Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dave climbed out of the cab, avoiding several pedestrians hurrying toward the terminal, and tucked his phone more securely against his neck. "Mom, I'm just—I'm at the airport now. No, I heard you. That was the wind. Really, I heard it the first time, you don't have to—" He stifled a sigh as he set his suitcase on the curb amidst a sea of predictably black bags, then gave the cabbie a perfunctory smile and passed him a couple of dollars. Into the phone, he added, “No, I mailed it to Dana two weeks ago. I don't remember, something from her baby registry. Do I have to know what it’s called? She wanted it, I bought it."

Dave found himself distracted by a man in a brown jacket climbing out of the cab behind his. He was talking on the phone, too, loudly enough so that there was no way not to overhear the conversation.

"... make it by tomorrow afternoon, no problem," the man was saying. When he laughed, there was something familiar about his voice, but he was turned away and Dave couldn't see his face.

"Mom... Mom.” Dave put a little edge into his voice. “I’m going inside now. I'll call you after I land. I love you too. Tell Dad not to worry.” He had to say goodbye twice more before he managed to end the conversation.

"Not without me," protested the man in the brown jacket, still laughing. "Come on, mom, I’m flying all the way there. The least you can do is wait for me to make the fruitcake." He reached for the handle of Dave's bag, then cast Dave an apologetic, familiar grin that stopped Dave in his tracks. It had been over a decade since he’d seen that grin, but it was, without a doubt, Finn Hudson.

Finn didn't seem to notice who he'd smiled at, because he just grabbed the correct bag and set off toward the terminal. Dave stood there on the curb and watched him go. There was no way he was going to call anything after him, no matter how friendly that smile had been, because—really, what did you say to the stepbrother of a guy you’d tormented? By the time he finally recovered his bearings, Finn was long gone, and Dave headed off to the terminal alone.

But when he got through security and made his was across the airport to his gate, Finn was there, again.  Dave continued to keep his distance, but he watched Finn settle his long frame in one of the chairs by the window.

In many ways, Finn looked the same. He had a similar build as he had in high school, still long and lanky, and a smile that still came easily, even when directed at strangers in airports. Now, however, he appeared to be more at home in his body than he'd been back then. The awkwardness Dave remembered was gone, leaving behind a casual confidence that did not appear to be feigned.

Dave almost sat in the empty chair beside him, but ultimately decided to keep to himself until the flight attendant called him to board. Finn remained a couple of steps ahead of Dave as they entered the plane, but Dave was the one who made sure he had a seat on the aisle, one ear listening to Finn strike up a conversation with the flight attendant.

"Hey, excuse me..." Finn smiled up at her, all boyish earnestness. "Do you happen to have a set of over-the-ear headphones I could borrow?"

"I'm sorry, sir, those are only for our first class passengers," she said. "Can I get you anything else?"

Finn nodded in apparent understanding. "I just can't use the in-the-ear kind. Are you sure you don't have one extra pair?" As she shook her head apologetically, he shrugged easily, reaching into the pocket in front of him and holding up a little wrapped package. “Also… I wanted to pass this on to you and your crew. I know you work extra hard at this time of year, and I really appreciate everything you do. Happy holidays.”

She looked taken aback, but she smiled as she accepted the gift. "Well, that is really very thoughtful of you! Thanks.” Then she paused, glancing over her shoulder, then leaned in toward Finn. “You know, I'm just going to take a look and see if we might have an extra pair of over-ear headphones for you after all, okay?"

"Only if it's no trouble." He kept the smile directed at her until she was out of sight.

Dave shook his head, chuckling. He leaned into the aisle to catch Finn's attention. "Asking for headphones like that... does that actually work?"

"I don't know," Finn admitted. "We'll see." Then he did a double-take. “No way. Dave Karofsky? What are you doing in Los Angeles?"

"I live here. You too?"

Finn nodded. "For eight years now. Came for grad school and never left.” His smile increased, approaching brilliance. “What do you know, we both got out of Lima. Are you on your way home for the holidays?"

"My folks are hosting family dinner for me and my sister.” He tightened the seat belt across his lap. "I don't get home much anymore."

"Tell me about it." Finn paused in his conversation as the flight attendant approached him again, handing him a plastic-wrapped bundle. His smile broadened. “Thank you!”

She put a finger to her lips. “It’ll be our secret.”

Dave shook his head in incredulity as Finn unwrapped the headphones. “I can’t believe you got her to give them to you.”

“Becoming a therapist definitely taught me something about how to talk to people.” He admired the headphones for a moment, then held them out across the aisle to Dave with a teasing grin. “Maybe you should take them. You’re the one who missed out on Glee club in high school, after all.”

Dave waved him off, chuckling. “You couldn’t have paid me to join any clubs back then, but that doesn’t imply I wasn’t listening to music.” He cocked his head. “What about you? What are you listening to these days?”

Finn’s smile faded. He hesitated, then withdrew the headphones. “On second thought, maybe I’ll use them after all.”

Dave just nodded, not questioning Finn’s sudden change of heart. He dug out his own earbuds, plugged them into the jack on the back of the seat in front of him, chose an inoffensive audio track from the selection, and closed his eyes.

That kept him distracted well enough for the initial part of the flight, though the air was too rough for him to really tune out. It wasn’t long before the music was interrupted by a weary message from their flight crew. “Well, folks, I’m sorry to report there’s a weather system ahead of us that’s closed airports all the way across the Rockies and well into the Great Plains. We’re going to have to land in Flagstaff.”

Dave’s stomach sank. The other passengers around him were muttering to one another, and from what little he could see of Finn’s face, he was feeling just as dismayed as Dave was. He gripped the armrests with both hands and held on until they finally landed unevenly on the tarmac.

“When can you reroute us?" asked another passenger.

“You’re going to need to talk to a gate agent,” the flight attendant said, as patiently as they could. At least they didn’t look worried, which was about the only positive thing Dave could say about the situation. 

The airport was crowded with people trying to get back into the air or onto the highway. The only answer Dave could get to all of his requests for transportation was, “I’m sorry, everything is delayed; you’ll have to wait.”

From the back of the rebooking line, he caught sight of Finn having a conversation with an agent. Even from this distance, Dave could hear Finn’s volume increase with each sentence.

“What do you mean there aren’t any taxis?” he demanded.

Dave tried for the fifteenth time to get a call through to his mom, but kept getting a message that the call couldn’t connect. He sighed, wondering if he should attempt to find a pay phone.

He didn’t get very far, though, before Finn appeared beside him, tugging his arm. "Come on."

"What—" Dave protested, stumbling after him. "Where are we going? I have to pick up my bags.”

“You can’t. They checked them through to Ohio.” Finn grinned. “But I found us a ride to the rental car place. And you'll never guess who's here in Flagstaff!”

Dave followed Finn, frowning as he threaded through the crowd, until suddenly he found himself face to face with yet another familiar face. He blinked. "Uh..."

"Small world," said Blaine, with a sad smile. "Hi, Dave. Finn said you need to rent a car?”

“I do?” Dave looked at Finn, who nodded encouragingly. “I suppose that’s one option. Okay?”

“You're both trying to get back to Lima?"

"That's true, but... I mean, we didn’t…” Dave trailed off as he looked Blaine up and down in confusion. "Why are you dressed like an elf?"

"Hey, at the holiday season, performers are willing to take all kinds of roles to pay the bills." Blaine held up the end of his pointy red velvet cap, giving it a shake. "Trust me, it's better than what I used to have to wear at Six Flags. Seb and I were cast in a Christmas pageant in Vegas. He was supposed to be flying in to meet me here this afternoon, but he didn't show."

"A whole bunch of flights were rerouted,” Finn said. “He might not even be in the air.”

Dave raised an eyebrow. "Seb?"

"Sebastian, my boyfriend. I came to meet him at the airport." Blaine's expression devolved into something even more sad. “But he’s not here.”

Finn nodded sympathetically. “I don’t think that was something he did intentionally, right?”

“No, but it’s making me think twice about my plans. I was going to propose to him, but now... I don't know.”

Dave and Finn exchanged an uneasy glance. "What?" Dave asked.

"I just...." Blaine looked down at his hands. “Things have been rocky with us. And now I can't get through to him on the phone. If I could just hear his voice, I would be able to know if I can trust him.”

“Maybe you could get a phone signal in the parking lot,” Dave suggested.

They walked with Blaine to his car. Dave climbed into the back, deferring the front seat to Finn’s longer legs. While Blaine tried Sebastian, Dave managed to get through to his mom’s voicemail. He left an abbreviated message about having flight delays.

“He’s still not picking up,” Blaine sounded mournful.

“Don’t give up hope yet. Let’s check his flight status.” Finn had his own phone out. “You have the flight number? What’s the airline?”

Blaine did look a little more reassured when it turned out Sebastian’s flight had been rerouted to the Show Low airport, three hours southeast of Flagstaff.

“He’ll be landing in two hours, but it hasn’t been rescheduled,” Blaine noted, reading the notification on their website. “You were right about the weather. I think he’s stuck there.” He sighed. “Now what do I do?”

“Well,” Finn said, looking over his shoulder at Dave, “what about a road trip? It’s in the right direction for us. You can drop us off, then rescue him from the airport?”

“Now, wait a second,” Dave began, but Blaine was already nodding.

“I’d be happy to get you part of the way there,” he said. “Road trip?”

Finn nodded at Dave, indicating with his raised eyebrows for him to agree. Dave sighed. “I guess it’s not the worst option.”

“It’s very generous of you,” Finn insisted, glaring at Dave. “Thank you so much, Blaine.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Dave hastily added.

“So the two of you are traveling together?” Blaine asked politely.

“Oh, no,” said Finn cheerfully, “we just ran into each other in the airport before the plane took off. I didn’t even know Dave was also living in L.A. We haven’t seen each other since—well, I guess since senior year.” His confidence was temporarily curtailed as he hesitated. Dave guessed he was remembering the circumstances of the reason for their meeting, in the hospital after Dave’s attempt.

“I’ve been doing a lot better since then,” Dave assured both of them. “Really, ten years does wonders. Not to mention a lot of therapy.”

“That’s really good to hear,” Blaine said. “What are you doing in Los Angeles, Dave? Are you in the restaurant business like your folks?”

“God, no,” Dave exhaled. “If I never saw another loaf of Italian bread, it would be too soon.”

Finn definitely looked startled. “Your folks own a restaurant?”

Dave nodded. “Casa Lipa. No, I was more than happy enough not to follow in their footsteps. I’m a personal trainer.”

“Huh.” Finn seemed like he wanted to ask more questions, but he just nodded back. “Cool.”

“And I’ve already admitted I’m still a performer.” Blaine jingled the bells on his shirt cuff, looking sheepish. “What about you, Finn?”

“I’m a therapist. Which is a little like being a personal trainer, except instead of building up, my clients are breaking down.” Finn made a little fake drum sting when Dave snorted. “Breaking down barriers, I mean.”

“Of course.” Dave’s lips twisted. “I’ll admit, being a personal trainer in L.A. is more like being a therapist than I ever expected.”

“People,” Blaine sang, “people who need people…” 

“I’m definitely on the side of people needing personal trainers. Considering how well it pays, anyway.” Dave shrugged. “And I don’t have to get up at four-thirty in the morning to receive the day’s produce and meat deliveries.”

“I would vote for staying up until 4:30 AM, not getting up at 4:30 AM,” Finn said. “That would be a positive, not a negative.”

“Six-thirty is prime gym time. I do most of my in-person support between six and eight on weekdays.”

“Okay, then you get to go back to sleep,” Finn countered.

Dave shook his head, grinning. “Then I get to meet with my personal trainer.”

“I don’t see why you need one,” said Blaine, “since you’re already the expert?”

“Doctors have doctors,” Finn pointed out. “And trust me, therapists need therapists. It makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Dave agreed, “trainers understand how hard it is to rely on yourself for the kind of motivation and engagement people need to have a really good workout.”

Finn nodded emphatically as he held out his hand, palm up, and Dave slapped it. “Exactly. You can’t head-shrink yourself.”

Blaine was smiling faintly at them. “Are you sure you guys haven’t secretly been friends all along?”

“Only since kindergarten.” Finn gestured at Dave with his thumb. “First day, he shared his Lunchable with me.”

“Dude.” Dave chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s right. You forgot your lunch box at home. I wasn’t about to let you go hungry on the first day of school.”

Dave decided he wouldn’t say anything about how things had gone later in elementary school, when most days ended in arguments between them, or full-fledged fights on the playground. He guessed, based on the way Finn was looking at him, he hadn’t forgotten any of it.

“I notice neither of us are talking about girlfriends. Or boyfriends.” Finn nudged Blaine’s shoulder. “Sebastian. This is the one from Dalton?”

“Yeah,” Blaine admitted. “After he threw that slushie into my eye, he apologized, and we became friends. When I went to NYADA, he went to NYU, then auditioned and transferred to NYADA a year later. We lived in New York for a while, made our Broadway debut in School of Rock in 2015, but quickly decided we were not really cut out for the breakneck pace of east coast performing.”

“No?” Finn looked fascinated. “What other options are there?”

“Plenty.” Blaine smiled at the road ahead of the car. “The last six years, we’ve been working in Vegas half the year, rock-climbing and RV-ing the other half. Well…” He shrugged. “When he’s not sneaking around on me.”

“Yikes.” Dave grimaced. “Sorry, man.”

“I kicked him out for a while. He apologized, we made up.” Blaine offered Finn a wistful smile. “Maybe we should try therapy.”

“Definitely,” said Finn. “If you really want to make it work, especially after a big breach of trust like that, it helps to have an impartial observer. But I can tell you still love him.”

“Really?” Blaine looked curious. “You can tell that?”

“Well, you’re driving three hours across the desert to pick him up.” Finn touched Blaine’s knee, smiling, and Blaine blushed. “You love him.”

“Yeah,” Blaine said softly. “I do.”

“Then you have to tell him how you feel. Not just about wanting to marry him, but about how you’re willing to work at your relationship, and tell him you want him to work at it, too. It’s the best gift you can give each other.”

Dave jumped as his phone buzzed in his lap. He tore his eyes away from Finn to the screen and read his mother’s text: What’s the status of your flight?

We’re grounded, Dave replied, typing quickly. Driving east toward Albuquerque with— He paused, then went on: with a couple of guys. With luck, we’ll find a rental car in Show Low and keep moving toward Lima.

Oh no. His mother didn’t do emojis, but Dave could hear the dismay in those two words. He sighed.

“Everything okay?” Dave looked up to see Finn watching him in concern.

“Yeah, no problem.” His reaction was immediate, as calm as he could make it. He was pretty sure Finn didn’t buy it, but he also didn’t say anything.

Finn nodded at his phone. “Work or family?”

“Family. My mom. On the positive side, she’s graduated from starting every text with This is your mother.”

Finn laughed. “My mom still doesn’t text. I think her whole staff at the hospital gave up trying to teach her. They just yell really loudly down the hallway.”

