(Author's note: no warnings for this chapter, other than some light making out and angst. The Darren described in the third scene was in the Glee pilot. Thanks to Flynn for writing Lydia. This is the last chapter - more notes at the end. -amy)

Lauren's F-150 ground to a halt on the shoulder beside the construction site. She surveyed the site with an approving nod. "It's coming along."

"I know." Sarah grinned back. "Isn't it weird to see something we drew coming to life?"

Lauren leaned one elbow on the open window. "That's kind of a programmer's thing, though. Not physically, granted, but you get used to being able to control your environment when you learn how to code. So when's she showing up?"

"She said around three." She climbed down from Lauren's enormous truck. It was so tall that she literally had to hop down from the running board to the gravel below.

"And Mr. Hummel's cool with you just taking off to Iowa from here?"

Sarah shrugged. "I already said bye to everybody. I've got everything with me." She patted the backpack at her feet.

"We've got to get you a laptop," Lauren muttered. "You said you think you'd have access to a computer while you're there?"

"I bet Alec can set me up with something. Tess made it really clear that we just have to ask, but at the time, I couldn't think of anything to ask for." She snickered. "Did I tell you about the tattoos the guys got over Valentine's Day?"

Lauren shook her head. "It's still fucking with my head that you know Mistress Tess."

She offered Sarah a piece of gum. They both chewed thoughtfully, gazing across the dashboard at the slab form boards in place on the building site.

"She kind of adopted my brother," said Sarah.

Lauren gave her a side-eye look. "You know it's not exactly like that. Right? Kurt and Finn told me you get what's going on with them."

"Yeah, I think I get it. Noah and Finn have been like this as long they've been friends, but things definitely changed when they started doing sex stuff in November."

"That wasn't too weird for you?"

"No way," Sarah said. "It was totally what he needed. A while before that, he started being an asshole to everybody except me, but I had no idea how to stop him. And then Kurt showed up, and basically fixed him."

"I take it you don't mean fixed like a puppy."

She snorted, nudging Lauren's arm. "Like the opposite of that kind of fixed."

"Just checking. That's a kink too." Lauren looked thoughtful. "So... Finn, and Kurt. And Mistress Tess is handling him too?"

"And Adam." Sarah paused, frowning. "Shit. I think I used the wrong name."

"Adam's the guy who's with him at Tessera? His other Top — the one who has the new slave?"

"Kurt told you that?" Sarah looked impressed. "He must trust you. Yeah, he's there. Seriously, Noah needs every one of them to deal with his shit."

"He's a sub?"

She laughed. "He's a brat."

"Ahhhh." Lauren nodded understanding. "That makes total sense. Not my thing, but I get it."

"So what is your thing?" Sarah just looked interested, not confused or worried or anything.

"I'm not sure how much I can talk about my thing with a kid." Lauren laughed at Sarah's expression. "Hey, give me a break. I'm supposed to be a good influence on you."

"Dude," Sarah said, clearly offended. "You don't need to dumb it down for me. Just because I haven't done it doesn't mean I don't know about it."

"Yeah, okay." She considered Sarah. "My thing is pain. Causing, not receiving. The ouchier the better."

"I think I get that," Sarah said. "This one time, the whip marks on Finn's back took a week to fade, and—"

"Okay, that's just hilarious." Lauren was laughing. "You're telling me Finn Hudson gets worked over with a whip? Regularly enough for there to be this one time?"

"His boyfriend — his other boyfriend — he's, like, really super good at it," she said earnestly. "He can hit Jenga blocks off a tower, one at a time, without knocking the others over."

Lauren stared at her. "Now you're going to tell me Carl Howell is his boyfriend."

Sarah stared back, her eyes wide. "Uh — I wasn't going to tell you that, no."

"Fuck," Lauren said. "Okay, for future reference? If you're trying not to tell somebody about Carl, don't mention the whip. Because he's apparently better at it than anybody else. As in he's been the US precision target and accuracy champion for years running." She paused. "But, okay, I can see it. Carl is super hot."

Sarah made a face. "Yuck."

"See, this is an example of having a type. I admire his talent. Also his arms. What about you? Do you have a type?"

"Maybe. Tall, definitely. Nice eyes, and nice smile are both important." She was blushing. "I have no idea. I've never even had a real kiss. Not one that counted."

"Kissing's overrated," Lauren said dismissively. "There's way more things better than kissing. Is it three yet?"

"In ten minutes." Sarah was quiet again. "I kissed some guys at parties. And two girls."

"And?"

"So far, yeah, it's overrated."

"See, what'd I tell you? What a waste to spend time worrying about that shit. It's either awesome or it's lame. In the meantime, there's tons of reliably awesome things to be doing."

Sarah cocked her head. "Like?"

"Like taking a road trip." Lauren grinned at her. "You'll have to tell me all about it when you get home."

The truck idled smoothly, and Lydia sat with her eyes closed taking breath after breath before she turned onto Ohio route 309, headed for Lima and her next rescue. The horse in her trailer was in worse shape than she'd expected: raggedy, thin and demoralized. Though she should be thanking her stars that he was as depressed as he was. He was easy as pie to handle, despite flinching when taking oats from her hand.

She wanted to keep off the major highways until she was sure how the horse handled being on the road. It would only take her a half hour to reach the Hummel construction site and could check on him. She usually preferred to drive with the radio on, but today she had to listen for any signs of distress from her passenger. She scowled again, thinking of how skinny he was - he weighed a quarter less than what he ought to, and his coat was a mess.

Lydia spent the rest of the drive using breathing exercises, and then once she was off the highway, her focus was on not getting lost. Doing that while driving an F250 with a sweet slant load trailer — one of the perks of her job, now that the horses were part of the country club — would not be a good idea. Tess had asked her point blank to identify three grades of the best equipment out there - basic, comfort, and luxury - and to her surprise, the comfort had been what the budget had allowed. The truck and the trailer both had the stylized Tessera T on the sides, loud and proud in blues and greens.

She was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to navigate to the house, and she brought the trailer to a stop smoothly along the shoulder, hopping down from the big truck. She glanced inside, but her new friend appeared to be dozing, a wisp of hay hanging from his mouth. Good. That done, she strode up the driveway, trying to puzzle out where Sarah might be. The site didn't look to have construction workers, and there was just a single truck in the driveway.

"Lydia!" She saw Sarah appear from behind a stand of trees on the far edge of the property, waving excitedly. She was accompanied by a tall, broad shouldered teenager dressed in black wearing heavy rimmed glasses, with a cat's eye swoop that Lydia hadn't seen since the seventies. The look she gave Lydia was definitely appraising, if not suspicious.

Lydia grinned. "You here all by yourselves? I don't get to say hi to the rest of the family?"

"Carole's at work today. It was either that or work on Memorial Day, and I just told her to go ahead. I'll be back in a few weeks, anyway." Sarah didn't sound worried. "We could go back and see Tatenui, if you want?"

Lydia blinked, but smiled again. "Only if you want to, Sarah. What about all your brothers?"

She bounced on her toes. "They're fine. I just want to get down there and see Noah. It's been over a month."

"Well, I'm that glad to have a reliable hand with me for the trip back. I'll let you and your friend peek through the window at him, but he's in pretty rough shape, kiddo."

While Sarah climbed up on the bumper of the trailer to murmur sweet words at the horse inside, the older girl approached Lydia.

"She told me a lot about you. And the horses." She eyed the trailer dubiously. "I really don't get that."

