that quickly.

He saw Hudson walking down the hallway looking like crap. Most of the glee people did, really. He was looking into his locker and seemed not to even notice that anything was in there.

Dave walked up to him before he could talk himself out of it.

"Hey man", he said, with his hands in his jacket pocket. Hudson looked up, a wary look on his face.

"I'm sorry", Dave said. What he was sorry for… offering condolences or trying to make amends… it didn't really matter all that much. Finn kept looking at him weirdly, but then he just gave a short nod, and Dave turned to leave.

Something had made Finn believe him. Maybe there was some hope there for him.

Maybe.

Santana hadn't really talked to Brittany about what had happened, because she didn't really know how the blonde would view this, and what could be said that wouldn't make it worse. They were best friends, but sometimes even Santana found Brit completely unpredictable.

But when she got a frantic call one afternoon a few days after they'd been told about what happened, she got to Brit's house in record time. Brittany's mom sent Santana straight upstairs, looking quite chipper. Apparently she hadn't noticed her daughter was having a crisis.

Santana walked up the stairs and pushed open the door. "Brit?"

She found her sitting in the middle of what seemed to be an explosion of clothes, sobbing, clutching a piece of paper. No, it was a card, apparently.

"Brit what's wrong?"

"I don't know what to wear", the blonde said and turned her tear streaked towards her best friend.

"Uh…" well that wasn't quite the sort of crisis she'd expected. "Cheerios uniform?"

"No, that's wrong", Brit said loudly and punched one of her hands into the pile of clothes she was sitting on.

"Well, what do you need to wear it to?" Santana asked cautiously.

"To…" Brit started but then stopped, and just held out the card she'd been clutching. Santana looked at it, but it took a moment for her to register.

Funeral.

Oh.

It was an invitation to Kurt's funeral. Santana hadn't even really thought about that before, and it made her breath hitch in her throat for a moment, not that she'd ever admit it to anybody.

Then one sentence caught her attention and explained the whole crisis Brit had been having.

Wear something Kurt would consider fabulous.

"Oh. Well okay, we can look through your clothes, I'm sure there's…"

"But how do we know? When we stopped dating, I asked Kurt if we could still be friends even if he was a dolphin, and he'd help me pick clothes and facials, and he said he'd always make me look fabulous." Brittany paused for a moment, and took a deep breath.

"He's the one who tells me when something is fabulous, and I need to ask him, but I can't. And I can't ask him anything anymore, and it doesn't make any sense, he was fine, and I was talking to him, and now he's not there anymore, and I don't understand."

She wiped some tears away from her face and then added more quietly. "I don't want to understand."

"It's… he's…", Santana started to say, because she usually explained everything to Brittany. But this… of course she knew what had happened, and what it meant, but how it could happen, why… she didn't understand either.

"What if I pick the wrong thing? Kurt says I can look fabulous, but I don't know what's fabulous and what isn't. I need him here to tell me."

Santana could probably try to help out with her fashion sense, pick something and say he'd like it, but that wasn't the point, not really. It wasn't about the clothes.

She really wasn't prone to crying unless she was drunk, and while it had gotten her down she hadn't cried yet about this whole thing, but now, looking at Brittany dissolving into a sobbing mess in front of her and thinking of her own closet, and realizing she didn't really know what would be fabulous enough, either, she felt a lump at the back of her throat, too.

But she was here for Brittany. So she sat down next to her, and wrapped her in a fierce hug, letting her cry, and trying to comfort her.

But there really wasn't anything to say.