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ironic glee quote

December 2016



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miggy in gleefic

Fic: "It Goes On and On and On and On"

Title: It Goes On and On and On and On
Pairing, Character(s): Ensemble
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Word Count: 5200
Spoilers: Through "Journey."
Summary: The first part of this was written for this prompt on the angst meme: "Kurt makes a deal with a higher power to trade his life for his mother's. (She never dies, he does instead). Glee Club are the only ones who remember Kurt." This also contains a follow-up story within the same post.
Notes: I wrote and posted that first story, and then found myself wanting to write a follow-up which I posted the next day. The follow-up wound up being probably twice again as long as the first story and covered considerably more time, as you'll see. In the original story, I swapped between two perspectives. In the follow-up, I stuck with one. Just FYI. Also, in the continuity hiccup regarding this, I went with the death eight years ago rather than the ten years one we originally heard.

Part 1

"Okay, guys!" Mr. Schue clapped his hands and called for them from inside the choir room. "Come on in. We've gotta hurry up and get these routines worked out for Regionals!"

Rachel Berry walked toward the door, face flush with excitement. It was almost there. Her chance to truly shine on stage, to prove herself... she could hardly wait. "Everyone," she said, turning around to face the group, heedless of the fact that it meant she was walking in backward. "I hope you've come focused and ready to work today, even more than normal. I am incredibly enthused about our chances and believe that... Noah, you're clearly not paying attention. Is it really too much to ask for—"

Puck cleared his throat. "Uh, dude? Why are you in here?"

Rachel looked over her shoulder at the boy who she thought was a football player sprawled in one of the chairs. She pursed her lips at the casual violation of Glee's space.

The boy, confused, looked at Mr. Schue. "I hit the hall traffic real smooth, and got here early?"

"No," Puck repeated intently, looking around at the other Glee members who had followed them in and gathered around the first entrants. "Why are you in the choir room at all?"

Rachel still had no idea who he was.

"That's a real asshole thing to say," he shot back. "You and Finn, you dragged me in here so you'd have your twelfth person, and now you're poking fun at me for being in Glee?"

Mr. Schue was shaking his head and frowning at Puck. Puck didn't notice. Rachel barely did. "So we'd have our twelfth person?" she repeated, confused. "But we have twelve people. Mr. Schue, I don't know what he's talking about."

Mr. Schue looked just as befuddled as she felt.

"Look," Rachel insisted, gesturing. "Twelve people, we're all here and ready to work."

The group all looked at each other, scanning their ranks together. The realization hit some people a moment earlier, some a moment later, but the same mixture of fear and confusion soon painted every face. "Where is he?" Rachel hissed, not wanting to think on how Mr. Schue seemed to accept the obvious falsehood that they were in need of this fake twelfth member. "Missing practice right before Regionals... this is unacceptable."

Finn shook his head, eyes wide. "I dunno. He didn't say anything."

"What's going on?" Mercedes asked, seeking out Artie and Quinn's hands and squeezing them, hard.

"Guys?" Mr. Schue asked pointedly. "Can we get to work?"

"Mr. Schue?" Finn asked, voice wavering. "This is... why aren't you wondering where Kurt is?"

The man blinked. "Who?"

"Mr. Schue," Rachel slowly began, not at all appreciating his dark efforts at humor, "this really isn't funny. We have our twelve members, we're ready to work, and we need to find out what's happening with our missing singer so we can really get practice taken care of."

Mr. Schue and that strange football player shared a weighty, confused look. "We're... all here, Rachel."

"Stop it," Finn said, pale.

"Kurt. Kurt Hummel," Mercedes said, voice tight. "Where is he? Why are you acting like he shouldn't be here?"

"I don't know what's gotten into you guys," Mr. Schue said, "but I have no idea who you're talking about."

"What kind of X-Files, Twilight Zone shit is this?" Puck wondered loudly, jaw dropped. "This is a twisted joke, Mr. S. Didn't know you had it in you."

"Can we please just get to work?" he pleaded. "Guys, I don't know what's wrong, but you all look like you've seen a ghost and I have no idea why."

Mercedes started hyperventilating. Tina, stroking her arm, asked for someone to please get out their laptop to try to find out what was going on. What a good idea; Rachel was a little ashamed for not having thought of it herself. She dug hers out and dove for the nearest chair; the other members of Glee—the real members of Glee—all followed in a tight semi-circle.