Lydia laughed a bit. "Well, the horses have been my life, you see. I was Army, with the cavalry - and yes, we still have one. I'm retired now, but I sure wasn't ready to quit working." She considered the girl. "Sarah's a little distracted by my rescue there, so I'm lacking a little for an introduction here."

The girl nodded, looking satisfied, and held out her hand. "I'm Lauren. Sarah's mentor, I guess, in school."

"Nice to put a name to a face then. So this is the house the two of you created." Lydia looked across at the construction, shading her eyes against the sun. "Impressive piece of work!"

"I just taught her what to do with the CAD," Lauren said. "Sarah did most of the actual design. It's seriously the weirdest house I've ever seen."

"Takes a lot of discipline to teach a young one like that. Weird or not, I'm impressed."

Lauren looked like she was suppressing a smile. They watched Sarah poke a piece of hay in through the trailer window, trying to entice the horse to notice her. "I don't think Sarah listens to too many people, you know? But she listened to me."

"I do know," Lydia said soberly. "And there's something to be said for that, Lauren. I promise you, we won't let her run wild at Tessera - she'll have more freedom than she's used to, likely, but there's always eyes on out there. I really do need her help with my critter in the wagon there." She jerked a thumb at the trailer.

"Yeah." Lauren was silent for a few moments, still watching Sarah. "I don't know how much freedom's going to be good for her. From what she's told me, she's had a little too much of that. As far as I'm concerned, I think she could use a little more of what Tessera could offer her." She glanced over at Lydia. "She knows what's going on with her brother, and so do I."

Lydia didn't react, though she felt a little startled. "Excellent. Always better to be plain and clear. And I wouldn't worry. Tess isn't going to take temporary custody of an eleven year old lightly, and neither am I. There's a whole village out at Tessera, if you know the saying. She'll get our best; Lord knows she deserves it."

The smile Lauren gave her looked genuine. "Yeah, I can't say I would agree with you on that point about most people deserving the best, but Sarah's definitely one of them who does. To tell you the truth, I don't trust a village to do diddly-squat for most kids."

"Tessera ain't your average village, Lauren." Lydia was more serious now, looking at the girl more closely, weighing and evaluating the way she carried herself, the way she spoke. She'd be a force of nature someday, but she sure wasn't grown, not yet.

"So I've heard." Lauren sounded envious. "My Domme is friends with somebody who's spent some time there."

Lydia nodded thoughtfully, evaluating the likely possibilities in her head. Well, she wasn't going to tip her hand, not here. "Sarah have baggage with her?"

"Just her backpack." Lauren's lip twitched. "I don't think her baggage is all that visible."

"The worst of it never is." She pushed off the Tessera truck where she'd been leaning. The girl was taller and bigger than she was, but Lydia hadn't been at this for decades and raised a pair of twins to boot for nothing. "You think what's in that backpack is enough for an eleven year old for a couple of weeks?"

Lauren looked serious. "I actually think that's most of what she owns. I've seen her wear that skirt she's got on more than three times this year. Not that clothes matter, but... sometimes things do."

Lydia nodded. "I've got my own babies - they're out of the nest now. But that amount of clothing isn't going to cut it. You're her mentor. Do I stop somewhere and take her shopping, or do I just fill the dresser at Tessera?" Her voice was low, and she was unable to keep the urgency from it. Sarah had glanced 'round the end of the trailer at her, and Lydia knew they didn't have much longer to finish the conversation.

"Well, she's got Kurt there at home. I bet he's got enough clothes to fill all their closets. I've got to assume he's going to make sure that her fashion needs are taken care of."

Lydia chuckled. "I believe you on the first, but I think we might just take steps to be sure of the second."

"I don't think she'd object." Lauren's voice dropped to a quiet murmur. "She doesn't really ask for things."

"I'll see that we stop on the way, make sure she's got some sturdy basics - no, don't shake your head. I can put her in jeans and plain colored t-shirts, clothes to wear to take care of my new friend in the trailer, here, and Kurt can worry about details. And she'll need proper shoes and boots." Lydia squinted at the scuffed and torn toe of the sneaker that was just visible around the back of the trailer. "Those don't carry enough of a heel for riding, and the detailing would be a bitch to black every day. She won't be having anybody doing that for her, not at her age."

Lauren coughed. "Uh, no. She's eleven."

"Yes," Lydia said, relenting. "Ok. Look here. I'll take care of her from start to finish, and then some. I miss my kids, but not enough to smother her."

"Yeah, I don't think she would stay in one place long enough to let anybody do that. If you can get her to promise not to run away, I'd call it a win."

Lydia gave the girl a full on smirk. "We've got that covered out there. And collectively, we'll give her something to stay focused on. The horses'll manage that one for us nicely enough. Got a baby foal out there, not more'n three months old. Pretty cute, and pretty needy."

"Peachy." Lauren kicked the gravel with the toe of her own boot. "She'll need all the distraction she can get. I get the feeling she's not all that interested in her brother's baby."

"She will be," Lydia said softly. "She'll be given some minor responsibilities in that direction. And Puck's been asked to compare Beth to how Sarah was, when she was small, so Sarah can hear and relate." She had no idea why she wanted to reassure this tall, gothic teenager so badly, but apparently it needed to be done, so she'd make sure that was taken care of.

Lauren nodded. "Sarah said her family was big. I can tell she wasn't kidding."

Lydia nodded back. "We really ought to—"

"Lydia!" Sarah called, keeping her voice moderate, but she was obviously excited. "He's listening to me."

Lydia strode down to the end of the trailer, and eased in sight of the window. The shaggy guy inside did indeed have his ears pricked up, swiveled in her direction.

"Keep talking, in the same tone," Lydia said. "You can change the content of the discussion if you want. It doesn't matter what you say."

"There's another guy there, too," Sarah said, apparently continuing a conversation she'd begun earlier with the horse. "He's not my brother, but he might as well be. And he's got an amazing voice. I bet he'll sing to you."

Lydia watched, and the horse was blinking slowly, rolling his eye towards the girl. Hot damn. She'd lucked out with this in more ways than one, apparently. "You sure are right, chickabiddy, he is listening. That's an awesome good thing there. Good job."

Sarah looked pleased. Lauren appeared bored, but Lydia thought she might know better.

"Can I give him something to eat?" Sarah asked.

Lydia shook her head. "Not right now. See, look, he's still got hay in his net there. During this trip, we want to make sure his environment stays as calm as possible, and that means minimizing you and me coming and going out of that trailer. He's pretty tired, though, been through a lot. I'm really hoping he'll sleep most of the way home. Good to know that he'll listen to you and stay calm."

Sarah hopped back down and heaved her overstuffed backpack out of Lauren's truck. She looked up at Lauren with a suddenly uncertain expression. "Can I call you?"

"Sure," said Lauren. She reached out and fist-bumped Sarah. "Any time. I'll be around when you get back from that family reunion."

Finn knew he could have asked Kurt to drive him downtown to Carl's office after school on Tuesday. He didn't really like having to wait twenty minutes for the bus, but he knew the route well enough by now. The truth was, he wasn't quite ready to have ten minutes of uninterrupted time with Kurt in the car, because he knew Kurt was going to ask him about what had happened on Saturday night.

He wasn't even sure he knew what to say. I know I just not-proposed to you last week, Kurt, but something happened with this boy you know as Patrick, and being away from him is suddenly kind of killing me. Yeah. Talk about inspiring confidence. Even now, three days later, he could barely deal with the way it was making him feel.