Dave’s phone buzzed again. You’re not going to miss Christmas, are you?

If we can find a car, I should still be able to make it home. I’ve got four days.

“Your mom’s a nurse, right?” Blaine was saying. “How’s she doing?”

“Hanging in there,” Finn said. “You know what the economy’s like in Lima, but the hospital’s still running. I guess people will always need nurses.”

Blaine added, very casually, “And how are Kurt and Elliot?”

“Good, as far as I know.” Finn’s voice sounded a little tighter, but Dave couldn’t see his face to interpret the change in tone. “They don’t come back to Lima much.”

“They’re not going to be there for Christmas?” Blaine was shocked.

“Elliot’s Jewish, and Kurt’s an atheist. And it’s a long trip for them from New Orleans.” He sounded very reasonable. “They’ve got their own life.” 

The way Finn was talking seemed to Dave a lot like his own effort to sound calm and unaffected. He didn’t buy it, but he wasn't about to call Finn out on it, either. Finn had just as much right to privacy as he did.

Blaine held up his phone. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not sure I can make it another two and a half hours down I-40 without some music. Okay if I choose something I can sing with? I promise, no show tunes."

"Pick whatever you want,” Finn agreed. “Hey, you don’t happen to have your senior year Glee playlist in there somewhere?"

"You know, I think I might..."

"Oh, god," Dave muttered, slouching deeper into the seat.

“We should include the Zombies' ‘She's Not There.’” Finn was definitely laughing now. "And Single Ladies."

"Dave, you can veto anything you hate," Blaine called into the back seat. "Don't feel like you have to suffer just because we like to sing."

"Hey, I'll just put on my noise-cancelling headphones and ignore you," Dave called back. "Be sure to poke me if anything interesting happens."

Nothing interesting did happen. Driving through the desert might have been incredibly boring, but at least it was more comfortable than flying through turbulence. Dave found himself dozing against the window for most of the next couple of hours. When Blaine stopped for gas, he got out and stretched, checking their flight status and the weather ahead of them.

"Well, I've got good news and bad news," Finn announced when he returned from the gas station.

"Okay," Dave said warily. "Me, too. You go first."

"Good news: the bathroom isn't out of service. Bad news: there aren't any cars to be rented anywhere near Show Low." Finn didn't look anywhere close to discouraged. "I'm going to have to get creative. Okay, your turn."

"Good news? They officially cancelled our flight, which means we get our refund, and we don't have to worry about them rerouting us from Flagstaff."

Finn stuck out his tongue, making a yuck face. "Some good news. What's the bad news?"

"The snowstorm that's between us and Lima." He showed Finn the weather radar on his screen. "It's developing in Colorado and sweeping through the midwest. We're too far south to be hit by it right now, but if we go north toward Ohio, we'll be going right through it."

"Not ideal." Finn frowned, considering the radar as it tracked the storm through several days of forecasts. "No flights heading north at all?"

"Pretty much everything is cancelled or delayed. I'm not seeing anything."

"And how long if we wait it out?"

"Too long. We'd definitely miss Christmas."

Finn thought, tapping his long fingers on the roof of Blaine's car. "Okay. I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, let's see if we can find a thrift store that has clothes we can wear, other than the outfits we have on. And... here." He handed Dave a toothbrush. "One for me, one for you. I got some toothpaste too. So at least I won't be totally offensive."

Dave shook his head. "You're far too optimistic. There’s no way we’ll find a way home before Christmas.”

"And you're giving up too easily," Finn said, pointing at Dave with his packaged toothbrush.

Blaine, still in the front seat, ended his call. Dave looked at his pale, anxious face with unease. "What happened?"

"He said he doesn't want me to come," Blaine said, his voice shaking. "That—he thinks we'd be better off if we just stopped seeing one another."

Dave had no idea what to say, but Finn didn't seem to be deterred. "Did he sound angry?"

"No, just... sad." Blaine sniffed, wiping his eyes. "I guess I just drove all this way for no reason.”

"No way," Finn promised. "You're going to fight for what you want. Is he still at the airport?"

"The airline put him up at a local motel. I have the address." Blaine bit his lip. "What am I going to do, though? He told me no."

"Did he, though? I think he said what he thinks, not how he feels.” Finn crouched down in front of the open car door, looking Blaine steadily in the eye. “Your goal hasn't changed. Don't give up just because you're scared. He still has a right to say no, but he needs to say it to your face, not over the phone in the middle of a crisis.” He pointed at Blaine’s phone. “Come on, let's map that address. We're going to stop and pick up some flowers. Does he like chocolate?"

“Truffles,” Blaine stammered.

"Great. Okay." Finn beckoned him closer. "Let's go over your game plan."

Dave escaped into the gas station while Finn and Blaine strategized. The whole conversation was a little too intense for him to deal with at the moment. While loitering by the headache medicines, he called his mom.

"David." She sounded relieved. "Where are you?"

"I'm in Arizona. We're looking for a way east, but there's a big snowstorm."

“Your dad and I have seen it on the radar. Your sister's already here, and Santana."

Dave paused. "Santana's there? That's—you didn't need to invite her."

“Why not? She’s Dana’s best friend, and she doesn't have any family left in town to visit. I thought you’d be glad to see her. The two of you dated, after all. Say hello, girls."  Dave heard two voices call, "Hey, Dave."

"Mom," Dave sighed, “Santana and I went out one time, to junior prom. We didn't really date. We were friends in high school.” 

"I think she's looking forward to seeing you. Call again after you've made plans for your next leg of travel, David. We love you."

She didn’t leave any opportunity for him to respond, not that he would have had anything else to say. He sighed, shaking his head at the radar. However creative Finn might be, he wasn’t going to be able to change the weather.

Dave felt a light touch on his arm. It happened so suddenly that Dave didn’t have time to react.

“Hey,” said Finn gently. “I’m guessing if things go well with Blaine and Sebastian, he’s not going to want to leave town. I think this might be where we look for another ride.”

Dave nodded slowly. “Any ideas?”

“Actually, yes. There’s a train station in Albuquerque, and a daily train that runs from there to Denver. From Denver, we can get to Chicago. The train’s still running, and with luck, there’ll be buses to take us the rest of the way. It might be slow, but we can get to Lima. ”

Finn sounded almost excited, as though this might be a fun excursion and not a dire emergency. Dave could only shrug. “I guess it’s worth a try?”

“Great!” Finn smiled broadly. “Now all we have to do is get a ride to Albuquerque. That’s a couple of hours northeast of here. I was thinking, if we can find someone who’s making a delivery that way, we can hitch a ride.”

“Deliveries.” Dave thought for a moment. “Maybe I could do something about that. Let me see what I can find out.”

“Awesome!” Finn reached over and squeezed his shoulder. This time, Dave could have pulled away if he’d wanted to, but he let Finn do it. Finn’s enthusiasm somehow made it easier for Dave to accept those casual moments of contact, even if they did feel almost too intimate between people who were nearly strangers.

He sent a text to Rhonda, the general manager of the fitness chain who hosted most of his client meetings. When’s the Wednesday shipment of fruit for the juice bar coming in?

In about an hour and a half, she replied after a few minutes. Why?

Is the timing the same for all the locations?

This time the pause was longer. I would think so.

You got the number for the Albuquerque location?

You’re not going to tell me what this is about, are you? No, don’t answer that. I’ll have him send you a text.

Thanks, Dave said. It’s kind of urgent. And I promise, I’ll explain the whole thing after the new year.

By the time Blaine reached their exit, Dave had an answer he could live with. He cleared his throat and leaned forward from the back seat. “So… it looks like I can get us a ride to Albuquerque. If you don’t mind riding in the back of a delivery truck. He’s going to reroute and pick us up in about forty-five minutes at… let’s see, the Show Low Cafe on White Mountain Road.”

“I totally don’t mind.” Finn’s delighted smile was trained right on him. “That’s perfect! It’ll get us to Albuquerque in plenty of time for us to catch the train to Denver. I’ll call and get us train tickets.” He turned to Blaine. “You can drop us off?”

“Of course I can,” said Blaine, smiling.

“Thanks so much for the ride, man.” When Finn reached over to hug Blaine, Blaine hugged him right back. Dave watched, feeling a pang of envy at the ease with which they interacted. “You’re going to have to let me know how things go with Sebastian.”

“I will,” Blaine promised. “I’m not giving up. I’m going to tell him how I feel.”

The cafe was only a couple of blocks away from the highway exit. They waved as Blaine drove off, still in his elf costume. Dave zipped up his coat, shivering. “We’d better get inside. The temperature’s dropping.”

They got a table and sat across from one another, perusing the menu as the waitress poured their coffee. “I’ll have the fish tacos,” Finn said, handing her his menu.

“That sounds good,” Dave agreed. “Me, too.”

“This might be our last chance to get a real meal, other than whatever they’ll have on the train.”

“I have to say, you’re handling this whole thing really well.” Dave set down his his cup, shaking his head. “You got some secret therapist’s trick for dealing with stress?”

“Deep breathing,” Finn said mock-seriously, but he couldn’t help grinning. “No, really, it’s all an act. I don’t always feel so optimistic. Mostly I don’t know when to quit.”

“I guess that’s one way to do it. If you hadn’t run into Blaine and dragged me along, I’m pretty sure I would have still been sitting in the Flagstaff airport, feeling sorry for myself.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that really gets anybody anywhere. Maybe it’s easier for therapists to feel optimistic because we hear so many sad stories.”

“You could tell me some of them? Or—is that a therapist-client privilege thing?”

Finn shrugged. “As long as you didn’t know who I was talking about, it wouldn’t matter. But you wouldn’t be interested in what my clients want to talk about.”

Dave snorted. “What, is that some comment on my ability to deal with feelings?”

“No, it’s—“ Finn paused, with an awkward chuckle. “I’m… a sex therapist.”

“Oh.” Dave sat back in his chair, staring at Finn.

Finn focused his gaze on the table. “It’s not what you think. Believe me, I had to spend the first six months convincing my mom I wasn’t a glorified prostitute. Mostly I work with individuals on how they feel about sex, intimacy, body image, that kind of thing. Or I teach couples how to talk with one another about sex and what they want from one another.”

Dave tried not to look as embarrassed as he felt by the turn of the conversation. He nodded. “That sounds… important. I bet that would really help people to make their relationships work.”

“Yeah, I’d like to think it does.” Finn gave him a small smile. “They know I’m not going to freak out if they talk about weird stuff. That makes it easier for my clients to open up to me.”

The waitress brought their tacos, and they munched in silence for a while.

“It’s no Tacos Don Manolito,” Dave said, wiping his mouth on his napkin, “but it’s pretty good.”

Finn broke into a smile. “The one on Sunset? That’s my favorite restaurant! I could eat that griddled cheese every day.” After helping himself to another taco, he added, “What made you decide to go into fitness coaching?”

“It was mostly an accident. I was working for Deloitte as an acquisition and contracts management consultant.” He held up a hand when Finn wrinkled his nose. “You don’t have to know what that is. I got hired in Columbus and transferred to LA. Even before I was transferred, I hated my job. Apparently I made an impression when I showed up every day at the fitness center where I ended up getting hired. My manager, Rhonda, said she liked my style, that I wasn’t starstruck by the actors and producers who worked out there, too? Anyway, she said I could make as much as I was making for Deloitte if I was willing to come every day like that. So she hired me, and I developed my client roster using their program. They’ve got this whole focus on nutrition and flexibility over dieting and bulk.”

“Well, you look really good,” Finn said with enthusiasm.

Dave grinned at Finn’s complete lack of artifice. “Thanks.”

“I go to the gym, but whatever.” Finn made a noncommittal gesture. “Nothing like what you’ve got going on.”

“I’m definitely in better condition than I’ve ever been, even if I’m not playing any sports.” He added, “You know, you might want to watch what you say to guys like me.”

Finn’s smile vanished. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying, if you were gay, that totally would have been perceived as flirting.”

“Oh.” He relaxed as his smile returned. “Whatever. I thought I was being offensive. Some people don’t like to hear any comments about their body.”

“I’d definitely be in the wrong career if that were true,” Dave pointed out, and Finn laughed. “Turns out I really wasn’t cut out for an office job. I’m lucky I was in the right place to take advantage of Rhonda’s offer.”

“That is lucky,” Finn agreed. “So are your clients really, like, movie stars?”

Dave shrugged. “If they are, I don’t bring it up. I figure they need at least one place in their life where they don’t have to be in the spotlight.”

Finn nodded, looking pleased. “That’s very decent of you.”

The bell jingled on the door as it opened, and a older man in a uniform cap entered, glancing around. “Dave Karofsky?”

“That’s me,” Dave said, waving.

“Sorry to rush you, but I’m on a schedule.” He gestured for them to follow. “I’m driving the truck out front.”

Finn hastily wiped his mouth. “Go on, I’ll pay for this, and be out in a second.”

The truck turned out to be too full of crates of berries and mangoes for anybody to sit in the cargo area, but the driver made space for them on the bench seat. Dave watched dubiously as Finn climbed in first, digging in the seat for the seatbelt buckle.

“It’ll be tight,” said the driver, looking a little annoyed.

“We’ll be fine,” Finn assured him.

Climbing in beside him, Dave felt more awkward than he had at any point that day. He made an effort to try to put some space between his leg and Finn’s, but every time the van turned a corner, Finn ended up practically in Dave’s lap.

“Sorry,” Dave muttered.

“Dude,” Finn said, grinning. “Didn’t we already have this conversation? It doesn’t bother me.”

It was another long drive, made longer by the fact that the truck driver smelled heavily of cigarette smoke and listened to Christian rock the whole way into Albuquerque. They also ran into some traffic backups on the highway, which made Finn even more antsy.

“We have a train to catch,” Finn insisted.

The driver glared at him. “Sorry, but it’s not like I can do anything about it.”

It was close enough to what Dave had been thinking earlier that he felt a little ashamed. He nudged Finn’s knee. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’ll find another way if we miss the train.”

Finn nodded. Then he gave Dave a smile, one which seemed a little less anxious and a little more relieved. “Thanks.”

Dave wasn’t sure when it had gone from I to we in his head, but he definitely was thinking it now. He and Finn, improbably, were figuring this crisis out together.

When they finally arrived on the outskirts of Albuquerque, according to Dave’s watch, it was already time for their train to be boarding. The driver brought them to the train station anyway—just in time for them to see the train pulling in alongside the station.

“That’s it!” Finn shouted, pointing. He gave Dave a shove toward the door. “Come on, if we run for it, we can make it. Thanks for the ride!”

“Don’t mention it,” the driver called, as Dave and Finn tumbled out the door of the truck. “Hope you make it home!”

They ran right through the parking lot to where the train was already beginning to slowly pull away. “Wait!” Finn called, waving a hand to the conductor, who gave them a startled look, then held out his hand to help them climb aboard. Finn scrambled up the stairs, then turned to give Dave a hand into the moving train. They stood on the platform, breathing hard, then looked at each other and started laughing at the same time.