They ignored Mr. Schue.

"I don't... the results are all for random people in Europe," Rachel said, chest tight. "Clearly not him. I don't know what's going on."

"Laws," Santana said. "There are laws against using minors' names. Search for Lima and Hummel. Maybe something about the family?"

It worked. It worked in a terrible, confusing way that Rachel didn't understand. There was an eight year old story about a car accident during a bad storm, and the driver who had lost control and hit the car of the Hummel family. There was a story about parents losing their eight year old son; the car had struck the passenger's side, near the back. There was a story about community efforts to help them recover after their tragic loss. There were three letters to the editor about how that intersection needed to be better marked.

"What the hell?" Puck whispered.

"I don't... I don't understand," Mike said, staring at the screen.

"What's happening?" Finn asked in a tiny voice.

Mercedes had gone entirely silent. She was shaking slightly on her chair.

"Are you guys okay?" Mr. Schue asked, genuinely concerned about the terrified expressions on his students' faces. "I don't know what you guys are talking about, but it's clearly got you really spooked."

Rachel closed her laptop. "Mr. Schue," she said, gaze unfocused. "We have to go."

"You... Rachel, it's hardly more than a week before Regionals. What's going on? Please. Please, guys, clue me in. I want to help."

They didn't bother responding to him as they gathered their things and ran for the parking lot.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Rachel asked Finn as everyone ran.

Finn was nearly losing his mind in his panic. This was like a ghost story. Ghost stories were not supposed to be real. "Their house. I mean... our... their... the house. You guys all... this seems weird to everyone here, right?"

"I'm scared," Brittany said, tears filling her eyes. "I don't know what's going on."

Mercedes was crying openly. "Those stories... they can't be real. Guys, they can't, right? They... you all know him, they can't be real."

"They can't be real," Artie dully agreed.

Finn looked around the parking lot, only then realizing what he was searching for. There was Kurt's normal section that he liked to park in. No large, solid form rested there, marking his parking job that morning. "Who has a car?" he asked in a daze. Once they'd identified potential rides and split up, they booked it for the neighborhood. Finn, in the lead car, gave directions.

The house looked... different. There were more flowers planted out in front, and there was a colorful plastic tricycle in the driveway. As the cars rolled into a line against the opposite sidewalk, Finn stared in horror as a young girl walked out and started playing on the tricycle. A woman carrying a younger boy emerged behind her.

He knew her face. It was older, but he knew her face. He'd seen that face in a few well-dusted frames in the house. "That's his mom," he whispered.

"You're freaking me out, dude," Puck said from the driver's seat. "What the fuck is going on? Why is Hummel gone? Why's his mom around? Why are there kids, and why are we apparently the only people in the world who are clued in to the fact that this is seriously messed-up?!"

"They had more kids," Rachel managed from the back seat. "After."

"After... Rachel, don't you dare say that," Mercedes choked out.

"I'm going to go ask," Finn decided, ripping off his seat belt. He didn't even know what he was going to ask, but he was the only person there that had lived in the house, even for a short time. He was the only person who was going to be... family.

When that word hit him, Finn wanted to double over and throw up as the weight of what was happening really began to sink in. He barely made it across the street and to the property.

Mrs. Hummel—oh God, this was so wrong—looked up as he approached. "Hello, can I help you?" She was pretty. Soft, round features. Wide, open eyes.

Finn had to look at her hairline rather than those eyes. "Hello, uh, ma'am. I'm sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if I could ask you a quick question?"

"Sure," she said, but hesitantly. She clearly wanted to make sure this stranger, and the line of cars he'd come from, wouldn't be a threat.

Finn opened his mouth, trying to reach into the house with his mind, his memories, his heart to find the right question to ask. When he opened them, he saw everything.

Kurt, presented with a choice, now that he'd lived as many days since the crash as he'd had before it. Now that he had that balance and could decide how it had turned out. Kurt, alone in his room, methodically tearing everything down to its blank grey walls. Kurt, asked whether he would hold onto his own life or trade an impact on a front door, eight years earlier, for one on the back.

He loved his mother.

At that moment, he really didn't love himself.

At that moment, he thought his father would once again be alone.