It wasn't Blaine's doorstep he found himself on, though. He leaned hard on the doorbell of Carl's office, waiting for Angela to let him in. He did that a couple of times before he thought to wonder if she was still in town.

Sure enough, Angela wasn't the one who opened the door for him. Finn stared into wary blue eyes.

"May I help you?" asked the man.

"I'm looking for Carl."

"He's currently occupied. Would you like to make an appointment?"

The words were polite, but something about his tone, the way he seemed to expect Finn to turn around and walk away, made Finn bristle.

"No thanks," he said. "I'll wait here."

The man didn't prevent him from entering, but he returned to his desk and picked up the phone, murmuring a few words into the receiver. Finn stood with his back to him, studying the close-up photo of a braid of rope he'd looked at a dozen times, until someone emerged from the hallway. Unfortunately, it wasn't Carl.

"Hey, Finn," said Davis. "Carl's not going to be free for a few hours. You want to come into my office for a bit?"

The man at the desk didn't watch him leave, but Finn still felt scrutinized. He resisted an urge to turn and stare back, just to see what would happen.

"Who is that guy?" he demanded, once they were out of earshot.

"His name's Mark. He agreed to step in as Angela's substitute until things were more certain. Angela knew she could count on him." Davis held open his door for Finn and waited for him to enter first. "You might have seen him at Tessera? He was there over Valentine's Day, when you were there."

"I don't know." Finn eyed the door as he settled into a chair beside Davis' desk. "Angela trusts him?"

"We all do. He was the first slave Carl ever trained." Davis smiled to himself. "That was back before I knew anything about what Carl does. Mark is completely devoted to his owner, and his owner's loaning Mark to Carl on a temporary basis."

He knew the prickle of anger that came over him wasn't rational, but he didn't try too hard to disguise it. "He's going to be at Carl's house?"

Davis tilted his head. "Is there something I can help you with, Finn?"

Finn sighed in frustration. "I should really be dealing with this on my own."

"There's no problem. I'm just asking if I can be of assistance."

"Not unless you can make a wormhole or something that could take me to Westerville."

Davis' smile was sympathetic. "It's hard to be away from something you belong to."

"Someone," Finn said immediately. "He's someone." Then Finn looked a little closer at Davis' face. "You mean… you mean you?"

"I mean I've experienced that situation. When your responsibilities and your heart are in two different places, it's hard to be true to yourself. In your case, you're being torn in a lot of directions. Puck's been gone, what, a month?"

"Yeah, but he has Adam. And I know he's with Beth." He flexed his hands on the table. "He's getting taken care of. That's what matters."

"All of it matters," Davis said gently.

Blaine doesn't have anybody else. The anger rose up again. It wasn't about Davis. He didn't have to yell at him.

"And I'm glad you see the importance of him being with his daughter. When I had my son taken away from me, I promised Carl he would never have to go through that."

Finn paused. "Is that why you moved to Lima in the first place? Because of — his daughter?"

"Carl told me you know about Rachel, Finn." He nodded at him. "I also know Rachel means something to you, too."

"Yeah," he said, feeling exhausted already. "That's… a little weird."

"Well, to answer your question, it was a collaborative effort." Davis stood and walked to the water cooler in the corner, filling one glass, then another. "Rachel's parents are friends of ours. When we found ourselves in a position to need to leave Cleveland, we asked if they'd be willing to relocate. We did a little research and together chose Lima. Hiram got a position at St. Mary's, and Leroy opened a new practice south of Toledo."

Finn accepted the water from Davis. "So why'd you need to leave?"

Davis gave him a surprised look. "Carl never told you about what happened with my firm?" When Finn shook his head, he leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Well, that was a hell of a mess. It wasn't the first mess I got into that Carl couldn't get me out of, but it was the biggest."

Even in the midst of distraction, Finn was curious. "What happened?"

"Somebody found out about my involvement in the BDSM community," Davis said. "And they used it against me. I was a junior prosecutor, but I'd made some headway in a high-profile case. The defense attorney didn't like it. He issued a threatening letter, telling me to back off or he'd out me to the senior partners."

"Jeez," Finn said. He stared at Davis. "What did you do?"

"I wasn't about to put Carl at risk." Davis sipped his water. "I quit my job. Carl was pissed about the whole thing, of course, but he backed me up. He sent me out of the country to clear my head. I spent a half a year in London with a dance workshop, and when I came home, we talked about what to do. We decided it would be best to move to another city."

Finn swallowed on a dry throat. "That really sucks."

"Yeah," Davis agreed. "It was a lot to lose. That was almost six years ago, now. But it turned out okay. Carl loves his house. He's established both practices. And he gets to stay close to Rachel for a couple more years before she graduates."

Both practices. He nodded, feeling a little sick. "I think… maybe I should go."

"If I might make a suggestion?" Davis stood, gesturing upstairs. "The garden tub is free. I suspect Carl will come find you when he's done with his client."

Finn had never wanted to ask who Carl's clients were before Carl started seeing Ms. Pillsbury. Now, the chance of running into her provoked enough anxiety to keep him out of Carl's office entirely. He shook his head. "Thanks, but…you don't need to tell him I was here."

He called Blaine while he waited for the bus, tapping his foot while he waited. Hearing Blaine's voice, the way he said, "Finn?" with such relief, almost made him want to hang up the phone, but he kept it pressed to his cheek.

"Hey," he said, breathing out. "You doing okay?"

"I — yes." There was a shuffling, like papers were being moved. "Thank you for asking. I'm in the middle of a history project and I kind of… lost focus. But I'm okay."

"I didn't want you to worry," he said, trying to sound calm, not desperate the way he felt inside. "The way we left things after Saturday, I didn't want you to think… that that's the way it had to be."

"I didn't think it had to be anything other than what it was."

He glanced down the street toward the approaching bus. The memory of what had happened on Saturday night replayed itself in his mind, Blaine on his knees, submitting as completely as he knew how, with Carl there to guide him. "And that… was okay with you? What it was?"

"If it was okay with you." Blaine sounded, if not bewildered, something close to it. "You can tell me, if it wasn't?"

"No," said Finn. "No, no, that's — that's not why I'm calling." He tripped over the toe of his sneaker as he fumbled his coins into the slot, nearly spilling them to the grimy floor of the bus, and slid into an empty seat. His pulse was loud and heavy in his neck. "I just want you to have whatever you need. And now that I've seen it, understand it, I can give it to you now. Without anybody else there to — to help." To get in the way, he'd been about to say.

"You don't have to do it." Blaine sounded resigned.

"No!" Finn said, maybe a little louder than he'd meant to. He modulated his voice. "No. It's okay. Don't worry about that."

"No?"

"No. Just —" Finn gripped the seat in front of him. "Just let me. Okay?"

"Okay. If you're sure."

"I'm really sure," he promised. In his mind — not even his secret mind anymore, but his regular old everyday mind — there were kisses involved in the letting me, that kind that involved tongues and a lot of moaning. But at this distance and with these limitations, he was willing to leave it at a deep breath. "I'm really, really sure. Can you finish your project now?"

"I think so?"

"Do you need me to come out there and help you?"

Finn didn't mean to make it sound like a warning, but then he heard Blaine gulp, and he had to close his eyes and try to get himself under control. When the girl sitting on the seat next to him touched his arm, he startled.

"You okay?" she said under her breath.

Finn nodded. He wasn't sure what he could say without Blaine hearing it.

"Would you —" Blaine paused, and sighed. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm saying."