“We made it!” Dave exclaimed.

“What’s your reason to be on this train?” the conductor asked, clearly bemused. “I didn’t expect there to be any passengers, other than the handler.”

“We bought our tickets at the last minute,” Finn explained, but Dave was looking around at their surroundings, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“What handler?” he asked.

“For the animals.” The conductor sighed. “I think you must have boarded the wrong train. This is the one heading to Houston.”

“To Houston?” Finn yelped. He went for the door, but the conductor held him back. “We want to go to Chicago!”

“Nothing’s going to Chicago, son, not in that storm that’s brewing. And we’re not stopping again until tomorrow morning.” He frowned. “I suppose you can stay in the cargo car.”

“What animals?” Dave insisted.

“They’re being transported to the Houston Zoo. Some zoo closed out west, I think, and they’re taking them in. Two okapi, and some smaller animals, I can’t remember what.” The conductor opened the door as the train rattled and shook around them. “You want to see them?”

Finn looked at Dave, who said, “I mean… yeah, if you’re going to let us?”

The conductor gave him a tired smile. “You’re already not supposed to be on the train in the first place. I think taking a peek at the animals isn’t going to make things any worse.”

The okapi were like a cross between a giraffe and a zebra. Dave was a little surprised to find them grazing on fodder and stamping in the straw bedding as though they were a couple of cows. One of them made a bleating noise that made Finn take an alarmed step back.

“I have literally never heard of this animal.” Dave leaned on the wall, watching them gaze back at him with their dark eyes, and smiled. “Cool. What else is there?”

“I think the rest are all in crates. Probably a good thing.” The conductor closed the door again, making sure it was fastened securely, then beckoned them to follow him. “I think we can find you a place to ride, but I can’t promise it’s going to be very warm. Maybe we have some extra blankets.”

Thankfully, they didn’t have to bunk with the okapi, or any of the other animals, but the conductor was right when he said the cargo car wasn’t very warm. Dave sat on the floor next to the piles of boxes, and Finn sat beside him. He was shivering in his brown jacket.

“Colder than L.A.,” Finn noted, chafing his hands together.

“It’s not too bad. You want my coat?”

“No,” Finn protested, “I already have a coat. And anyway, then you’d be cold.”

Dave watched Finn avoiding his eyes. “Hey,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You got us on the train, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s the wrong one.” Finn hunched over his knees.

“We’re heading east, right? I mean, we’re not going to, like, Oregon or something, are we?” Dave poked Finn, who smiled despite himself. “That’s kind of in the right direction.”

“Yeah,” Finn shrugged.

“Yeah. We’ll get there in the morning, or—whenever we get there.” Dave decided he wasn’t going to worry about how slow the train was likely going, and went on. “And then we’ll figure out where to go from there. Okay?”

Finn nodded again. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I guess I’d better call my mom. She’s going to be worrying.”

“That’s a good idea.” Dave reached into his own coat for his phone, then tried his outside pockets, then tried them all again. “Oh… shit. My phone is gone.”

“Oh, no.” Finn stared at him in horror. “Maybe you left it in the truck?”

“I can’t believe I lost it.” He stood up to rummage through every pocket once more, but his phone was nowhere to be found. Dave swallowed. “Can I use yours when you’re done calling your mom?”

“Of course.” Finn held it out. “You can go first, if you want.”

“No, it’s… my mom’s just a worrier.” He pushed it back to Finn. “Go ahead. Call her.”

Dave tried not to listen in, but it was clearly not going to be possible not to hear something, no matter how quietly Finn spoke. As it happened, he spoke in a regular voice, not attempting to hide anything. “Mom, Dave and I are on a train heading east. No, it’s not the train I thought I was going to be on, but it’s going in the right direction. Kind of.” He rubbed his forehead, leaving a dark smear of dirt there. “We're okay. Well, it's already been a long trip. I don't know. I don't know that either." He glanced up at Dave. "Mom, Dave needs to use my phone. He lost his, I don't know where. Okay. Yeah, I will, in the morning. Love you too." He handed his phone to Dave. "Here."

"Thanks." It felt extra awkward to be holding Finn's phone. Looking at the cracked corner and the smudges on the screen was like noticing aspects of Finn's life to which he hadn't been introduced, but that were still visible. Finn's own flaws, laid bare, were too intimate for Dave to be holding in his hands. He dialed his mother's number and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" she said doubtfully.

"Mom, it's Dave," he said. "I'm using a friend's phone. Mine is lost."

"Oh, David." She sighed. "On top of everything else, really? You don't need to deal with that."

"Tell me about it." He glanced around the cargo car, feeling the rattle of the track beneath him, and found himself grinning. "But we're on the train, heading east? And you'll never guess who our neighbors are."

“Probably not. Who's we?"

"Me, and—" He paused, trying to figure out why it was so hard to bring up Finn to his mother. He shook it off. "It's Finn Hudson, from high school."

"He's the friend you've been traveling with?" His mother laughed in surprise. "I didn't know you'd stayed in touch."

"We haven't. We didn't. He—we both ended up in L.A., and we ran into each other at the airport. It was just a coincidence." Dave could see Finn watching him, and added, "Lucky thing, too, because Finn's been totally instrumental in getting us this far."

Finn's smile looked surprised, but definitely pleased. Dave's mom said, "Well, I'm glad he had a phone. We're just making a batch of cookies. Do you want to say hello to anybody else?"

"I shouldn't talk too long, since we can't charge this phone and it's the only one we have?" Dave hoped that sounded like a good enough excuse. "Tell Dad I'll help shovel when I get home."

"All right, David. Please be safe, and call us in the morning when you get to wherever you're going. We love you."

"Love you too, mom." Dave turned off his phone and tucked it into the inner pocket of his coat.

"That was nice of you," Finn told him, still smiling. “What you said.”

"Yeah, well, it was true. You're the one who's done all the work."

"No way. You got us to Albuquerque." Finn shuffled uncomfortably on the cargo blanket the conductor had given them. "I guess we'd better get some sleep."

"It would be warmer if we were in the same car as the okapi."

Finn shot him an incredulous look. "That was a joke, right?"

"Yeah, it was a joke. Christmas stories notwithstanding, I don't think it would be super sanitary to sleep in a manger."

There wasn't going to be any option that was super comfortable, but Dave made a tall enough pile of the unused cargo blankets to shield them from the worst of the chill. He rested against the box beside him, wondering exactly how much warmth to offer to Finn, who was definitely shivering now, and finally shrugged out of his coat. Finn stared at him as he held it out.

"Look, you're not going to sleep very well anyway. I think we should trade off."

"You mean... I take it for a couple of hours, then you take it, like that?" Finn didn't sound exactly happy about this plan, but he nodded.

"One of the advantages of working out as often as I do is that I run kind of hot." He snickered at the way Finn's wrists protruded from the ends of his sleeves. “Looks like your hands aren’t going to be warm no matter what you do. There are gloves in the inside pocket."

"You really don't have to do this," Finn said. He had already stopped shivering.

"Hey, I'll keep my hat. You've got more hair than I do."

Finn chuckled, settling against the box beside him. "Burt checks every time I go home to see if my hair's getting thin yet. Every time, he tells me how he lost his hair before he was thirty."

"How's he doing? I mean..." Dave hesitated. "I see him on television sometimes, and he looks fine, but... my dad said his cancer came back again?” He wasn’t sure if his dad had been meant to know that, but it seemed silly to pretend he didn’t.

"It's been in remission for a couple of years now. More than a couple." Finn thought for a minute, then he shrugged. "Yeah. He's doing okay."

"That's good news."

Finn didn't respond. He wasn't smiling, either.

"Finn?"

"How about we get some sleep?" Finn said. "I mean, if you can, without this magically warm jacket. I'm seriously buying one for myself when I get to Lima."

Dave nodded, smiling. "Okay."

Finn closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and relaxing. "'Night, Dave."

"Good night," Dave replied.

He dozed for a while, waking occasionally when the train whistle blew or they went around a curve, but Finn didn't appear to stir. Dave didn't wake him up, even when he got a little chilly after all. It didn't seem right to disturb him as long as he was able to get some sleep.

At some point, however, Dave apparently did drift off to sleep, because when he woke up again, the train wasn't moving. The emergency light was still on above them, but he could also see daylight through the cracks in the door, and he thought he could hear voices.

"Finn," he said, giving him a gentle nudge, then a more solid push. "Hey. Dude."

"Ummm." Finn slowly rolled his head to the side, wincing, and opened his eyes a crack. "What is it?"

"We've stopped." Dave sat up, listening around them. "I think we should—"

The door opened, not the one on the end of the car through which they'd entered, but the large one on the side of the car. It slid open, revealing two young men in coveralls. They definitely looked surprised to find Dave and Finn there.

"Last stop on the cargo line," said the one with red hair. "You guys have to get out."

"Did you ride in here all night?" said the other one with glasses. "That's hard core."

"It wasn't exactly intentional." Dave let the guy with glasses help him down from the car to the ground. "The conductor let us sleep here, but... we're trying to get to Ohio."

"Well, you're not there now." The redhead glared at them. "This is Texas.”

"Are we at the zoo?" Dave couldn't help but look around.

"That's where we're taking the animals." The guy in glasses looked up at Finn as he climbed down. Finn’s hair was sticking up on one side, and he still had a smudge on his face, but he still looked like Finn. "I'm Brian. This is Ollie."

"Finn," he said. "That's Dave. You guys are... zookeepers?"

"We handle the large land mammals." Ollie didn't exactly look like he was interested in having a conversation, but Brian smiled.

"Where are you guys headed now?"

"That's a good question." Finn was taking off Dave's jacket. "We could use a bus stop? Or is there a passenger train leaving from here?"

"Not this week there ain't. It’s Christmas.” Brian unloaded a stack of boxes, passing them to Ollie one at a time. "Bus, that's easier. We can drop you off at the station?”

"That would be great." Finn smiled back at Brian. Dave watched Brian's response to Finn's smile, and the way Ollie was watching him, too.

"Can we give you a hand with these boxes?" Dave offered. "Seems like it'd speed things up with four instead of two."

Ollie's frown thawed a little. "That'd be right decent of you."

Finn didn't object to Dave volunteering him for labor. They made short work of the stack of boxes, unloading them from the train and stacking them in the middle compartment of their trailer. The back of the trailer appeared to be set up to house a horse or two.

"This is for the okapi?" Dave asked.

"They'll go in the left stall," Brian said. "We'll load the crated animals in next. You can sit this one out if you want; they can be kind of messy."

"I'm game if you are," Finn said to Dave.

Dave was already taking off his coat, setting it inside the front of their truck. "I already need a shower. I don't think hauling around a couple of animals is going to hurt."

The animals in crates turned out to include a heavily sedated porcupine, a cage of three naked mole rats, and a large Komodo dragon. The handlers referred to by the train conductor didn't even notice that Dave and Finn weren't part of the zoo's staff.

"Careful," said the handler to Finn, looking anxious as they loaded his crate onto the dolly. "His spines are very fragile."

Finn hung back as Ollie and Brian led the okapi down the ramp, but Dave asked, "Can I pet one?"

"I don't think—" said Brian doubtfully, but the handler nodded.

"They're still a little drugged from last night's trip," she told them. "You're not in any danger."

Dave carefully rested a hand on the flank of the smaller okapi. Its fur was slick and shiny, shorter than he’d expected. He could feel it twitch under his hand.

"Wow," he murmured to the animal's watchful eye. "I think this would have been a bucket list item long ago, if I'd even known you existed."

By the time they were done moving the cargo, both living and nonliving, Ollie looked significantly less combative. "If you come back to the zoo with us, you can grab a shower," he told Finn.

"Oh, wow." Finn nodded enthusiastically. "I am all about that."

"I'll check the bus schedule heading out of Houston," Dave said.

It wasn't encouraging. While Brian drove the trailer across town from the train station to the zoo, Dave and Finn looked at dismay at the Greyhound routes.

"Twenty-two hours to Nashville?" Finn said, blanching. "I could drive it in a quarter of the time, if I had a car."

Houston's rental car situation wasn't any better than it had been out west. They checked several websites, but there didn't appear to be a car to rent anywhere in the city.

"All the flights are still delayed," Finn said. "I'm going to have to extend my search outside of Texas, but not until I can charge my phone. You want to call your mom first?"

"Maybe just a text." Dave accepted Finn’s phone into his hands. "She'd ask me a million questions about the animals. I'd better finish up with the zoo before I talk to her about it."

Brian maneuvered the long trailer into a parking area of the Houston Zoo. While Ollie managed the unloading of the animals, Brian showed them to the locker room adjacent to a bank of showers, where Finn plugged in his phone to charge.

"It's amazing how many showers you need to take when you work at a zoo," he said, grinning. "There's towels in that cabinet. You want some coveralls?"

"You mean instead of these clothes, which I've worn for over forty hours? Sold." Dave accepted a pair of coveralls from Brian, who handed another pair to Finn, then closed the door, leaving them alone in the locker room.

Dave had a brief moment to panic when he realized Finn was going to strip in front of him, but he talked himself down before he managed to make a big deal about it. After all, he thought, not looking at Finn's slim frame as they exchanged places in the shower, we used to do this in the locker room all the time in high school. He’s just another guy.

“I never thought I’d say this,” Finn said, zipping his coveralls up to his neck, “but there’s something awesome about wearing a uniform to work.”

“You don’t have to think about what you’re going to wear,” Dave acknowledged. “My track suit is kind of like a uniform. I’ve got three of them, and I rotate them through the wash.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “A track suit. Like Sue Sylvester?”

Dave burst out laughing. “Dude, I haven’t thought about her in years. Yeah, I guess like that.”

“Well, this is a lot easier to deal with than picking the right sweater.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but remained quiet, finger-combing through his hair as he regarded himself soberly in the mirror.

“Somehow I doubt the animals are going to care how your hair looks,” Dave said, watching him.

Finn met his eyes in the mirror. Then he made a face like a monkey, scratching himself under his arms, and Dave snorted.

Brian joined them outside the locker room. He looked them up and down, grinning. “You guys look like proper zookeepers.”

“We really appreciate your help, and the shower and everything,” Finn said. “I don’t think the bus option’s going to work out for us, though. It’s a really long ride to Nashville.”

“Well, the weather’s going to slow you down if you try to go north from here,” Brian said. “You might do better to head east, then north. Get ahead of that storm front, maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Dave said. “There’s a train going north from New Orleans that’s still running.”

Finn shuffled his feet. “Um. Kurt and Elliot live in New Orleans. My stepbrother and his husband,” he added, for Brian’s benefit.

“But we’d still have to get there,” Dave said.

Brian nodded thoughtfully. “I might have a lead on something you could drive, if you guys are willing to spend a little cash.”