"That's okay. Just, you know. Hang in there."

"Okay." He listened to Blaine take another deep breath, this one more intentional. "I'm not sure what I'm hanging on to."

Yeah, I'm not sure either. That definitely wasn't the kind of certainty Blaine needed from him. This was feeling more and more awkward by the moment. Instead of trying to answer, Finn waited until he felt a little more calm, then said, "I can't come this Wednesday, because my mom would kill me if I don't get my work done for American history, but I'll see you on Saturday, okay?"

"Yes, thank you. You and Carl?"

"We'll be there," Finn promised. "And call me if you need anything."

"I will," said Blaine, in that kind of automatic way that told Finn he'd never actually call, even if he did need something. "Thank you again."

Finn put his phone away, not making eye contact with the girl beside him. She just looked at him sideways, then left him alone. That was probably just as well. He didn't feel like he was of much use to anyone at the moment.

As hard as that week was — being away from both Blaine and Puck, and trying not to think about how much he wanted Carl to take care of everything — Finn thought they sounded fantastic on Saturday at Irene's. He wasn't sure if it was the relief of taking a break from studying or something else he couldn't define, but the sound they created together seemed especially rich and powerful and sweet. Finn watched the expression on Carl's face escalate into something akin to bliss. He knew exactly how Carl felt.

"We are on today," Blaine said to him between U2's "Mysterious Ways" and Boston's "Peace of Mind," his eyes shining.

Finn just grinned. He didn't even argue with Carl when he tapped him on the shoulder to switch out drummers.

"We're going to take a break," said Blaine into the microphone. "But don't go away; we've got a second set after this."

Finn gulped the last of his lime soda and stepped down off the stage, moving through the back hallway toward the bathroom.

He could hear the conversation in the back room, and realized it was the first Saturday of the month — the day when the BDSM munch thing happened. He knew a little bit about it from Carl, and from talking to the woman who'd made Blaine's collar, but that was as far as he'd come to venturing inside. He paused outside the room, listening to the voices laughing and talking.

It was the laugh that sparked the memory. Finn recognized that man's laugh. He couldn't remember where he'd heard it until he heard another laughing voice, a woman, say, "That doesn't make it easy, Darren."

Darren. The image and the name merged in Finn's head, and he blanched, taking a step back. The cocky grin, the mullet. It was the lawn care guy. The guy his mom used to date, back when he was a kid.

"You know better than to snoop during this event," said Irene right behind him, making him jump. He gave her an apologetic look.

"There's a guy in there," he said. "Somebody my mom knows."

"No doubt." He stepped out of her way as she moved through the doorway into the room. That was definitely a glare. "But you'll keep confidentiality, or I'll have to ask you to leave."

"No, I — I will." Finn stepped away hastily. He really didn't want to get in the middle of things. "I'll go back. We've got another set."

She nodded, a hint of approval in her eyes. "The three of you draw more of a crowd at my open mic than anyone."

"They're still mostly here to see Patrick," he said.

Finn was pretty sure their second set wasn't as dynamic as the first had been. It was no wonder, not after he'd been distracted like that, but they still got plenty of applause. Finn stayed at the microphone for all three songs, letting Carl remain at the drum kit while he sang.

This was unusual enough behavior that Carl followed Finn down off the stage afterward. He placed a hand on Finn's back. Finn knew Carl was checking his vitals with that touch, paying attention to all the minute messages his body was sending out, but he fidgeted restlessly anyway.

"What happened?" Carl asked quietly.

Finn hesitated, torn. "I don't think I can say…"

"Oh my god. There's no way that's Finn? Little Finn?"

The excited voice was more familiar the second time. Finn still didn't remember the woman's name, but looking at her, he recognized her as surely as she was recognizing him. She was blonder and less pretty than he'd remembered.

"Sorry, you're mistaken," said Carl, his smile becoming bland as he shifted into protective mode. But the woman just laughed, pushing past Carl to stand close in front of Finn, touching his arm in a way that made Carl bristle even more.

"It is you! Well, as I live and breathe. It's me, Brenda." She smiled up at him. "Look how tall you've gotten. What are you doing in Columbus? You're not in college yet, are you?"

Her questions scattered across him, making him flinch. He looked at Carl for support. The second he did it, he knew it was a mistake. She looked at the way Carl was glaring, the distance Finn stood beside him, and her eyes widened.

"Oh — you're with Derek. So you must be here for the munch."

"Brenda," said Carl, the warning clear in his voice, but she was ignoring him.

"Are you here with your mom? I didn't see her in there either." She tilted her head. "Are you sure you're old enough to be here alone?"

Everything was moving too fast. Finn knew he could get a handle on this, that he had the right things to say in his head, but being here with Carl, seeing the recognition in Brenda's eyes, the crazy juxtaposition of his two worlds, he couldn't call forth anything like strength. He just stood there like an idiot.

"If you'd be so kind," Carl said, his voice icy, "he uses the name Christopher here."

Brenda was oblivious to Carl's repressed anger. She put both hands on Finn's arms, smiling warmly into his face.

"Christopher. Of course. That was your father's name, wasn't it?" She patted him, backing away. "Just wait there. Darren will definitely want to see you."

Carl took his elbow the moment she was out of sight. "How do you know her?" he demanded.

"It's — my mom." Finn shook his head, feeling muddled. "I don't want to do this. I don't want to talk to Darren."

"We can go home," said Carl immediately.

"I should say goodbye to Blaine. We're not going to — this is the last time I'll see him for a while."

Carl was already in motion. "Go on. I'll deal with Darren and Brenda."

Finn slid into a seat beside Blaine in the back of the coffeehouse, watching the guy on the stage make a mess of his cover of Danity Kane's "Damaged." Blaine gave him a smile, which changed to a quizzical look when he saw Finn's expression.

"Are you okay?" Blaine whispered.

"I'm sorry. I have to go. Something came up."

It was a weak excuse, but Blaine just nodded, only looking a little disappointed. "Okay. I'll talk to you later? Good luck with finals."

"You too." He had so much more he wanted to say, but during someone else's performance wasn't it. He walked away without even a hug for Blaine. It left him feeling dissatisfied and even more antsy, but he managed to get to the Corvette without running into Darren or Brenda.

"Jesus." Carl shook his head at Finn as he buckled the seat belt. "Of all the people to get mixed up with. How does your mom know them?"

"She dated — him. Um, I think them." Finn leaned back against the seat. "I totally didn't know that back then, but looking back on it, it's obvious. I guess I shouldn't ask how you know them."

"Believe me, there's nothing to tell. They show up some months at the munch. You're going to meet a lot of people in the scene, Finn, some of whom will terrify you and some of whom will make you laugh. When it's both, I recommend you turn and walk away quickly." Carl looked a little ill. "I hope your mom did that."

"Darren wasn't around for too long. I get the feeling she figured out he wasn't Mr. Right. I remember her standing in the road and shouting at both of them as they drove away." Finn watched the Columbus scenery disappear as they got on the highway heading north. He could still feel the pounding of his heart in his throat. "They knew me. And you."

Carl's mouth tightened. "Yeah."

"What if they say something to somebody?"

"Finn, we can't worry about that right now."

"We have to worry about it," said Finn. His voice was loud in the enclosure of the car. "It's not like this isn't ever going to happen again. Especially with you and Ms. P being together. It's going to be harder to make people think we don't — that we're not —"

Carl waited for the words that Finn didn't say to dissipate before reaching for Finn's hand. After a moment, Finn took it. It felt like a surrender, and not a good one. He tasted the coppery tang of adrenaline in his mouth.