“Cash isn’t the problem. Whatever ideas you’ve got, I’ll consider.” When Finn bestowed that dazzling smile on Brian again, he actually blushed.

“Dude,” Dave murmured, nudging him as Brian headed back toward the parking lot. “You can’t do that to gay guys.”

“Oh, I didn’t—“ Finn looked nonplussed. “How do you know he’s gay?”

“Well, whatever he is, he’s definitely into you.”

Finn was silent, walking beside Dave as they walked after Brian. He didn’t say anything else for a while, until finally he shoved his hands into the pockets of the coveralls and sighed.

“I really didn’t mean to.”

“Mean to what?” asked Dave.

“To flirt with him. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“No, I know. You’re just that way. Friendly. Like you’re just saying exactly what you think, and everything you feel shows on your face.” Dave looked at him until he looked away. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“No, but I should at least know how other people see it. See me.” Finn looked more than distraught. It was like he was giving up. Seeing that expression on his face made Dave’s chest feel tight.

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Dave promised. “Being engaging and charming and… it’s how you’ve always been.”

“Yeah,” Finn sighed. He rubbed his eyes. “Sorry… I’m tired.”

Brian had disappeared into the office, leaving Ollie standing in the doorway, holding a clipboard. He nodded at the two of them.

“Is Brian doing something for you?”

“I think so,” Dave said.

“Fine.” Ollie’s lips thinned. “I guess I’d better do the feeding. You want to come along?”

“I—really?” Dave grinned, but when he turned to Finn and saw his reluctance, his enthusiasm ebbed. “I mean… we should really get going soon.”

“No, you go,” Finn said, waving at him. “I’ll wait here until Brian’s done with whatever he’s looking into. Enjoy the, you know. The animals.”

Dave didn’t wait for a second invitation. He turned to Ollie, nodding. “Where first?”

They started with the elephants. Feeding animals of this size was both amusing and mesmerizing. Dave watched the young elephant pick up an enormous trunkful of hay, attempt to stuff it into his mouth, and miss, and laughed for about thirty seconds straight.

“Bring it over here,” Ollie called, as Dave emerged from the truck with another bale of hay.

“How did you know you wanted to be a zookeeper?” he asked Ollie.

Ollie managed to brush his curly red hair out of his face without using his hands. “Well, I grew up on a farm north of Houston, but my dad had to sell most of it before I finished high school to pay the bills. I could have gone and worked for my uncle’s farm, but I decided to move to the city instead. This way I could keep working with the animals.”

Dave nodded. “You like animals.”

He shrugged. “Animals are easier than people. Where are you guys from?”

“Los Angeles,” Dave said, and Ollie’s eyes got big. “But we grew up in a little town in Ohio.”

Ollie stacked the next bale in the feeding trough, making sure the larger elephant had access to it before breaking the string holding it together. “Los Angeles,” he said, almost reverently. “Where do you work?”

“I’m a personal trainer at a gym.”

“What about him?” Ollie’s eyes indicated the office where Finn was likely sitting in a chair and dozing. Dave found himself grinning.

“He’s, uh, a therapist.”

“You guys are a long way from home.”

“Sometimes I think animals are easier than people, too,” Dave said quietly. “But people get easier, the older you get. What are you, twenty-five?”

“Twenty-two.” Ollie watched the baby elephant duck underneath its mother.

“You going home for Christmas?”

Ollie shook his head. “There ain’t nobody at home who wants to see me.”

Dave nodded again. “I know that feeling. For what it’s worth, it’s probably not true? I mean, I bet your mom wants to see you even if—“ He hesitated before finishing, “Even if you’re gay, like me.”

Ollie kicked at the straw on the ground, his face sullen. “Yeah, but it’s different for you. Big city, fancy job.”

“Houston’s a big city,” Dave pointed out.

“You’ve got a boyfriend,” Ollie shot back.

“Oh, uh.” Dave laughed, as Ollie’s expression got angrier. “Finn’s not my boyfriend. We’re not together.”

He wasn’t sure why it was important for Ollie to understand that, considering how brief their interaction was likely to be, but Ollie nodded, looking confused. “But—“ he began, then stopped.

“What about you and Brian?” Dave asked.

“Shit, no,” Ollie blurted, stepping back. “Beg your pardon. No, he’d never.”

“Oh, yeah, he would.” Dave nodded when Ollie stared at him. “I would say you should give it a try.”

“But he’s—“ Ollie began again, then swore again under his breath. “Come on. The ankole are next.”

Ankole turned out to be big cows with horns that were comically big for their bodies, like they were wearing huge viking helmets on their tiny brown heads. Dave stayed well out of the way of their swinging horns.

“For a while, I thought I wanted to be a veterinarian,” Dave told Ollie. “Because I like animals, and I’m good at math and science. I figured being a doctor would be what I wanted to do, but for animals. But I decided it wasn’t very practical.”

“You went to college?” When Dave nodded, Ollie considered this. “What did you study instead?”

“Business. My parents own a restaurant, and I guessed I’d be handling it someday.”

“You mean they told you you would,” Ollie said, knowingly. Dave nodded. “But you ain’t. You moved away. How come? Because you’re gay?”

Dave wouldn’t have said yes ten minutes ago, but he had to shrug. “Maybe. I never… I mean, my mother doesn’t know about me.”

“I bet she does know.” Ollie grinned at him. “Even if she ain’t never told you she does. Even if you ain’t never said about you. Mamas know about their kids.”

It was an unsettling thought. “She’s still trying to set me up with the girl I dated for like five minutes in high school, though.”

“Well, that ain’t never going to work,” Ollie snorted, and Dave laughed. Ollie pointed across to another exhibit. “Bongo next.”

Bongo were brown striped antelopes. They had the same deep eyes as the okapi. Dave found himself talking quietly to them under his breath as he carefully measured their feed into the trough in their enclosure. It was a calming process.

They fed all the animals, then headed back to the office. When they arrived, Finn was back to his usual enthusiastic self.

“We got a van!” he exclaimed.

“What?” Dave looked in confusion at Brian, who grinned.

“Retired zoo truck,” Brian specified. “It’s not fancy, but they agreed to give it to you cheap, and it drives, kind of. It’ll get you the six hours to New Orleans, anyway. And then the train, hopefully, it runs all the way through to Chicago, but you’d just get off in Indianapolis and—“

“Yeah, yeah, we can figure it out. That’s fantastic!” Dave broke into a big smile, the kind he hardly ever found himself making for any reason, and bumped Finn with his shoulder.

“Dude,” Finn said, wrinkling his nose at Dave. “You need another shower.”

Dave and Ollie looked at one another and laughed. “That’s fair. I’ll do that, and put on a pair of clean coveralls, if your zoo doesn’t mind us borrowing them…”

“I think they can manage,” Ollie agreed. He high-fived Dave. “This fella did your job for you, Bri. We fed all the animals.”

“Oh, hey, thanks!” said Brian in obvious relief. “There’s some teamwork.”

Once Dave had his second shower, there wasn’t much more for Dave and Finn to do. They shook hands with Brian and Ollie.

“Tell us how it works out,” Ollie said to Dave, handing him a piece of paper. “You and your mama. That’s my number. Can I get yours?”

“Oh… yeah.” Dave nodded, feeling suddenly shy, but he scribbled his own number and address on the bottom of the paper, then ripped it off and handed it back to Ollie. He added, “You might let me know, too?”

“Maybe.” Ollie gave Brian a sidelong look before shrugging, and held up his crossed fingers.

“What was that about?” Finn asked Dave as they climbed into the van.

“He just… we talked. He had some advice for me.”

Finn looked desperately curious, but he only nodded. “I hope it was good advice.”

“I think it was. Maybe I’ll even follow it.” Dave watched Finn insert the key into the ignition, trying all the knobs and settings. “You remember how to drive?”

“Hope so.” Finn grinned as he shifted into drive. “I’ve never driven something this big before, but I bet I can figure it out.”

The van wasn’t quiet by any means, but it did seem to be running. It was also chilly. Dave eyed Finn, shivering in the driver’s seat, and sighed. “Hang on.”

Finn put on the brake and waited, confused, as Dave removed his coat. When he handed it over, Finn shook his head, protesting, “No, I’m fine.”

“Just take it,” Dave insisted. “Your jacket still sucks. I promise I’ll tell you if I get cold.”

Finn looked like he wanted to argue, but he took the coat and put it on. “Can you navigate?”

“I think we need to pick up a car charger for your phone, since it’s our only link to the outside world. Did you tell Kurt we’re coming?”

Finn didn’t answer at first. Finally he said, “Maybe we don’t need to bother them.”

“Dude.” Dave stared at him. “We’re going to be in the same city where your stepbrother lives and you’re not going to—“

“We haven’t talked in a long time,” Finn interrupted. He sighed, releasing the parking brake. “This is stupid. How about we drive and talk. Can you tell me the way to the highway?”

“Turn left up here. We’re going to follow 288 north to I-10.” Dave tried not to feel stung. “Some therapist, saying it’s stupid to talk about something?”

“No, I don’t mean—“ Finn shook his head. “I mean, I’m being stupid. More specifically, I’m avoiding conflict because I’m scared to deal with it, on top of all the other things that are going on.” He took a deep breath and accelerated onto the onramp. “So, yeah.”

“You think Kurt… what? That he doesn’t want to see you?” Dave blinked. “I really can’t imagine that he would ever feel like that.”

“It’s complicated. There’s stuff that happened.”

Dave waited, but when that was all Finn said, he chuckled. “Really? Stuff that happened? Come on, man, you’ve got to give me more than that.” Then he added, “I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me.”

Finn nodded. “Thanks.” He blinked hard. “Is it… okay if we talk about something else?”

“Yeah, of course.” Dave turned in his seat to face him more directly, feeling a little abashed. “So… uh, why did you move to L.A.? You said grad school, right?”

“It was, but I was already there. Puck went right after we got out of high school. When he found out I was failing most of my classes, he threatened to come back to town and move into my dorm room. That was enough to get me to go to class. We kind of helped each other long distance, to stay focused on our tasks: me on finishing undergrad, him on writing and pitching screenplays.” He smiled. “He talked me out of going back to high school to volunteer in Glee club, too. Said I needed to move on.”

“Was he right?”

“Yeah, I think so. I didn’t need any more McKinley in my life. That place was pretty toxic, even for me. When I finished my teaching degree, we discussed together what we wanted to do, and why? And when he asked me to move to L.A. that time, I said yes.”

Dave thought about Noah Puckerman, the kind of person he remembered him being. It wasn’t somebody who was supportive and helped people plan for the future, but he supposed people could change. “Is he still there?”

“Oh, yeah,” Finn said, with a surprised nod. “We share a house. Saves both of us a lot of money. He doesn’t come back to Lima anymore, not since his mom remarried and moved to Taos, but it’s okay. You know, when I tell him about this adventure, he’s probably going to want to turn it into a screenplay.”

“Sure, whatever, man. He can knock himself out.” Dave had to wonder what else was safe to ask, if he was avoiding talking about Kurt. “So you’ve got work, and you said you like that. What else have you got going? Hobbies? You dating anybody?”

“Who even has time for dating these days? Work keeps me pretty busy.” Finn checked the rear view mirror. “How’s your sister? What’s her name again?”

“Dana. She’s having a baby.” When Finn smiled, he smiled back. “It’s a little weird. She’s still my little sister, even though she’s an adult now. And she’s not married or anything, she’s doing it on her own.”

“Whoa.” Finn looked stunned.

“Yeah, she’s like that, though. She just decides she’s going to do something and then goes for it.”

“Well, I’m happy in my life,” Finn announced. “It’s full and busy. I’m not interested in, like, dating someone just for the sake of it.”

Dave sat back a little. “Well, ideally you find someone with similar interests, you know?”

“I guess. Seriously, I don’t get much down time.” He huffed. “I’m not going to apologize for making my clients a priority.”

“No, I get it.” Finn’s overreaction made him wonder, but Dave had already told Finn he didn’t have to talk about it. It wasn’t like it was any of Dave’s business. “I mean, obviously I’m doing the same thing.”

Finn nodded. “Right.” He drummed his hand on the steering wheel. “Of course, if I were talking to one of my clients, I’d be thinking he’s keeping himself busy, so he doesn’t have to make time for things he actually wants.”

“Hmph.” Dave smothered his smile. “Maybe you should be following your own advice.”

“Maybe,” Finn agreed. “I’m a good therapist.”

“I bet you are.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “But, like I said, therapists make crappy clients. You know what, I’m hungry. How about we stop and pick up some sandwiches, along with that charging cable?”

“Sounds good to me.” Dave appreciated the opportunity to stop talking about difficult and mysterious topics, but it was hard to leave the conversation like that, especially with Finn looking so unsettled. “You know, even if you know you could do better, that doesn’t mean you’re not doing pretty well. I mean, you’re going through this whole ordeal, just so you can be home for the holidays.”

“Well…” Finn gave him a sad smile. “Maybe I’m just too scared to be by myself at this time of year.”

The van was making some unpleasant thumping noises, not that Dave would have known anything about what they meant. They found a charging cable at the gas station, as well as an old-fashioned tape-to-headphone jack connector. While Finn filled up the gas tank, Dave bought two sandwiches, as well as some of the least horrendous snacks he could find in the convenience store.

On the way back to the van, he could hear Finn talking on the phone to someone. Dave could also tell he was crying.

“… how long it’s going to be like this?” He sniffed. “I wouldn’t want to bring it up. That’s, like, adding insult to injury. … That’s only because he wouldn’t—” He looked up and met Dave’s eyes. “We’re heading out, mom. I’ll call you when we get there. Thanks. Love you.”

Dave offered a halfhearted shrug as he handed Finn his sandwich. “It’s not my mother’s cooking, but we can pretend.” He paused. “I don’t think you’d appreciate me being extra-cheerful to distract you from what you’re dealing with.”

“Not really,” Finn agreed, his voice wobbly.

“Well, how about I drive, so you can eat, and call Kurt, and then we’ll trade places.”

Finn’s smile softened. “Last time you said we’d trade places, I think you let me sleep the whole night.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m not so reliable.” He held out his hand. “Keys.”

Finn handed them over, then walked around to the passenger side, buckling himself in without a word. While Dave drove, he sat there, eating his mediocre sandwich without complaining. Then he dialed a number and put his phone to his ear, clearing his throat.

“Kurt, it’s Finn,” he said. “I figured you wouldn’t answer, but… I’m driving east from Houston right now, heading toward New Orleans. We’ll be there in about six hours. I didn’t mean to be visiting you on this trip, but I’m in the area, and I could use your help. And…” His breath hitched. “And I really miss you, and I don’t like not talking to you. Can you please call me back? Please. Any time.”

Into the silence, Dave said, “Well, that’s done. How about some music? That tape deck connector will hook up to your phone.”

“It’s okay,” Finn said.

“I wouldn’t be annoyed if you wanted to sing—“

“I don’t sing,” Finn snapped. “Not anymore.”