"I don't want you to be scared about that."

"How can I not be scared about that?" Finn shouted. "How can you? You're the one with everything to lose. What if it's like it was in Cleveland all over again?"

Carl gave him a sidelong look, keeping his eyes on the highway. "Who told you about that?"

"Davis."

He nodded. "We handled Cleveland."

"You had to move. How is that handling it?"

"Well, we kept our standing in our professions, and we came out of it with our reputations in the community intact. And I stayed close to Rachel. I'd say that counts as handling it."

Finn stared at his hands. "I hate this."

"I know it's not easy," Carl began, but Finn withdrew his hand from Carl's, and Carl stopped talking.

"I think we shouldn't be together," Finn said. "Anymore."

The silence went on for a while. He didn't look up at Carl as he fought for words. Kurt would have known what to say, but Finn just felt like he was fumbling for something, anything, to explain what he was doing in a way that didn't feel like giving up.

"I mean, I can't really stop seeing you. I know I need what you give me. The discipline. I know that about myself. But I can't do this anymore, this — fake boyfriend thing. It's not good for either of us."

Carl spoke quietly. "I'll thank you to speak for yourself, boy."

"For me, then," Finn said. He closed his eyes. "It's not good enough for me."

He waited for what felt like a very long time before he heard Carl's sigh.

"Well, I suppose I'm not surprised. You've been telling me you weren't happy for a while."

I was, Finn thought miserably. I was happy. It's the stupid world that's not going to let me have that. That definitely sounded like whining in his head, though, so he just nodded.

"You would like to continue as my client."

Finn flinched, but he nodded again. "I'll keep doing the… the training."

Carl's voice was even. "I think that would be best, yes. You're making good progress. I'd hate to see you lose that because of a change in our relationship."

Neither of them said anything for the rest of the drive back to Lima. Carl brought him directly to Kurt's house instead of back to his own. He idled in the driveway while Finn collected his things, not making any motion to get out of the car. But after Finn climbed out, Carl reached for his hand — not to hold it, but just to touch it to get his attention.

"Finn," said Carl, sounding very gentle. "I'm not angry at you."

"Yeah, well, you get to be," Finn muttered. "People get to be angry when somebody breaks up with them."

"I'm not going to think about it like that. Relationships shift and become whatever people need them to be. This, you and I, can be whatever you need."

Finn wasn't going to yell at Carl in Kurt's driveway. "Yeah, no. If that were true, I wouldn't be doing this. Just —" He shook his head, feeling something inside him give way. "Just let me be the one to call you. Okay?"

He couldn't stand there and look at the stricken look on Carl's face any longer. He shut the car door and let himself into the house through the garage. He wasn't going to go to the front door; he couldn't face his mom's questions or Burt's bewildered kindness.

Kurt was sitting on the green couch with the television on, frowning at his notebook. He scribbled something, crossed it out, muttered words under his breath and wrote more. He didn't seem to be paying attention to the musical that was playing on the screen, but Finn knew better.

Finn sat down next to Kurt, close enough for their legs to touch. Kurt put an absent hand on his leg, squeezing once before going back to his writing.

"Make any progress on your story?" Finn asked.

"I can't tell yet. Most of this is pathetic crap, but I won't know how much of it is okay until I'm done. Then I can toss out everything I can't stand, and hopefully I'll still have enough to meet the required word count."

Finn picked up the remote control. "Okay if I turn this off?"

Kurt looked up at the screen, as if he was startled to realize it was still playing. "I guess?" Then he finally looked at Finn. Immediately he set his notebook down on the table, turning toward him, and put his arms around Finn's middle, pulling him close. "What happened?"

"I broke up with Carl," Finn said.

He cried for a long time, trying to keep it quiet. Eventually Kurt helped him stand up and brought him into the bedroom, where they lay on his bed and Finn cried some more. Kurt didn't try to stop him, but he handed him a clean handkerchief every now and then, and rubbed Finn's back and kissed him.

"Do you want to tell me anything else?" Kurt asked eventually. "About why?"

Finn sniffed, rubbing his face on Kurt's pillow. "I don't know if I have words to explain."

"I'm just a little surprised. A lot surprised."

"It's not about you, if you're worried about that." He propped himself up on one elbow. "I think I decided I didn't really like who I was becoming with him. Like, how much I needed him for everything. That's how I am around him, and… that's not who I want to be. Not who I need to be, for Puck. Or Patrick. Or Beth."

Kurt watched him with obvious concern, touching his hair, his face. "Do you really think he wants you to be like that? Helpless?"

"It's not even about what he wants. It's just how I feel when I'm around him." Finn sighed. "It sucks. But I think I need to figure out who I am without him. And I'm still going to… see him. In his office."

"Oh." Kurt sounded startled. "That sounds like it might be really hard."

"Yeah. But it was hard being with him and not getting what I wanted, too."

"I'm sorry," said Kurt. "I'm sorry I didn't realize it was that bad. I feel like I should have."

"No, baby." Finn kissed him, still holding on. "I was kind of keeping it to myself. I would have told you."

Kurt nodded. "Is there anything I can do, then?"

Finn closed his eyes, letting himself relax into Kurt's strength. "You're doing it."

Shelby waved when she saw Toby in the aisle along the wall of the gymnasium. He edged his way in, smiling and apologizing as he nudged against everyone seated. Everyone smiled back, of course. Shelby recognized that was the way the world reacted to Toby. Either he charmed their socks off, or they were intimidated by him.

"I wasn't sure you'd get my message inviting you to this," she said as he settled himself on the folding chair beside her. "How many voice mails did you have about the USA Today article when you got back from Denver?"

"Something close to forty," he said. "Will got more than that. I'll say nobody on my end was all that surprised. I did get one from Will's father, sayin' he was glad for us. That was a laugh, especially considering he didn't call Will."

"Well, I was surprised," Shelby said, grinning. "I point blank asked Will if he was gay, and he said no."

"Yeah, he's been sayin' that for about fifteen years. Not any more, though." He held up his left hand and showed Shelby the ring.

"Huh." She admired it, since he obviously wanted her to. "So he's your mystery man. And you managed to get through a half a year of competition with him, and an HIV scare, and you're still together. I guess I can't say anything about that. Except — you're not planning to move to Lima, are you?"

Toby laughed out loud. "Hell, no. I moved from Denver. That's as far as I'm planning to move. Plus I just bought this house. He's comin' to me."

They looked up at the stage, where the band was just beginning to begin "Pomp and Circumstance." She shifted in her seat, scanning the sea of graduates in robes and mortar boards for Jesse's face.

"Who's the empty seat for?" Toby said, nodding to the other side of her. "I thought I was your date for this event?"

"My ex," she said. "Jesse's dad. He's always late to everything. Yes, including his own wedding — both of them."

Sure enough, another five minutes went by before Davis arrived. He didn't have nearly as many smiles from the people in the aisle compared to Toby, but he also didn't bump against anyone as he wound his way around the spectators. Davis was just as graceful as he'd ever been.

"Sorry to be late," he said, taking his seat. He hugged Shelby before noticing Toby — and stopped, staring. Toby stared back, then let out a smothered hoot.

"Well, well. Ain't this a small world." He reached out a hand and Davis took it, holding it across Shelby's lap. "You're Jesse St. James' father. I'm his dance teacher."

She rolled her eyes and groaned. "For crying out loud. Do you know every gay man in the world?"