After a pause, Dave nodded. “Yeah, I thought I remembered that from riding in the car with Blaine. You listened to him singing, but you weren’t singing along.”

Finn sighed. “I thought you were asleep.”

“For part of it.” Dave glanced across the van at Finn, sitting alone in the other bucket seat. “We could play music and not sing?”

“Sure.” Finn sounded tired, but he thumbed through his phone until he found something he was apparently willing to tolerate, then plugged into the tape deck connector. The sound of Burl Ives’ Christmas album filled the van.

“Now that’s an oldie.” Dave cocked his head at Finn. “I didn’t think you celebrated Christmas.”

“I said Kurt doesn’t. My mom always did, even though we didn’t go to church very often. This is one of her favorite record albums. We’d listen to this album while we decorated the tree, and then we’d read ’Twas the Night Before Christmas, and then…” He hunched hs shoulders. “She and Burt are probably going to have to do it without me this year.”

“No way,” Dave promised. “We still have two days. We totally can get you there in time. Especially with this awesome van.”

Finn smiled, a full-fledged Finn Hudson smile, this time focused on Dave. It was hard not to quiver.

“You’re being really patient with me,” Finn said. “I’m sorry I’m being so whiny.”

“I promise, you’re not. And if you do get whiny, I’ll tie you to the top and make you be the hood ornament.”

That was absurd enough to make Finn laugh. “Deal.”

True to his word, Finn didn’t sing along, not even to the really familiar songs that even Dave knew by heart. He did watch Dave while he sang, though, his face full of complicated emotions he wasn’t sharing.

“You’ve got a nice voice,” Finn said. He sounded a little surprised.

“Hey, I sang in Glee club for one week, remember? I can carry a tune. Just because I don’t have aspirations past the shower doesn’t mean I can’t sing.”

“No, I—“ Finn was abashed. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t—“

Dave laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not mad. There’s a whole bunch of things I’m good at.”

Too late, he realized how that sounded. He turned back to the road with an awkward chuckle. “Uh…”

“I’m sure that’s true.” Finn wasn’t quite smiling, but he was glancing over at Dave every few seconds, like he was curious about what those things might be. “Everybody has hidden talents, but I think in your case… like, I don’t really know you very well. Or I didn’t, before this week. And now…”

“Now you know me better than you ever wanted to,” said Dave.

“More like I never expected to want to know you again. You and Kurt were kind of friends, right? But you and me… after elementary school, I figured that was it. I didn’t think you wanted to know me.”

Dave ran a hand along the fake leather of the steering wheel. “I think if I had, I wouldn’t have known how to tell you back then. Especially not in high school. I was a real asshole for a while there.”

“Because you were gay?” Finn was still taking little looks at him.

“That was part of it, for sure. I was stuck being somebody I wasn’t, and I felt trapped, and the only way I could break out of it was to push everything over that crossed my path. There wasn’t anything in my life that was for me. My mom was always at the restaurant, and my dad dealt with everything going on at school. When I made my first suicide attempt, he—“

“First attempt?” Finn echoed. He put his hand to his mouth. “Jesus.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t a good year,” Dave said softly. “My dad handled all my mental health stuff, got me into therapy, but it was a slow process. I didn’t have any reason to get better. I had to want it before I could do it.”

“You didn’t want to get better?” Finn sounded like he might be getting ready to cry again.

“I didn’t know why I should. Everything feels bad when you’re depressed. My psychiatrist wasn’t fantastic, but she did help me get on some medications that made living seem less impossible. But I was in college by then, and my parents were at home, and I didn’t really talk to them much. I got a job which I hated, but I was making enough money that I thought it wouldn’t matter.”

Finn nodded. “I guess I can see how money might seem more important than enjoying your job.”

“It wasn’t, though.” Dave shook his head with a reluctant smile. “I kept waiting to come out of that first year feeling like I’d accomplished something, but I hadn’t. Before I moved to California, I didn’t even have friends who weren’t work friends. I was all alone. Then once I got settled in L.A., I got to know some people, and it became pretty clear that my life was way out of balance.”

Finn nodded. He wasn’t looking away anymore, he was just watching Dave. “What was it that changed things for you?”

“I didn’t make any more attempts, if that’s what you mean.” He took a deep breath. “I realized I wasn’t eating right. I was cutting corners, exercising too much. It was only partly about how I looked. I guess I hoped if I worked hard enough, I could make myself stop feeling bad about who I was.”

“You don’t seem like you’re struggling so much now,” Finn said.

“You think so?” Dave tried a smile. “Now ask me if I’ve ever come out to my mom.”

Finn’s eyes grew wide. “Really? You haven’t?”

“Nope. I figured there was no point, since she’d never accept it.”

“How—you got through being in the hospital without telling her you’re gay?”

“I was hardly being honest with anybody at that point, but telling my mom seemed completely impossible. It was easier to keep it a secret after I moved. I never told her about any of the guys I dated.” Dave shrugged one shoulder. “They never stuck around long enough for me to want to tell either of my parents about them, anyway.”

“Your dad knows, though.” Finn nodded when Dave nodded. “And your sister?”

“Dana’s always known. She and Santana were always making plans for me, setting me up with guys. The two of them are best friends now.”

Finn let out a surprised laugh. “Wow, that’s kind of amazing.”

“Yeah, I wish I could convince her to move to L.A. She’d love it there.”

The silence in the van felt a lot easier after that. Finn switched the music to another Christmas playlist. He still wasn’t singing, but he did play a little lap percussion, his hands playing air drums while his foot stamped out a bass.

“You still play drums?” Dave asked.

“No,” Finn said, his voice full of regret.

Dave almost said jeez, Finn, you don’t sing, you don’t play drums, what do you do with your time? But Finn clearly wasn’t in the mood for teasing.

Finn sighed. “I think being away from work is making me realize how much I need work to feel okay about things. Which isn’t cool, I know.”

“How about you stop judging yourself, huh?” Dave said. “Whatever you’re going through, you know it’s not going to change overnight. Give yourself a break.”

Finn paused, looking surprised, then nodded. “Okay… yeah. I think I can do that.”

He did sing a little as they crept their way across Texas into Louisiana, although not really loud enough for Dave to hear him. Every time Dave sang along on a song, Finn smiled and watched him, which made Dave feel a little self-conscious, but mostly giddy. It wasn’t going to stop him, but he did his very best to focus on the road instead of on Finn.

When they stopped for gas the second time later that afternoon, Finn called Kurt again, but it went to voicemail again.

“Can you call Elliot?” Dave asked, leaning against the side of the van.

Finn frowned doubtfully. “I guess I could, but… Kurt might get pissed.”

“More than he already is?” He gave Finn a look. “You’ll have a chance to make it up to him. Otherwise, I vote we just head north on I-59 now.”

“No, no,” Finn said hastily, “I said I was going to do this, and I’m going to. He can decide not to respond to my voicemail, but… I have to talk to him in person.”

“Okay.” Dave smiled, nodding encouragement. “Can I call my mom now?”

Finn handed the phone over. “Also, can you run in and grab something with caffeine? I’m going to need it.”

Dave decided he wasn’t going to mess with figuring out what kind of soda Finn liked and bought two Cokes. His mom picked up on the second ring.

“David, we were just talking about you. Say hi, everyone!” He heard a host of voices. “Where are you now?”

“Louisiana. We’re getting close to New Orleans. Who’s there?”

“Your dad and I, and Dana, and Santana.”

Dave sighed. “She’s still there?”

“Dave, she’s our guest, of course she’s here. She’s been helping out at the restaurant since Dana’s needing to be off her feet more and more.” 

He heard Santana say, “Let me talk to him.” As Dave waited, frowning, Santana’s drawl came on the phone. “You missed charades. I crushed everybody.”

“Hi, Santana.” He nodded at the cashier, handing her his credit card. “I can’t say I’m super sad about that, but don’t tell my mom. Uh—you don’t have me on speaker, do you?”

“No, but you’re going to have to offer me something for my silence. You’re really in New Orleans? You guys are going to see Kurt, right?”

“That’s our next step. Finn’s driving us there right now.” Then he paused, looking at the display on the counter. It was a set of bobbleheads, the kind that adhered to the dashboard of a car. He picked up the zebra, then said to the cashier, “I want one of these too.”

“One of what?” Santana asked.

“Never mind. Tell Dana she’s lucky I mailed her gift ahead of time, because everybody else’s gift is in my luggage, which is who-knows-where. And you don’t get anything because I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I get to eat your mom’s cooking. That’s the best present ever.” Santana smacked her lips with relish. “Well, tell Hudson he’d better not drive you into a tree or something, because there are three people here who really want to see you. And there’s me, I don’t care so much.”

“I’ll tell him. Don’t eat all the gingerbread.”

He tucked the zebra bobblehead into his pocket and headed back to the van, but he paused when he saw Finn climbing down from the hood. “Is something wrong with the—“ Then he stopped, realizing what Finn had done. “Where did you get that?”

“In Houston. I had to find an excuse to get rid of you for five minutes before I could put it on. It makes a better hood ornament than I would.” Finn was grinning from ear to ear. “You hate it, don’t you?”

Dave stared at the reindeer antlers protruding from the topmost corners of the front of the van. “I’m still deciding.” He walked around to the front, where the inevitable red nose was strapped to the grill, and winced. “Okay, that’s pretty silly.”

“I thought the van needed a little more holiday spirit.” Finn accepted the Coke from Dave with a shrug, still grinning.

“I can’t argue with that.” He hesitated, then pulled the zebra out of his pocket and handed it to Finn. “Here’s my contribution. More topical and less seasonal.”

“Aww,” Finn cooed in delight, tapping the bobblehead to make it jiggle. “I’m putting it in the van right now.”

Dave climbed into the passenger seat and watched him affix the zebra to the dashboard beside the radio. He nodded at Finn. “You, uh, seem like you’re feeling better.”

“Well, that’s the thing about grief,” Finn said. “It kind of fills the container you give it. I know it can suck for everybody else around me when I get stuck in that feeling. If I can trick my brain into remembering there are good things in the world, it’s easier to stay positive.” He tapped the bobblehead again, smiling. “That’s a good one. Thanks.”

Grief, Dave thought, and nodded again. “I don’t hate the reindeer antlers.”

“Of course you don’t. A zebra dressed up like Rudolph for Christmas? Totally awesome.” Finn turned the key in the ignition and straightened his shoulders. “All right. Let’s do this.”

It was already getting dark by the time they got off the highway and made their way along Carrollton into town. Dave found himself admiring the lights and decorations, but the closer they got to the residential streets, the more nervous he felt.

“Can you check Elliot’s text to make sure I’m going the right way?” Finn asked, surveying the streets.

Dave picked up his phone with some trepidation and glanced over Finn’s conversation with Elliot. “Uh… turn right up here. No, the next one.”

They pulled up alongside the gated driveway and Finn tapped in the code Elliot had given him. The van barely fit into the space between the two-story gray and white house and the tangerine Miata convertible. Finn looked over at Dave. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Dave agreed. “Anything to get out of this van.”

“Hey, this van did a good job.” Finn patted the dashboard defensively. “Give Rudy a break.”

Dave groaned as he climbed down from the passenger seat. “Rudy? Really?”

The light above the side entrance went on. A moment later, the door opened, and Kurt was standing there, silhouetted in warm light. He looked from the van, to Dave, to Finn, and back to Dave, his eyebrows high. “I can’t believe this.”

“Hey, Kurt,” Finn said.

A tall man with dark hair and an elegant moustache moved into the doorway beside Kurt, smiling. “Hey, you made it. Come in, come in! Do you have any bags to bring in?”

“No bags, just us.” Dave waved. “I’m Dave.”

“Elliot. You’ve had a long drive.” He nudged Kurt. “Honey, they’ve had a long drive.”

Kurt sighed, nodding, and held the screen door open. “Of course. Please come in, both of you.”

Dave accepted the offered hug from Kurt and the handshake from Elliot. Finn and Kurt did a little uncertain dance in the front hall until Elliot murmured, “Come on, give him a hug,” and they fell into a quick, tight embrace.

“Dave, you look amazing,” Kurt declared. “I think Los Angeles suits you.”

“Yeah, well, driving across country doesn’t so much,” said Dave, smiling. “You look pretty great yourself.”

“Yes, and what is that thing you’re driving?” Kurt nodded at the driveway in amazement.

“It’s a van,” Finn said. “From the zoo.”

“Apparently named Rudy,” Dave added, and Elliot let out a laugh.

Finn eyed Kurt hopefully. “There’s a rattle in the engine. It could use a little help from a mechanic, I think.”

“Dinner’s on the stove,” Elliot told them. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We’ve got an event to get to in fifteen minutes. The two of you are absolutely welcome to eat, then crash upstairs, or on the couch in the front room, whatever works for you. We’ll be back in a couple of hours. If you’re awake, we’d love to talk.”

“Wait, an event?” Finn asked. “What are you guys doing?”

Kurt hesitated, then gave Finn a painful smile. “We’re leading neighborhood Christmas caroling.”

“Oh.” He looked at the floor, then at Dave. “Uh, can we come?”

Both Dave and Kurt stared at Finn as Elliot said, “If you’re not too exhausted?”

“I’d like to be around people,” Finn said. He nodded at Dave. “You don’t have to, though.”

“No, I think it sounds fun,” Dave said quickly. Now Kurt swiveled his incredulous look on him. “Can we eat first? Anything but gas station food.”

It was vegetarian gumbo with rice, and it tasted incredible. Elliot filled their plates three times before Finn decided he was done.

“Christmas caroling, huh?” Finn said to Elliot. “Aren’t you Jewish?”

“I’m musically promiscuous,” Elliot replied. “Nobody’s checking my religion card at the door down here. Even Kurt can ignore the lyrics and just have fun at Christmas.”

“Elliot will take any opportunity to sing four-part harmony,” Kurt agreed. “And maybe living in New Orleans has made me a little more relaxed about holidays.” He turned to Finn, nodding. “You sure this is okay with you?”

“I’m sure,” Finn said.

It was seventy-five and a little humid outside, but not moist enough to bother them as they walked through the neighborhood toward the park. Kurt and Finn walked ahead on the sidewalk beneath the live oaks and magnolias.

“I know about you and Kurt,” Elliot said to Dave. “You redeemed yourself a long time ago, you know. Kurt’s told me all the stories about the two of you, but the only ones he’s held on to are the good ones.”

“I think Kurt and I came to an understanding back in high school,” said Dave. “He went through a lot back then.”

“So did you, I hear. Kurt has been a mess all day, getting ready for this, but he’s really glad Finn reached out. He felt so bad after everything that happened.”

Dave nodded. “I don’t know any of the details, but I get that something happened. Finn was sure Kurt wasn’t going to want to see him.”

“Oh, you don’t know.” Elliot turned to him, his brows knitting. “Hmmm. I guess I’d better let Finn tell you. I think he would tell you all of it, if you asked him. He clearly trusts you.”