"London," Davis said, his face splitting into a delighted grin. "We met at the Royal Academy of Dance, at the workshop Carl sent me to. Toby, right? Davis. What a coincidence. Wait, I thought you were in Denver? How'd you end up in Ohio?"

"Forget this." Shelby stood up, pushing Davis into her own seat and taking his. "I'm not having your reunion happen over top of me. Just keep in mind we're here for Jesse. This is not a hook-up. Not to mention the two of you are both taken."

"Oh, do tell." Toby gathered Davis' hands into his, smiling. "I'm all ears. Tell me all about who's captured your heart, and I'll tell you about mine."

They managed to keep their animated conversation reasonably quiet through the entire ceremony, not even drawing one glare from the families around them. When Jesse walked out on stage to accept his diploma and shake Principal Taylor's hand, they stopped to cheer without being reminded, then went right back to talking. Shelby watched them, bemused, wondering if she should take a picture of the two of them together to use as ammunition.

They followed the graduates as they processed out, tossing their hats as they went. Toby gave Shelby a hug, then smiled and gave Davis one too.

"Congrats, mom, dad. You've got yourself an official adult."

Shelby let out an exaggerated sigh. "He's heading off to California as soon as they'll let him leave school. I don't think we'll be seeing much of him for a while. Thanks for coming, Toby."

"It was my pleasure." He reached out to touch Davis' hand, and left behind a card, grinning impishly. "Call me."

"It's a different world, isn't it?" she asked Davis when Toby had gone. He'd pocketed the card in his hand, but he was still smiling. "Being a gay man. It's like the rules the rest of the world use don't apply."

"He's got an agreement," Davis protested. "He and his partner. They're free to see other people, as long as it's not getting back together with their exes. I don't think I count as an ex. Anyway, this was just a friendly conversation. We haven't seen each other in years. It was nice to catch up."

"Oh, is that what you were doing." She sniffed. "Come on. Let's find our kid. We promised to take him out for dinner before he vanishes to California."

"So then he finally showed up," said Toby, stretching out the hand holding his wine glass in a salute, "and it was the fella I'd hooked up with in London back in 2005. Shelby's ex."

"You do get around." Will could only feel amused. He supposed the two glasses of wine were helping. "You suppose you'll see him again?"

"I'm more interested in dancing with him again. That boy had moves." He leaned back into the crook of Will's arm. "I'm not looking for a hookup."

Will smirked. "I think you don't ever go looking for them, but sometimes they find you."

"Oh!" Toby sat up abruptly, nearly spilling his wine. "That reminds me. I found you a summer school Spanish teacher. To replace the guy who canceled on you?"

"Is that right?"

"Well, as it happens, the boy I've been teaching privately, Jake? His counselor is lookin' for a career change. She wants to get into the schools, so she's been takin' classes toward her certification. I've seen her in action at the P-FLAG meetings. She's got some mojo with those kids." He grinned triumphantly. "And she speaks Spanish."

"I don't know, Toby," Will said doubtfully. "I think Figgins needs to hire a certified teacher."

"Couldn't hurt to ask. I'll pass on her contact info. Beggars can't be choosers, not at this date, hmm? The kids are starting in two weeks."

"You think you're so full of good ideas." Will poked Toby's nose, making him flutter and complain. "Denver Pride, now this. What's next?"

"Oh, I don't know," he drawled. "I was thinking about tryin' out for a show."

Kurt barely paid attention to his father's words as he pulled into the loop in front of the Grand knew his dad was telling him to call when he was ready to be picked up, and to be careful, not to wander around Toledo by himself, and any number of other things, but all he could think was, Adam is waiting for me inside.

"I will, dad," he said. Whatever his dad had said, he would do. He wouldn't do anything inappropriate or unsafe. He would be in the hotel with Adam. He leaned over and kissed his dad's cheek, making him pause in his speech and smile in surprise. "I'll be fine."

"I'm sure." His dad watched him as he got out of the car. "But you know you can call me, any time."

"And you know I won't be calling you until eleven o'clock," he said, laughing. "I could have just driven myself."

His dad was still smiling. "Humor me, okay? You're my only son. I'll be waiting."

Kurt went up to the desk. He only hesitated a moment before saying, "I'm here to meet someone?"

The woman at the desk smiled politely. "All right?"

"Um… Adam Lambert."

It was still strange to say his whole name. The woman stiffened, frowning at him. He could only assume that meant she knew who he was, and disapproved of whatever she thought they were doing together. He could only smile. Whatever you think we're doing, you're probably wrong.

"Mr. Lambert's security officer will be down in a moment to bring you upstairs," she said. "You may wait in the lounge, if you like."

"I'm fine here," he said, stepping back.

The hotel was fancier than any he'd been in before, all wood and shiny brass and subtle lighting. He could imagine executives for some fashion magazine meeting here for a conference, schmoozing and talking over wine.

When he looked up, Angela was standing beside him, smiling at him. He rose to his feet and hugged her hard.

"You're here," he said. "That's so weird."

She laughed. "Tell me about it."

"You're doing all right?"

"I really am," she said. "Adam's waiting for you upstairs."

He took her arm, grasping it gratefully. She felt so warm and familiar and safe. "I'm glad you're here with him."

"I am, too. Have you talked with Noah?"

"Noah," Kurt said, smiling. "Since when do you call him that?"

"Since everyone around him called him that," she said, laughing. "Adam and Tess and Shelby. Everyone at Tessera calls him that — when they're not calling him brat, or boy. But he doesn't mind any of it. He's waiting for the day when someone calls him Papa."

His smile broadened as they paused in front of the elevator. "It won't be long, will it? A couple months, she'll be talking."

"I know." Her eyes had lit up. It made him smile to see it, the way she was reacting to thoughts of Beth.

"You really love her, don't you."

She smiled. "I really do. She's fantastic."

"Why didn't you ever have your own children?"

Angela was quiet as they boarded the elevator. The doors closed behind them.

"When I was a little girl, I always wanted to be a mother," she said. "I met the man I thought was going to be the father of my children in college. He told me I didn't need to do what I loved, that I only needed to follow his rules to be happy. And I wanted to follow them." She slid a keycard into the slot above the number buttons, pushing the button for the top floor. "I loved following his rules, even when they took me away from the things I wanted."

Kurt watched the numbers climb to the twenty-seventh floor. "What did you want?"

She smiled. "It doesn't matter now. But he wasn't a kind man. I got hurt, a lot. I didn't mind that so much, but when it hurt my baby, I didn't know what to do."

The bell dinged. He looked at her, calm and poised, waiting for him to exit the elevator. "You let him hurt your baby?"

"I miscarried, several times. I felt trapped, but I loved my husband. I didn't know what to do. Until I heard Carl, on the radio. That's another story, but his words, the things he said, gave me the courage to leave, and to find another way to be happy." She gestured for him to walk with her down the hall. "We all have more than one thing we can do. I lost one, but gained another. I don't have regrets about that."

They turned the corner and continued down the silent hallway. Kurt wanted to ask her so much more, but his mind was still focused on Adam, waiting for him in the hotel room. He took Angela's arm as they walked, linking it with his own. The surprise on her face looked a lot like that of his dad's when he'd kissed him on the cheek.

"So how is Noah doing?" she asked. "I imagine you miss him."

"I've been trying to stay busy with school, but… yes, very much." Kurt smiled. "Since you and Adam left Tessera, he's been conspicuously clingy on the phone."