Dave swallowed. “I guess there’s something about going through an ordeal that brings people together? But he doesn’t have to talk about it. I’ve just been trying to give him space.”

Elliot pursed his lips. “I think Finn doesn’t need space. He needs somebody who’s willing to listen. He’s got Puck, but sometimes a guy needs somebody more than a best friend. He’s afraid of asking for too much.”

Dave wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He watched Kurt slide an arm around Finn’s waist, and Finn squeezed Kurt’s shoulder. 

“Here’s something else you should know about Finn: he works too hard. He needs somebody to keep him in balance.” Elliot gave Dave a meaningful look. “Somebody who’s heading in the same direction as he is.”

“Uh—“ Dave almost stumbled on the sidewalk. He looked at Elliot in confusion. “I don’t think—I mean, Finn’s not…”

“All sparks are good,” Elliot said, when Dave’s words trailed off. “And I can already see they’re there, between the two of you. Now it’s just a question of what you’re going to do about it.”

Dave felt a little dizzy. He kept moving his feet, and the four of them kept walking together down the sidewalk through the neighborhood, but it kind of seemed like he and Finn were still in the van, careening down the highway toward an uncertain future.

Then Finn turned around, as though Dave had called him, and gave him a soft smile. Dave let out a shaky breath.

“Are we ready?” Kurt said to Elliot.

“You bet,” Elliot agreed. He touched Dave’s arm. “What part do you sing?”

“Baritone,” said Dave.

“We’ll put you and Finn together, then. Kurt and I will handle the tenor and alto parts as needed. We’ve got a whole bunch of friends who can really sing.”

There was a sizable congregation of folks in the park, and Elliot and Kurt seemed to know all of them. There was a lot of hugging, while Finn and Dave stood there awkwardly smiling and nodding.

“Everyone, this is my stepbrother,” Kurt called across the crowd, and there was an excited murmuring.

“The one from Los Angeles?” said one person, smiling.

“Kurt talks about you all the time,” said another, grasping his hand.

“Oh,” Finn said, sounding bewildered, but nodded. “Yeah? It’s really nice to be here.” 

Elliot and Kurt handed out stapled packets of arrangements of familiar Christmas carols. “Stand with your part,” Elliot called, “and we’ll run through some of the tricky parts. Let’s start on page four, with Angels We Have Heard on High.”

Dave thought they sounded like they’d been practicing for weeks. Every man standing nearby sang loudly and confidently. It was easy to follow along and enjoy the ride, but he kept an eye on Finn, who seemed a little overwhelmed, but sang the whole time.

“We can go any time,” Dave murmured, stepping in close beside him.

Finn shook his head, but he grabbed Dave’s arm, leaning on him a little. Dave tried to stand as steadily as he could, waiting until Finn had his footing. “I’m okay,” he said, letting go. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” Dave said. He let the truth of it ring through him, as clear as the music they were singing. Now it’s just a question of what I’m going to do about it.

Eventually they’d reviewed all the parts Elliot and Kurt seemed to think might trip them up, and there was a general movement toward the street. Dave and Finn stayed with their group of other baritones. One of them, a well-muscled man in a tank top wearing a Santa hat, smiled at Dave.

“You’re not Kurt’s stepbrother,” he said.

“No, we went to high school together,” Dave replied.

The man looked Dave up and down in a very obvious way. “How long are you in town?”

“Uh,” Dave said. “I’m—that is, I’m sort of—“

“We’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Finn cut in.

“Oh,” said the man, and shrugged. “Too bad.”

As he moved ahead of them, Finn leaned in to Dave. “Dude, we really need to work on your finesse, if that’s how you respond every time a guy hits on you.”

“I was caught off guard,” Dave whispered, as Finn snickered.

The group paused in front of a restaurant. Kurt climbed up on a nearby stone bench and conducted them through a rendition of “Deck the Hall.” Dave couldn’t really read music, but he appreciated having the lyrics for verses three and four. At the end, the people who’d paused to listen applauded.

They processed slowly through the business district and back into the neighborhood, stopping on every block to sing. Finn seemed to manage just fine as they sang most of the carols, but when they got to “Silent Night,” he stopped singing. Dave watched him anxiously as he wiped his eyes with the side of his hand, but when they moved on to the next location, Finn continued singing without complaint.

Kurt came around to check in. “We’ve got a few more stops, but then we’re done,” he said. “There’s a party afterward on Franklin Street, but I’m going to vote we head home. I’ll take a look at your van’s engine, then we can have a drink on the balcony before bed.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dave agreed in relief, and Finn nodded.

Everyone’s spirits were high as they concluded with a round of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas.” Dave waited until all the hugging was finished, and then the four of them waved goodbye and walked back through the park to Kurt and Elliot’s house. The lights in the trees, tangled among the branches high above, dusted with moss, made it seem more like a wonderland than snow ever had.

“Everybody loved it,” Elliot said, taking Kurt’s hand and holding it up in triumph.

Kurt nodded. He turned to Finn and smiled. “I think they did.”

“Definitely,” Finn agreed. “You weren’t kidding about having friends who can sing.”

“Musicians love this city. Every year we’re here, the more sure I am we made the right call about where to settle down.” He let Elliot put his arm around him as they walked. “Do you feel the same way about L.A.?”

“Most of the time. It has a lot to offer. It would be hard to start over someplace else.”

Kurt turned to Dave. “How about you?”

“L.A.’s definitely better than Lima,” Dave said, grinning. “I think I’ve been there enough years that it feels like home.”

“But you’re going home for Christmas?”

Dave nodded. “They don’t complain about me living on the other side of the country, but I know my mom and dad miss me.”

“It’s important to be with family at this time of the year,” Elliot said. “Even if it’s a little work. We have our own family, our chosen family, but…”

“Your dad misses you, too,” Finn said. “So does Mom.”

“I know,” Kurt said quietly, nestled in the crook of Elliot’s arm. “I miss them too. It was just too much for me to think about last year.”

“I’m sorry, Kurt,” Finn said. “I know it brought up all kinds of memories about your mom, and—“

“Finn, you don’t have to apologize.” Kurt’s voice was firm. “I know what you’re dealing with. I didn’t want to make it any harder for you. You want me at Christmas, I’ll be there.”

“Of course I want you there.” Finn stopped on the sidewalk, looking at Kurt in surprise. “It’s your family, too.”

Dave and Elliot waited while they hugged. So many questions were running through Dave’s head, but he didn’t want to interrupt them to ask any of them. But he could see Elliot looking at him. Talk to him, his look said.

In the driveway, they watched anxiously while Kurt changed into jeans and an old shirt and peered under the hood of the van. “Was it a single knock or a double knock?”

“Uh…” Finn looked at Dave. “I think one at a time.”

“Well, clearly nobody’s been taking care of the engine in this van.” Kurt sighed, brushing the hair out of his eyes with a practiced gesture. “There’s excessive clearance between the crankshaft and the connecting rod bearing surface. I’ll change your oil, and include an additive that’ll clean out some of the dirt and grit, but the surface of the bearings are wearing out. If it starts knocking again on the way north, I’d say there’s a chance you might not make it back to Lima without damaging your crankshaft.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Dave said. “I don’t think we have much of a choice, though.”

On the way back into the house, Dave borrowed Finn’s phone and texted his mom: We’re staying at Kurt and Elliot’s tonight, and tomorrow we’ll head north.

Do you still think you’ll make it home by Christmas? his mom replied.

If the van doesn’t break down, and as long as the weather holds off, I think so. It’s a long drive, but we did six hours today, and it was okay.

When he handed Finn his phone, Finn told him, “I’ll take the couch, you take the guest room.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Dave said, but Finn shook his head.

“I know you didn’t really sleep last night on the train. And I think, if we’re going to drive thirteen hours tomorrow, you’re going to need some sleep.”

He wanted to say you can sleep in the guest room, too, but based on the thoughts he was already having about Finn, that would clearly be a bad idea. He just nodded. “Yeah, okay. We’ll get up early tomorrow and head out, and with luck, we’ll beat that storm home.”

As Dave was turning away, Finn reached out and clasped his hand. It wasn’t the way he’d grabbed Dave’s arm earlier, not like he was looking for support. Dave licked his lips, staring at Finn’s hand in his, his heart thudding wildly.

“You sounded really good,” Finn said. “That was the first time I’ve sung with anybody in almost two years, and… it was nice.”

“Yeah,” Dave whispered. He cleared his throat. “It was. You sounded good, too.”

Dave escaped upstairs to the guest room without saying anything he might regret afterward. He thought he might have trouble falling asleep, but as soon as he got under the covers, he was out for the rest of the night.

Elliot was awake when Dave came down in the morning. It was still dark out. He handed Dave a cup of coffee. “Kurt’s not a morning person.”

“How did I guess that?” Dave smiled, accepting the cup. He glanced over at the still form on the couch. “I don’t think Finn is, either.”

“I can confirm that mornings at their house were always pretty quiet.” Elliot sat at the table with Finn. “So I talked Kurt out of driving back to Lima with you guys.”

“Oh.” Dave raised his eyebrows. “It seems like it’d be kind of useful, having a mechanic along?”

“I did mention that, but he said the thing that would go wrong with the car at this point couldn’t be fixed, by any mechanic. He’s done what he can.” Elliot nodded toward Dave. “And he wouldn’t talk with Kurt in the van. It’s up to you now.”

“Me.” Dave gripped the coffee cup.

“If you haven’t changed your mind about getting intimate with a guy who has some baggage.”

“Well,” Dave said, trying to sound light, “I’m pretty sure his baggage is waiting at the airport.”

Elliot didn’t laugh. “You think you’re going to help him pick it up?”

“I think I’m pretty strong? But… seriously, Elliot, I’ve never had a real relationship, and…” He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t think anybody would think it was a good idea for me to try to start one with a straight guy. No matter how amazing he is.”

They both turned as Finn sat up on the couch, yawning. Elliot rose to his feet. “I’ll make some more coffee.”

Kurt did manage to wake up before Finn and Dave were ready to leave. Kurt looked like he wasn’t ever going to stop hugging Finn, and Finn didn’t look like he was in any mood to stop him.

“I’m going to watch the weather,” Kurt said, “and as soon as it settles down, I’m booking a flight to Columbus. You can let Dad and Carole know I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Okay.” Finn was smiling. “That’s awesome. I’ll wait to rebook my flight home until I know when you’re coming.”

Kurt hugged Dave goodbye, and this time, Elliot hugged him too. “Maybe we’ll see each other again soon,” he murmured.

The streets were much quieter on their way out of town. Finn in the passenger seat wasn’t saying much either, but he reached out and tapped the bobblehead and said to Dave, “Zebra power.”

“You bet, man.”

They drove in near-silence for a couple of hours. When they stopped for gas and a bathroom break, they picked up sandwiches and kept right on going without hardly a pause. Finn wasn’t even looking at his phone. Dave watched him in mild concern.

“How about we listen to some music?” he suggested.

Finn shrugged, but then he nodded. “Any favorite bands?” 

“You pick,” Dave said. “I’ll sing if I know it.”

It ended up being Green Day, which surprised Dave a little, but he knew about every other song. Finn sang to every single one. When the album was over, without asking, he chose Van Halen, which was more Dave’s style. Finn sang those songs, too, and likewise everything by Boston and The Eagles. Dave barely noticed the miles ticking by.

“You have a good memory for lyrics,” Dave said afterward.

Finn shrugged. “It’s not like remembering. It’s more like football plays. I practice it enough times, it becomes part of me.” He turned to his phone. “What’s next?”

“I was thinking it might be better if we talked?” It came out a little more like a question than Dave had intended, and when Finn shook his head, he added, “Finn, I—“

“Look,” Finn said, sounding agitated, “things are feeling okay right now, and I don’t want… I would rather not make a big deal about things that are in the past. Okay?”

“Do you mean you don’t want to talk about it, or do you mean you’re worried you’re asking for too much by getting me involved?”

Finn was silent for a while. Finally he sighed. “If I tell you about what happened, would you please take a break and let me drive for a while?”

Dave nodded. He pulled off the highway into the next rest stop, and parked the van in an empty space, far enough away from the other cars that nobody would bother them. Then he turned off the ignition and turned to Finn, whose head was bowed.

“Finn,” Dave tried again.

“Just… give me a minute,” Finn muttered.

“You’re not asking for too much,” Dave said. “This whole weird trip, you’ve been so generous, and kind, and—I knew you were that way, but I never thought I would get to see it up close and personal. I want…” Dave considered his words. “I want you to know I’m here. To listen, or—whatever you need.”

Finn nodded, still looking at his lap.

“I think I thought I was being respectful of your privacy by not asking, but now I think it came off as not caring. But I do.”

Finn’s eyes strayed to the door, and he sighed. “It’s just, the last time I tried to talk about this with another guy, he told me he couldn’t handle it.”

“Yeah, but that’s not going to happen with me,” Dave said gently. “I’m not another guy. I’ve been on the road with you for the past fifty-plus hours, and we’re going to be back in Lima in another four, and I don’t want you to walk away from here thinking you have to get through this alone.”

He nodded again. When he looked up, Dave could see the grief plainly, right on the surface.

“When Kurt went to New York for college,” he said, “he met a guy. His name was Adam Crawford. Adam was just finishing his last year at NYADA, and he and Kurt went out for a while. They were close enough that Kurt brought him home to Lima for Christmas. That’s how Adam and I met. We hit it off right away, and when he finished school, he moved to L.A. to do an internship in film production. We…” Finn took a deep breath and let it out. “We started dating.”

“Oh,” Dave whispered.

“It wasn’t weird, somehow, that he and Kurt never really broke up? I mean, they weren’t together, but there was no reason they weren’t. It was just that Adam was in California with me, and when he came back home with me for the holidays, it was… you know, me and Adam and Kurt. Elliot was fine with it.” Finn glanced over at Dave. “It wasn’t weird.”

“No, I—that’s okay, you don’t have to explain.” None of that part of the story even pinged him as strange, not after seeing the way Finn and Kurt were together. All he could think was: Finn had a boyfriend. He tried to stay focused on what Finn was saying. “What happened?”

“Adam and I, we sang together a lot. It was kind of informal, but Adam loved singing and arranging, and he… there was one day when he had trouble breathing. He went to the doctor to have it checked out, and he got a lung x-ray, and…” Finn closed his eyes.

Dave flinched. “Oh, shit.”

“Lung cancer. It was pretty advanced, you don’t need to know the details. But it was, like, the worst possible thing to happen for a singer? He was so good, so damned talented, and for the last year, he couldn’t sing, at all.” Finn shook his head, like it hurt him to do it. “And for Kurt, watching Adam get sicker and sicker was like reliving everything that happened with his mom and her leukemia, and he just… stopped calling Adam. I brought him home for Christmas the last year, but Kurt and Elliot didn’t come.”