That made her laugh. "He needs people. But he's not exactly alone. And he'll be home soon enough. You'll have a whole summer to be together, and after that."

"I'm definitely not objecting," said Kurt.

They stopped at the door in the corner, and Angela slid the keycard in, opening it for him. The woman who met them at the door was unfamiliar, but she let them in without question.

And there was Adam, standing by the window, dressed in a satin robe and slippers. He turned and saw Kurt. In three strides, he was standing before him, holding his face in both hands while he kissed him.

"Oh, honey," Adam whispered. He took a moment to look at Kurt, really look, for a good twenty seconds. Kurt almost squirmed under the scrutiny. He was smiling so hard, his face hurt.

"I'll be here," said the woman who'd met him at the door, clearly amused.

Angela was already standing in a silent, subservient pose beside the table. Adam paused to stand before her. He didn't lay a hand on her, but the way he spoke, Kurt could hear the same love in his voice that he heard when Adam spoke to him. It made him smile.

"You're all done for tonight, Angela."

"Thank you, Adam."

There was no curtsey or bow or anything other than her simple response to indicate her obedience, but it was obvious all the same. Adam led Kurt into the adjoining room and shut the door.

Kurt couldn't help but ask, "What will she do now that she's… done?"

"Whatever she wants," he said. "I can't get behind the idea of 24-7 slavery. I think it's important for her not to forget how to make decisions for herself." He giggled, sitting on the bed and kicking off his slippers. "I believe she and Crystal have an ongoing after-hours poker tournament."

"Crystal's your new security officer." Kurt sat beside him, sliding over until he was close enough to touch.

"She's worked with the band all along. She doesn't want to know about our personal lives, and she keeps her mouth shut. Otherwise, it's strictly professional with the band. But I think she likes having Angela around." Adam nuzzled his ear. "Do you really want to spend this time talking about Crystal?"

"No," gasped Kurt. He tipped his neck back, already feeling dizzy with Adam's lips on his neck. "You — you can stop talking any time."

"Mmmm." Adam gave him a wicked smile as he slid down to kneel between his thighs. "That sounds like an invitation."

They didn't talk about anything else until much later, when they were both naked and much more relaxed, and Kurt was massaging Adam's back.

"I get the idea that Noah has loved being at Tessera," said Kurt, digging in with his thumbs. "But it's hard for me to tell if it's that he loved Tessera, or loved being with you."

"Maybe a combination?" He made a protesting noise as Kurt found a particularly sore spot, but he didn't flinch or tell him to stop.

"What did you love the most?"

Adam rolled over onto his back, looking up at Kurt. "Honestly?"

"Of course."

"I think I loved being with Beth the most. And, seriously, I did not expect that." He grinned at the face Kurt made. "I know you don't expect that either. And I'm not saying you're going to feel that way."

"Babies are messy," Kurt groaned. "They're loud and they take up way too much space and time and — is it wrong of me to wish I had more time with Noah, alone, instead of more time with Noah and Beth?"

"Not wrong at all," Adam said. He stretched his arms above his head with a happy sigh. "And I'm going to ask you in a year if you feel the same way."

Kurt gave him a dubious look. "Okay."

"And maybe you will and maybe you won't." He shrugged. "That's all I'm saying."

Kurt settled into Adam's arms. "So do you miss her?"

"So much," Adam said. "Not in a hurty way, but in a distracted way. Like, I was on stage on Friday, getting ready for opening night, and there I was, looking around for her bottles and paying attention to when she needed to eat."

"That sounds kind of annoying."

"Not even a little bit. Which, I know, weird. But what can I say? Love is funny that way. Do you object to missing Noah and wanting to take care of him?"

"No!" Kurt exclaimed. "Okay. I see what you mean. I just… I hope he won't hate me if I don't love her the way you do. If I want to have him all to myself sometimes."

"You can want that." Adam glanced at the clock. "I hate to say it, but you'd better call your dad if you want to leave by eleven."

Kurt wrapped his arms more tightly around Adam's chest. "He's downstairs in the lobby. We still have six minutes before I have to get dressed."

"Okay," said Adam, smiling. "I'm not going to argue about that. As long as Finn's not home waiting for you. Is he out with Carl tonight?"

He sighed. "God. I didn't tell you. Finn broke up with him."

"Finn broke up with—Carl?" Adam looked floored. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Nothing that wasn't already happening, but I completely missed it. He wanted things Carl couldn't give him." Kurt squeezed a little tighter, then reluctantly let Adam go. "He's at a movie with Sarah and Carole. I don't think he's upset about us being here together."

"Wow. Yeah, I didn't see that coming either." Adam kissed Kurt's cheek before giving him a little nudge. "I hope Carl's okay."

"Me too." Kurt fished on the floor for his socks, smiling faintly. "It's kind of funny how much we care about somebody who's not either of our boyfriends."

"A person doesn't have to be your lover for him to matter."

"No, but he's not just a friend, either." He paused in pulling on his pants, thinking. "There should be a word for boyfriends of boyfriends."

"Former boyfriends of boyfriends?" Adam watched Kurt get dressed with a grave face. "I don't know, honey. Not everybody sticks around forever. I think sometimes you just have to be willing to let people go."

"I don't know if Finn's doing that, though. I have a feeling this is more about him than it is about Carl. He's trying so hard to figure out who he is."

"That seems like the kind of thing you're supposed to do when you're seventeen."

Kurt finished getting dressed while Adam donned his slippers and robe, then joined him at the door. Kurt sent his dad a text: One minute left. I'll be downstairs at eleven.

Adam drew his attention away from the phone with a very focused, very leisurely kiss. The way he looked into Kurt's eyes made him weak.

"Is that how it is for you?" Adam asked. "Do I distract you from figuring out who you are?"

"No," said Kurt, very firmly. "You do the exact opposite. You make it possible for me to be anything I want to be."

Adam's smile broke into brilliance. He hugged Kurt fiercely.

"That was exactly the answer I wanted to hear," he whispered.

Burt saw Carl before Carl saw him. He paused in his transmission repair to wash his hands and make his way up to the front office.

"Hey, there, Carl," he said, offering his hand. Carl shook it. He was definitely not dressed for dentistry, not in that suit and tie. "What are you up to this afternoon?"

"I'm on my way out of town," he said. "It's time for a vacation. I wanted to leave the 'Vette with you for her thirty thousand mile inspection."

"No problem." Burt accepted the keys and slowly typed HOWELL, C into the system to bring up his record. "You've been racking up those miles on your weekend visits to Columbus. We'll be heading out of town pretty soon ourselves, after Puck gets back from, er…" He glanced over at Luke, working out of earshot, and the empty office. "From Tessera."

"Yes, I remember. Carole's family reunion." Carl paused, drumming on the counter. "Look, I know Angela's been bringing the car here since I met… your family. I just want to make sure it's not going to be awkward for me to keep doing that now."

"Awkward?" Burt said blankly.

"Yes. I figure you'd tell me if it were. I'd be willing to take my business elsewhere, if you'd prefer that, but in this city, there's no one else I'd trust more with my car."

Burt still wasn't sure what Carl was talking about, but he shook his head. "No, not at all."

Carl signed the estimate and shook his hand again, then went out front and climbed into the passenger side of the sedan idling by the curb. Burt watched the car drive away, then called Kurt.

"Did you forget the combination to the safe again?" Kurt sighed. "It's thirty-seven right, then —"

"No, nothing like that. I just had a visit from Carl. Howell." As if he could be talking about any other Carl. Burt scratched his head. "I don't know. He was acting really funny."