Dave felt a flash of anger. He was too far away to touch him, but right now, it was all he could do not to climb out of his seat and put his arms around Finn. “That really sucks.”

“Yeah.” Finn looked away again. “I think if it hadn’t been for Puck, I probably wouldn’t have made it through the next year. That was two years ago. Last year, I came home by myself for Christmas.” He smiled at the floor. “Seeing Kurt just now was great, and I’m really glad he wants to see me? But I know it’s going to bring up all this stuff, and…” He laughed, but it sounded hollow. “If I couldn’t deal with losing Adam before, how could I deal with it now?”

Because I’m here sounded like the worst form of bravado. Dave just shook his head. “Because… I don’t know. Because people heal? Because you’re a little stronger than you were last year? Because you just drove across the country with some random dude?”

Finn smiled. “You’re not a random dude. I mean, if we weren’t friends before, we sure are now.”

“Definitely.” Dave’s voice cracked. “Yeah. I’m your friend, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Finn said. He gazed across the van at Dave. “I believe you. Okay, it’s my turn to drive now.”

There was a moment when Finn was walking past him around to the other side of the car when they could have touched each other. There could have been a hug, maybe the kind of hug that Finn and Kurt had shared. Intimate, Dave thought, desperately avoiding Finn’s eyes as he passed. He’d told himself over and over it wasn’t going to happen, that it wasn’t possible. And now that it was possible… what was the right thing to do?

Finn climbed into the car and turned the key. There was a terrible grinding sound, followed by a lurching sigh. When Finn tried turning the key again, it just made a click.

“For fuck’s sake,” Finn hissed. He hit the steering wheel. “Come on!”

“Finn,” Dave said urgently. “That’s not going to help.”

“But I have to fix it,” he shouted. “I have to fix it. I can’t let it end like this. I can’t just not go home.”

“We’re going to fix it,” Dave shouted back, “okay? It’s not going to end like this. I swear. This is just… a speed bump. We’re going to drive over it and keep going.” He tried to get Finn to look at him, but Finn was holding onto the steering wheel, his teeth bared. “No matter what happens to the van, this isn’t our last stop.”

Finn collapsed onto the steering wheel, hunched over his arms, crying. Dave sat there in agony for a few moments, watching Finn’s shoulders heave, and then he got out of the van and came around to the other side. He opened the door and, as gently as he could, he dragged Finn out of the van.

“You’re not going to give up here,” Dave told him, holding on to him. “And I’m not either. Just let me do this part, and when you’re ready, you take a turn.”

Finn was still crying, more quietly now, but he let Dave hold him up, his arms over Dave’s shoulders, slung against him. It wasn’t exactly a short time, but lifting big things was something Dave could do, and he wasn’t about to complain.

Eventually Finn’s tears slowed. He shifted in Dave’s arms, holding on around his neck, and wiped his eyes and face on his sleeve.

“You’re really strong,” Finn murmured.

“Part of the job,” Dave replied. “I don’t need to be fixing everyone and everything, but sometimes it’s good to know someone’s got your back, and right now I’ve got yours. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said meekly.

“Kurt said if the van stopped working on this drive, it was probably too late to fix it. I think we need another vehicle. It’s not too late in the day, and we’re at a rest stop. Can you check the weather, and then we’ll start calling to see if we can find a ride from here?”

Finn nodded, sitting on the driver’s seat with his legs hanging out the door. He was already looking at his phone. “Okay, the—“ He blanched. “According to this radar, the storm is about a half hour away.”

“Okay,” Dave said, his stomach sinking. “Plan B, then. We’re going to stay here in the van until someone can come get us. That might mean overnight. But Kurt and Elliot gave us sleeping bags and blankets for a reason, right? We’ll be okay.”

“Sure.” Finn didn’t look so sure, but he nodded. “I can call around, see what I can find for a ride in the morning.”

“I’ll see how things look in the rest stop.” He offered a smile, hoping Finn wouldn’t think it was too cheerful for the situation, but Finn was focused on his phone. “Back in a minute.”

There was a bathroom and three vending machines inside the rest stop, along with a map with a big red pointer saying YOU ARE HERE. Dave studied the map. It looked like it was more like two and a half hours to Lima, but that wasn’t counting the effect of the bad weather. He used the bathroom and went back to the van.

“Thanks anyway,” Finn said into the phone. He shook his head grimly. “Third place who won’t be open on Christmas.”

“Oh, shit.” Dave looked at him in horror. “Tomorrow’s Christmas. Nobody’s going to have cars to rent. We have to get one tonight.”

“Yeah, except it’s past five, and most of them are closed. Christmas Eve, right?” Finn leaned back and sighed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I think we’d be better off hitchhiking than sleeping here.”

“No way,” Dave swore. “Kurt would have my hide. I’m definitely not in favor of thumbing a ride in any circumstance, but especially not in a snowstorm.”

“Okay, okay! You’re right.” He handed his phone to Dave. “I’m going to pee.”

Dave texted Kurt first. The van stopped just north of Cincinnati. We’re at a rest stop.

Kurt replied right away. How much clearance in front of you?

Dave glanced out the windshield. Another whole parking spot, then a space to drive, then another parking spot ahead of that.

Okay, I’m going to call Dad. You just sit tight. Turn off the data to your phone to preserve battery. I love you.

Dave stared at the words for a moment before realizing what had happened. Kurt, this is Dave, on Finn’s phone.

There was a long silence as Dave waited. I am so sorry, Dave.

No, it’s okay. Finn told me the whole story about Adam and you. I think you legitimately get to say that to him.

I’m just going to crawl in a hole now.

Dave grinned. Don’t tell me this was the first time you ever said it.

No, but it’s been a while. And now Elliot is laughing at me. Okay okay okay brb.

Dave was still chuckling when Finn returned to the car. He looked suspiciously at the phone. “Funny cat videos?”

“No, it’s—well, here. Read that.”  He handed the phone back to Finn, who skimmed it, then turned beet red.

“He said that to you?” Finn squeaked.

“No, he said that to you. I take it not in a brotherly way.”

“I mean… I don’t even know anymore.” Finn shook his head, covering his face. “God. This is so messed up.”

“Not unless you don’t feel the same way?”

Finn shot him an outraged look. “Dude, he’s practically married to Elliot. I’m not going there. And—seriously, this doesn’t bother you?”

“Kurt’s pretty awesome, I’m not going to lie. After the L.A. scene, I don’t think anything would weird me out anymore.” He spoke a little more gently. “You’re the one who said it wasn’t weird.”

“It—“ Finn bit his lip. “Yeah, I love Kurt. He’s…” He huffed.

“You really don’t have to try to explain. And right now, he’s making calls to get us a ride. I say we do what he suggested and sit tight. And turn off your data to save the battery in your phone.”

Finn did that, somewhat slowly. Then he turned to the back of the van, which was largely empty. “I guess we should try to keep things closed in here, too. To keep it warm? It’s not so cold right now, but if it’s going to snow, it will be soon.”

They were unrolling sleeping bags and blankets in the back of the van when the phone rang. Finn looked at it and said, “It’s Kurt.”

“Well, go ahead,” Dave said, gesturing at the phone.

Finn put it to his ear. “Hey… No, he’s not! It really is okay. Don’t freak out.” He sighed. “How about we worry about getting this van out of—where are we?”

“Monroe,” Dave supplied.

“Monroe.” Finn listened, then nodded. “Okay. We’ll wait. Thanks. And, uh…” He glanced at Dave, then added, “I love you, too. Yeah. I mean, I didn’t want you to think I—right. Later. Bye.”

Dave failed to suppress his smile. “That was nice of you.”

“Well, he tends to kind of… obsess over things like that. Not that I got any sleep last night.” He gazed around the inside of the van disconsolately. “Now I think we get to sit in the van and get snowed on.”

“That sounds about right.” He could definitely tell the temperature was dropping now that the van wasn’t running. As he zipped his coat up a little further, he could see Finn beginning to shiver. “How about you get inside one of those sleeping bags?”

Finn didn’t seem too thrilled with that idea, but he climbed inside and zipped it up most of the way, with his head and arms sticking out. “Huh,” he said begrudgingly, “that’s really a lot warmer.”

“So, okay, I’m going to ask this,” Dave said, “and you can tell me it’s none of my business, but… when did you figure out you were gay?”

“I’m not. I mean, I guess if you’re going to use it like an umbrella term, but Kurt says queer is better for that. I’m pansexual.” He paused at the look on Dave’s face. “Like, I’m into people of all genders, and it doesn’t matter so much to me which one?”

“Got it.” Dave nodded.

“Yeah. So I guess the first person I messed around with should have been Kurt, but I pushed back pretty hard against his flirting? No, it was Puck.”

“Oh.” There was no way Dave was going to be able to hide his reaction to that revelation. Finn just chuckled.

“He doesn’t use any labels for himself. I think he’s personally opposed to them. But he’s all about new experiences, and that was really good for me at the beginning, because he didn’t make me feel bad about anything I wanted to try, and he also didn’t get emotionally hung up on anything I said no to.” He yawned. “Sorry.”

“No, you did say you didn’t sleep very well. So, you and Puck.”

“Yeah, I guess friends-with-benefits is as close as we’ve ever come to a label for what we do. We’re kind of each other’s backup partner when we’ve got something going on? I’ve been his plus-one to a bunch of fancy events put on by studios. But when I was with Adam, he knew that was the real deal. He didn’t question it.”

He could see Finn’s eyes closing a little bit at a time. “Anybody else between Puck and Adam?”

“I’m kind of bad at hookups. There was one guy I dated a couple of times, he was really nice, but he was looking for something I wasn’t ready to give him.” At Dave’s questioning face, Finn shrugged. “He had a kid? And I was just, too young to do that at that point. It wasn’t like he made a big deal about it, but it felt like too much of a commitment.”

“Yeah, of course.”

He held the question long enough in his mouth that Finn just went ahead and answered it. “I think I do want kids. At least most days I do, anyway.”

‘That’s a reasonable answer,” Dave agreed. “It’s hard to know how it would be unless you did it.”

He sat there, watching Finn begin to doze off, then wake up again and look around. When he noticed Dave was still right there next to him, it appeared to reassure him, and he went back to sleep again. Every time Finn woke, Dave just held very still, but when Finn went back to sleep, Dave focused on a different part of him to watch while he slept: his eyes, his ears, his mouth, his throat. It was very hard not to press a kiss to that throat, but he wasn’t about to do that without asking first.

When Dave began to doze off, too, he climbed into the other sleeping bag, but left his shoes and coat on. He bundled up the last remaining blanket and tucked it underneath Finn’s head, like a pillow. He set Finn’s phone in a place where it wouldn’t get lost, and would vibrate loudly enough for him to hear.

It was dark and cold when he awoke to the sound, not of Finn’s phone, but an engine, right outside the van. Dave checked the phone anyway. It was 3:22 AM. There were no messages or missed calls.

He climbed out of the sleeping bag, climbed into the front of the van, and opened the passenger door. It stuck on a drift of snow, but with some force, he was able to push it open. The whole parking lot was covered. It was no longer snowing, but there was at least a foot on the ground, and deeper in spots where it had drifted.

Dave waded through the snow, shielding his eyes from the headlights of the approaching vehicle. He finally realized it was two different vehicles. One was a plow, carving a trough through the parking lot. The other was a flatbed tow truck. He waved his arm at the truck, and it blinked its lights at him.

“You’re Finn Hudson?” the driver called when he got close enough to the truck. 

“I’m the other guy,” he said. “Finn’s asleep in the van.”

The driver frowned. “I’m not supposed to do this, but let him sleep, I say. Burt Hummel told me to tow this van back to Lima. You want to ride inside the van or in the cab with me?”

“I’ll stay in the van,” he said. There was no way he’d leave Finn to potentially wake up alone.

“The plow will be driving just ahead of us, clearing the way. It’s going to be a long ride.”

“I understand,” said Dave, smiling, “I think I can handle a long ride.”

Finn slept through the entire ride back, including the loading and unloading of the van on and off the flatbed. It only took Dave’s hand on his shoulder to help him relax back into sleep every time he stirred.

When they arrived in Lima, Burt Hummel met the tow truck at the garage. He didn’t pay either of the drivers, but Dave guessed there must have been some form of compensation going on for them to come out on Christmas Day. He crouched down beside the open door of the van as Finn sat up, rubbing his face and extracting himself from the sleeping bag.

“Where are we?” Finn said. His eyes widened when he saw Mr. Hummel, and one of those smiles appeared on his face. “Hey!”

“Somehow, the two of you made it across the country in four days,” Mr. Hummel said, sounding exasperated, but he smiled as he accepted a hug from Finn. “Hey, you. I brought you the last hundred miles. Merry Christmas to me.”

“And us,” Dave agreed. He shook Mr. Hummel’s hand. “You’ve officially been cast in the part of the angel.”

Mr. Hummel shrugged genially. “Sometimes it’s about who you know. Now, where can we drop you, Dave? Finn’s mother made me promise he’s coming back to the house with me, under pain of death.”

“My parents still live on Cornell. 1049 Cornell.” He handed Finn back his phone. “Tomorrow, I’ll buy a new phone.”

The ride in Mr. Hummel’s truck was a little surreal. It was still too early for there to be any lights, and only some of the roads had been plowed. Everything was draped in white. Dave suspected he wouldn’t have been able to drive the streets at all in his car.

And then there was Finn, sitting beside him, still half-asleep. So much had changed since that uncomfortable delivery truck ride to Albuquerque, when it had felt like too much contact to sit in the front seat with him. Now, the amount of closeness they had didn’t feel like enough. Dave wanted to put his arm around him, to ask him how he was doing, but he felt too self-conscious to do that in front of Kurt’s dad. When would they even see each other again? There was no way to know. He felt a sharp pain in his chest as Mr. Hummel drew to a halt in front of his house.

“Hey.” Finn leaned over, looking out the window, and smiled. “Somebody already plowed.”

“Looks like my dad took me seriously when I said I’d be home Christmas Day.” Dave tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “I’ll… I guess I’ll see you.”

Finn’s focus fell on Dave, and his smile slipped as he realized this was it. “Yeah. I’ll see you. Merry Christmas, Dave.”

“Thanks again, Mr. Hummel.” Dave closed the car door and trudged up the driveway. He waved at Mr. Hummel’s truck from the middle, but they didn’t drive away immediately. When Dave turned around again, this time from the porch, they were still in the same spot. Maybe Finn was having the same difficulty saying goodbye that he was. Or maybe it was just that Mr. Hummel wanted to make sure he got inside before he left.

He had a wild impulse to run back to the truck, but he didn’t. Instead, he unlocked the front door with his key and opened it. He stripped off his cold, wet clothing and hung his travel-stained coat on the hook by the door. It had been a good coat.

“David,” he heard in the hallway, and turned to see his mother standing there in her robe, smiling at him. “You’re here.”

“I am,” he said. He went to her and gave her a long, tight hug. “I made it home. Merry Christmas, mom.”

When Dave came downstairs the next morning, it was after eleven, but not one person gave him grief about it. The dinner table was set, and the gifts were still under the tree. Everyone appeared to have been waiting patiently for him to wake up. He could hear his mother in the kitchen.

His father looked up from his tablet, smiling. He was calmly unsurprised to see him. Dave was sure he’d been the one to shovel the walk, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“That was quite a trip you had,” said his father.

“It really was,” Dave agreed. “I think I’d rather not do it again, but… there were some memorable bits. I’ll tell you all at dinner.”

“That sounds fine. The Columbus airport called, and they have your suitcase. I figured we could drive over tomorrow and pick it up.”

Dave nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

Santana was working on the corner of a thousand-piece puzzle, the kind his mother always got out at Christmas and usually failed to complete before the day everybody left. She made a face when he sat down next to him. “Jeez, Karofsky. Took you long enough.”

“Yeah, I totally caused that storm to come through, but I only did it to annoy you.” He picked up a stray edge piece, searched the puzzle, and fitted it into place while she frowned.

“Four days in a house with anybody is pretty boring, but it’s so much worse when it’s not my house. Still.” She shrugged. “Things here are fine. How about you?”

Dave could feel the answer waiting at the edges of his consciousness. For now, he just said, “Not too bad, all things considered. It was nice to shower and sleep in a bed.”

“How was Hummel’s Gayhouse? I bet it had way too many lamps.”

Dave snorted. “It was nice. Their neighborhood is something else. He and Elliot helped a lot. I think Kurt’s planning to come up to Lima in a few days, after the storm blows over.” He looked around. “Where’s Dana?”

“Nice of you to notice she was missing. She’s lying down upstairs. Back pain is no joke. She’s not sleeping so well.”

Dave lowered his voice. “So, I said it to my mom, and I’m going to say it to you, just for the record… I know my mom’s trying to fix me up with you, and I’m really not interested. You know the reason why.”

Santana narrowed her eyes at him, looking completely perplexed. Then she laughed out loud. Dave’s father looked over curiously.

“Dave thinks I’m here because Linda’s trying to hook me up with him,” Santana said to his dad.

He wrinkled his brow. “Hold on. Aren’t you gay?”

“Dad,” Dave muttered, peering around him to make sure his mother wasn’t within listening distance.

“Yeah, I’m gay,” Santana said, grinning. “Which you knew. And, I gotta say, so’s your sister, in all the ways that count. Otherwise this whole thing we’ve got going would be kind of a drag.”

Dave stared at her. After a moment, he closed his mouth. “You—“

“Me and Dana,” Santana said, with raised eyebrows. “Yeah. For, like, two years?”

“Wait, I couldn’t hear that,” his mother called from the kitchen, “Santana, honey, did you say Dave thought you were here for him?”

“Well, what can I say, he hasn’t always been the most observant.” She patted Dave’s arm absently as she gazed at the puzzle, then brightened. “Oh, there’s the last edge piece!”

“Dana can get him caught up when her back is feeling better.” His mom kissed his cheek, looking at him chidingly. “Honestly, Dave, you really need to call Dana more often.”

“I… guess I do,” he said weakly. He gave Santana one more desperate look, but she was serenely focused on the puzzle. “I thought the two of you were just best friends.”

“Yeah, there’s no just about best friends.” She nudged his knee with hers. “You know that.”

Dave wiped his forehead, wondering exactly what Santata knew. He lowered his voice. “And my mom’s fine with it?”

“Far as I can tell? I mean, she’s still inviting me to Christmas. Nobody’s trying to kick me out yet. She’s got us sleeping in the same room. I’ll take it.” Santana scoffed. “Come on, it’s 2021. Who even cares anymore who’s gay?”

“Oh, Dave,” his mother called, poking her head around the corner, “I forgot. An express mail envelope came for you yesterday. It’s on the table in the front hall.”

He went to the front hall and examined the soft padded envelope. It was from an address in Houston. Smiling, he ripped it open to find his phone, along with a note: The train conductor found this in the okapi car. Good thing Ollie got your address! Thanks for everything - Brian. Whatever that implied about the two of them, Dave decided it was a positive sign.

Then he went upstairs to the room where Dana and Santana were staying. Dana was lying on her side, pillows propping up her very pregnant body from all angles. She raised herself up and smiled when he entered the room.

“Are you okay?” she exclaimed. “Every time Mom told us where you were, the story got more complicated. Did you really drive in last night?”

“Kind of. We got a lot of rides.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“If you don’t count this stabbing pain in my back, and how I can’t laugh without peeing myself, I’m fine.” She looked as stoic as Dave would have expected from her. He put out a hand, and she took it. “How about you? What an adventure! I want to hear the whole story.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell it at dinner. So…” He shook his head in bemusement. “Turns out I didn’t know a key piece of information about my sister? Since when are you and Santana more than friends?”

Dana looked startled. “Since, I don’t know, ever? Do you really need to know what your sister is doing in bed with anybody?”

“Well, no,” he began. Then he thought about Finn and Puck, and Finn and Kurt, and he laughed. “No, of course I don’t. I just… I didn’t know you even thought about that. About girls, like that.”

“First of all, it’s women,” Dana stressed. “You don’t call people girls unless they’re under thirteen. And statistically, one in five women consider themselves to be bisexual. Add that to the genetics at play here, and I think the odds were pretty good.”

He nodded slowly. “So, you and Santana, you’re having this baby together?”

“No, it’s my baby. I’m having it myself. Santana gets to be whatever she wants to be.”

Dana looked so calm and sure that Dave could only smile and say, “Okay, cool. And… mom, she knows?”

“You mean about me and Santana? I think she knows as much as she wants to know. She knows I’m bisexual, and she knows Santana and I love each other a lot. Is that enough?”

Dave’s answer felt more complicated than it would have five days ago. He shrugged. “I just thought… you know I’ve never told her about me.”

“Well, that’s up to you.”

“Yeah, but… I didn’t have a reason to tell her before.”

Her eyes widened, and she nodded. “Oh?” was all she said.

“I met someone.” He took a deep breath. “I mean, I fell in love with someone. I think it might be important, but I don’t know if he feels the same way or not.”

“Damn,” she murmured. She squeezed his hand. “Are you going to ask him?”

“I don’t know.” He laughed when she punched his knee with their joined hands. “Hey!”

“Really? You go five days across the country with this guy and you don’t know?”

“It’s complicated. I’m not kidding.” He smiled. “But it might be worth it.”

“Well…” Dana used the leverage of Dave’s arm to haul herself to a seated position. “I’m in favor you being happy, and I say go for it.”

Through the course of Christmas dinner, Dave told the whole story of the last five days. He left out some of the more personal details, including Ollie’s estrangement from his family and Finn’s relationship with Kurt, but he included Blaine’s attempt to reconcile with Sebastian and Kurt and Elliot’s home in New Orleans. They were all amazed by Mr. Hummel’s two-truck rescue from the rest stop.

“And you got your phone back,” said Dana. “What about Blaine and Sebastian? Have you heard from them?”

“Not yet,” said Dave, passing the bread basket to Santana. “I hope they work things out.”

“Did you talk to Finn today?” asked his mother.

Dave looked at his plate. “Um… well…”

There was a pause while everyone waited for him. It made him feel unexpectedly sentimental, and he had to calm himself twice before going on. He saw Dana give him a little nod.

“Finn and I had a lot of time to talk over the past couple of days,” he said. “Both of us came to terms with some things we were setting aside, but we realized were actually really important to both of us. Family was one of them.” He smiled at his dad. “I haven’t done the best job of staying in touch with you, any of you. I plan to change that.”

“You’re assuming any of us would want to hear from you,” Santana said, but she was smiling, too, as she took Dana’s hand.

“Yeah, that was another one, actually. Part of being in touch is thinking about how much I really want to share about myself, and it turns out I want to share more than I thought I did.” He turned to his mother. “Mom… I’m gay.”

She looked a little taken aback, but she nodded. “All right.”

He exhaled, waiting for more, but she was just listening. “Is… is that it?”

“Thank you for telling me? I suppose I had my suspicions, but I’m glad you felt like you could be honest with me.” She looked at his dad, who nodded, then back to Dave. Her eyes were glittering. “And I’m glad you’re still here with us, honey.”

“Yeah. I’m doing okay. More than okay. I want you to know that. Talking with Finn, finding out about Adam, reminded me that sometimes time is short, and… maybe I should stop worrying so much about how I’m going to get where I’m going, and just begin the journey.”

Santana looked delighted. “Are you saying Hudson is on Team Gay too?”

“Team, uh, pansexual.” He felt himself flush as Dana laughed. “I’m saying—“

The doorbell rang. Dave paused as everyone looked around the table in confusion.

“Are you expecting a delivery?” his father said to his mother.

“Not on Christmas Day.” She rose to her feet. “Let me see—“

“I’ll get it, mom.” Dave was already heading to the door. He would have sprinted if he’d been alone, but as it was, he was trying to appear calm, even if his insides were doing jumping jacks. He had no reason to expect it to be Finn.

But it was. It was Finn, standing right there on the porch, holding—

“My suitcase?” Dave said, blinking.

“Hey,” Finn said breathlessly. “I went to pick up my bag from the airport, and they accidentally gave me yours. So I thought I’d bring it over to your house. Because, uh… five days of you apparently wasn’t enough?”

Finn looked embarrassed enough to be saying those words that Dave didn’t hesitate to reply, “I know exactly what you mean. It’s really good to see you.”

“Yeah.” There was that smile again. It was all for Dave now, and Dave let himself bask in it. “Here, I’m just going to give this to you, and then…” Finn gestured at the driveway, biting his lip. “I have something for you. Something to show you, I mean.”

Dave nodded. “Would it be better to do it later? I’m kind of in the middle of dinner, but if it’s quick…”

“Five minutes,” Finn promised. “Then you can go back to dinner. I just… it couldn’t wait.”

Dave ducked his head back into the dining room long enough to say, “I’ll be back in five minutes, go ahead without me,” and then hurried back to the front hall to put on his coat and boots. Finn waited on the front porch, looking much warmer in a big, shaggy coat.

“Too bad you didn’t have that coat with you on our drive,” Dave said, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Yeah, this is the one I leave in Lima.” Finn moved into step beside him. “If I’d had it with me, though, I wouldn’t have been able to steal yours so many times.”

“Don’t tell me that was strategic on your part.”

“No,” Finn agreed, “it was just lucky.”

He held out his gloved hand. Dave took it without a moment’s thought, and watched the expression on Finn’s face shift into something much more relieved.

“You’re really not sick of me yet?” Finn said.

“Not even a little,” Dave promised. “I think it’s kind of the opposite, actually.”

“What do you mean?” They began to walk toward the street.

“Well, there’s a lot of things I wasn’t letting myself realize I wanted? About friends, and family. And now that I know, I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Finn nodded, ducking his head. “You, too, huh?”

Before Dave could say anything else, Finn turned to face the house. Dave turned alongside him—and laughed out loud.

“How long did it take you to build that?” he exclaimed.

“Maybe an hour,” Finn said, grinning.

Dave returned to the yard where the snow sculpture stood. It had four legs, so it was clearly not a snowman, but Dave wasn’t sure what exactly to call it. He reached up to touch the branches protruding from its head. “Okapi?”

“I was thinking Rudy 2.0,” Finn said. “A zebra dressed up like a reindeer. I didn’t know if we’d ever see the van again, so I wanted to commemorate it in some way. I couldn’t figure out how to give it stripes, though.”

“Well, it’s really pretty good, even without stripes.” Dave patted its nose. “Ten out of ten.”

“Thanks,” Finn said, with a little bow. He took a breath in the silence between them. The sky was gray and heavy with snow, and everything was quiet. “So… I talked to Kurt this morning.”

“Yeah?”

Finn nodded. “We mostly talked about, you know, us, but he wanted to ask about you. And me. And you and me.”

“Yeah? You and me.” Dave wondered what to say about that, but as Finn’s hopeful expression began to fade, he quickly added, “I was going to call you after dinner. I got my phone back.”

“Oh! Hey, that’s great.”

“Yeah, somebody found it in the train car, and Brian had it sent express mail to my house. Another stroke of luck.” He took a step toward Finn. “I think this whole week has been pretty lucky, actually.”

Finn laughed, scratching his head with his mitten. “It’s funny to think about everything we just went through as lucky, but… yeah. I think so too. I mean, for the past two years I was pretty sure I was never going to feel as close to anybody as I did to Adam, but…” He gestured at Dave, who took another step, and smiled. “I guess that’s not true.”

“You guess.” Dave raised an eyebrow. Finn laughed again.

“I mean it isn’t true. I do feel that way.” He moved some snow with the toe of his boot, shifting forward. “It feels like more than luck. A miracle, maybe.”

“A Christmas miracle, huh?” Dave pretended to think it over, then shrugged. “I’ll accept that as possible.”

“I’m not saying everything is better, or I’m any less messed up than I was before this happened.” Finn opened his arms, gesturing at himself, and moved closer. “It’s more like this experience made more room inside me. Uh—“ He paused, his eyes widening. “That’s… not what I meant.”

Dave was laughing. “No, I think I get it. I’m not expecting you to be any different. You’re yourself, where you are, right? That’s—“ He almost said that’s who I fell in love with, but he decided that might be even beyond the boundaries of a Christmas miracle. “I like you how you are.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Kurt could, too, and Elliot.” Finn was standing right before him now. “Hearing Kurt say he thought it was a good thing, that made it a lot easier to come over here today.”

This time Dave was the one to extend his hand. Finn took it.

“You’re cold,” Dave said softly.

“Not really.” He put his other hand on his chest. “I feel warm in here. That’s because of you.”

Dave smiled. “I’m glad you do. I mean… the truth is, I was hoping I might be able to find a different way to keep you warm.”

“One that involves fewer sleeping bags in the backs of vans?”

“Definitely,” Dave agreed. They were only inches apart. His heart gave a few erratic thumps. “Yeah, uh… you think maybe I could—“

Finn didn’t give him an opportunity to finish that sentence. The surface of his lips were cold, but Dave only felt it for a few seconds before the heat of his mouth overcame them. He made a surprised little noise, and Finn chuckled without letting him pull away.

“You’d better,” Finn whispered against his cheek.

The next kiss was briefer, but only because Finn tugged on his hand, encouraging him to follow back toward the house. Dave caught his breath. “My family’s going to have all kinds of questions for you if you come in. And Santana’s here, although you’re never going to believe why.”

“I’m not worried about your family. As long as you’re not?” Finn paused. When Dave shook his head, he smiled and kept walking. “Maybe after dinner, you’ll come back to my house. My mom would like to thank you. Honestly, I think proof of me being happy again would be the most unbelievable part of this whole adventure.”

Dave slid a hand around his waist and rested his head against Finn’s. “Let’s go grant another Christmas miracle, then.”