"Dad,"said Kurt. Now he sounded funny too. "There can't be that many more people I have to tell this, considering nobody's supposed to know about the two of them. Finn's not with Carl anymore. He broke up with him."

"Oh. Oh, jeez. I had — I had no idea." He stared out the front door again, as if Carl were still there. "Finn — with him?"

"Yes, but he's pretty much a wreck about it. If he hasn't talked to you, I bet Carole doesn't know either. Please don't tell her, okay? Let Finn do that."

"Sure, yeah. Thanks. I'll see you tonight."

He stared at the phone for a minute after he disconnected his call with Kurt. Then he looked on the estimate and found Carl's own phone number, and called it.

"This is Carl," Burt heard.

"Hey, it's Burt," he said. He decided he'd best just forge ahead. This was already an awkward conversation, and it wasn't going to get easier anytime soon. "I, uh, just wanted to say, I'm sorry about what happened. With you and Finn."

"That's… kind of you." Carl sounded startled.

"Well, Finn's not my son, but… I've seen how you care about him." Burt coughed. "Care for him. It's not anything I've ever seen anybody do before, but… you've both taught me a lot. As far as I'm concerned, you've been an asset to this family."

"I appreciate you saying that." Burt could tell Carl was struggling, now, could hear the strain in his voice. He hurried on.

"And I want you to know, it's fine for you to bring your car into the shop."

"Thank you, Burt. I appreciate that we can all be professionals about this." He paused. "Take care of him, all right?"

"I'll do what I can," said Burt. "And you, uh, take care of yourself."

He hung up the phone and had to rest his head in his hand for a moment, feeling the weight of the knowledge of exactly what he had just sanctioned. He sure as hell understood why Finn might have decided it was too much to deal with.

Then he called Carole.

"I have an idea," he said. "I want to run it by you before I make any moves, but I think this would help Finn. Especially considering he's, you know, got summer school starting soon. He might need something to cheer him up a little."

Finn closed his notebook with a sigh and tossed it onto the coffee table. There was no way he was going to make up enough points in Spanish to get better than a D, no matter how well he did on the final, but at least he wouldn't fail. His mom had already sent in his application for summer school. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my summer before junior year, he thought.

When he looked up, Kurt was standing on the stairs. "Do you have a minute?"

Before he could answer, his phone rang. He held it up, noticing Blaine's name on the screen. "I have to take this," he said, "but then I do."

Kurt took a couple steps back up the staircase. "Just come upstairs when you're done, okay?"

He nodded, putting the phone to his ear. "Hey."

"Hi," said Blaine. He could hear the smile in Blaine's voice, and it made him smile, too. "So, um, I know you're probably busy, so I'm going to make this quick, but… I wanted you to know first."

"Know what?"

"Where I'm going to be this summer." He laughed. "My mom wants me to stay with her, at her house."

Finn sat up straight on the green couch. "You mean —"

"I'll be in Lima."

He felt a rush of sudden relief. "Oh. Oh, wow."

"Yeah, I know. It's really weird for me to even think about it, but… I think it'll be okay. You know? I think I can handle it now."

Finn was smiling bigger, big enough to make it hard to talk. "I think you can too."

"Yeah?" He sounded so shy.

"Definitely. So I'll call you when we get back from the reunion?"

"That sounds great. Thank you. Good luck on your finals, Finn."

"Thanks. You too."

Finn sat on the couch for a few more minutes, holding his phone, before he could stand up and go up the stairs. It was probably good that Blaine had waited until now to call him. There was no way he was going to be able to focus now.

"Kurt?" he called. When he rounded the corner, Kurt was sitting at the dining room table. Beside him were Burt and his mom. He paused, looking at them warily.

"What?" he asked. "What did I do now? Is this, like, an intervention or something?"

"Or something," said his mom. She came over and put something small in his hand. "Something you've been waiting for a while."

Finn looked at the object. It was a car key. Stamped on it was the word FORD. He blinked.

"What is this?" he repeated.

"Luke's Wednesday night customer never came back to claim his car," Burt said. "Guess he didn't want to pay for the repairs. His number was disconnected. There was nothing I could do but sell it… or eat the cost, and give it to somebody who needed a car."

Finn stared at Burt. "This is my car?"

"Oh, come on, Finn," said Kurt dryly behind crossed arms. "It's a Ford Focus. I'm not exactly sure it qualifies as a car."

Finn was already heading for the door. The car sitting in the driveway was blue, with a patched tailpipe and a crack across the bottom of the windshield. He came around to the driver's side and put an awed hand on the hood.

"Go on," called Burt from the porch. "Start her up. She still needs a new muffler, but she runs."

Finn climbed into the driver's seat, settling himself onto the grey vinyl upholstery. The key slid into the lock without a hitch. He could hear the muffler issue as soon as he started up the engine, but when he revved it, it was smooth and regular. He ran his fingers over the dashboard.

"Burt figured you'd need something to drive to Columbus this summer." His mom was leaning into the passenger window, smiling. "If he thinks this is safe, I don't think any of us can argue with him."

Finn had to swallow twice before he could say anything. "I — I don't need to go to Columbus. Patrick's coming to Lima for the summer."

His mom's smile widened. "I can tell that's a good thing. Well, maybe in the fall, then."

"I'm not saying I don't want the car," Finn added quickly. "I totally want the car. Wow."

"This isn't a bribe," she said, "but maybe you can think of it as… an incentive. To work extra hard on Spanish this summer. I don't want you to have to repeat that class again."

"No, I will. I mean, I won't." He turned off the engine and climbed out again, coming around to the passenger side to hug her. "Mom, this is… thank you."

"Hey, it was all Burt." She hugged him anyway. "You can thank him."

"I will." He turned his head toward the porch, where Burt and Kurt were standing with their arms around each other, each of them wearing matching grins. He could feel his own tugging at his cheeks.

"Four cars is kind of a lot," he said. "I guess we're going to use up all the space in the garage in the new place after all."

She nodded, laughing. "I never doubted it."

The car, he thought, and Blaine here, and Puck home again. The house. And Kurt.

"It's good to see you smiling," said his mom.

"Yeah," he said, leaning against her shoulder. "I have a lot of reasons to do that."

I have climbed the highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you

I have run, I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you

But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for

- U2, "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For"

Author's final note: I'm writing these last words of FoYF from a place I could have never imagined being in back in 2012 when I started this story. So much has changed in two and a half years. I want to thank everyone who got involved and kept me going when things got complicated, my friends and cowriters who kept me inspired, and the readers who stuck around through the delays and confusion and Cory's death. Specifically: knittycat99, flinchflower, penthea, supergreak, gala_apples, ca-babs, elexusniall, and jasondragon64. I obviously have plenty to say, but without you, I wouldn't have a lot of reason to say it. Thank you all, so much.

There's so much of the Donutverse left to tell, but finishing a piece of it gives me a lot of satisfaction. The sheer size of this piece is leading me to break it up into individual stories, probably eleven of them, while I finish the next story (Dying in America). "The Fingers of Your Fire" is a lyric from the Indigo Girls' song "Ghost," so all the stories will be named for lyrics from that song. I'm just telling you this so when you see the stories appear on FFNet or AO3, you won't be surprised that you've already read them!

Winter solstice is a perfect time for endings and beginnings. Here's a toast to all of the stories that haven't yet been told. I'll wish for happy endings to all of them.

-amy