It had been an easy decision.

"I'm sorry," Finn said thickly. "I have the wrong house. Have a nice day."

He turned and walked back to the cars, feet leaden.

When he sat back down in Puck's car and Mercedes saw his expression, she started crying. Her cries grew so loud that Mrs. Hummel looked up with concern.

The line of cars drove away.

Part 2

It was his fault.

Together they drove to a park, where they could wander off and find their privacy for this impossible conversation. He told them everything he'd seen, about the question and offer. The decision. The outcome.

But Finn didn't tell them why Kurt felt the way he did. Even though he knew.

At eight years and five months old, he'd been in a car wreck. At sixteen years and ten months old, he'd been in a slow-motion accident of a different sort with a terrible, wrong conclusion. And it shouldn't have happened like that. It should have boiled over, like it did when Rachel was stringing along three guys for her stupid video or when Puck and Quinn lied to him about what he'd thought was the biggest event in his young life. It would have, if there had been the chance.

But the question had come so soon after their fight.

And Finn knew that made it his fault.

Mercedes was sobbing openly on Tina's shoulder. Artie looked ready to throw up. Rachel was deathly pale. "I don't understand how this could happen," she said very softly.

"What... I mean, who?" Puck asked, still stunned. "God, who?"

Finn shrugged, not trusting his voice once he'd finished talking.

"I don't think I'm an atheist any more," Mike said, staring unfocused at a few blades of grass in his hand.

"So he's just gone?" Quinn asked in a tiny, scared voice. "Kurt's gone? Forever?"

Finn nodded.

"This is stupid," Matt said. "I don't... then why do we remember? And no one else?"

Tina rubbed Mercedes' back as she cried. "I just can't believe it. It's like... I can't believe it. Until I see it."

"It?" Rachel asked.

"Tombstone," Puck said, looking at Tina. She met his eyes and nodded back.

The group was very quiet for a minute. There was a big graveyard on that side of town. It would be the one used, almost certainly.

"I can't," Mercedes whispered. "But... but I have to. I can't, but I have to."

Finn, still not trusting his voice, stood. Everyone else followed.

After an hour of travel and walking slowly among the grave markers, they found it. It was a small, flat plaque against the ground. They'd walked past it once by accident. Kurt Hummel, it said. 1993-2001. Beloved Son.

Finn walked away from the group and made it to the base of a tree before he threw up.

* * *

"Baby," Mom said when he got home. "Are you okay? Your teacher called, he was worried about you guys. And you look terrible. Where have you been?"

"I don't feel good, Mom," Finn told her in a pleading voice. "I just want to head to my room, okay?" She started saying something and he openly begged, "Please, please, I just want to go to sleep really early."

"Okay," she said, clearly still worried. "We'll talk tomorrow. You can go to sleep."

The last time he'd walked into that house, it was filled with boxes from a limbo of a move that might or might not actually go through. Now, the house had everything in place. Finn numbly walked to his room, closed the door behind him, and curled up on his bed.

It was too early to fall asleep; light still filtered through his blinds. He wasn't even going to think about homework. There was no way. Finn, seeking some way to dull his mind until it tired enough to shut down, turned on his Xbox and started playing whatever was in there.

The first time he shot and killed someone, Finn reached over and turned it off.

Blankly, he lay flat again on his bed and waited to pass out. It took more than two hours, but he didn't move at all.

* * *

When he fell asleep, he was guilty and terrified and heartbroken, all about one person. Finn wasn't surprised that he dreamed about him. He was only surprised that he was actually aware of dreaming. He knew some people could manage that trick, but he'd never been able to pull it off.

"You're so small," he said to the young boy in front of him. Too small, if that was the age it all ended at.

"You're not supposed to remember me."

"Is there any way for you to not... could you be you again?" Finn asked. This was a dream, right? That should be possible.

Kurt was abruptly him again, like he'd known him. He was wearing the outfit they'd picked for Regionals. "You're not supposed to remember me," he repeated softly.

"How could you do this?" Finn asked, teary.

"How could I not?" He gestured off at somewhere that Finn somehow knew was Kurt's house. "They're so happy. Four people, not two. A house full of life. Second chances." Kurt only smiled, even though his words seemed like they should be making him tear up, too. "I've watched. For you it took an instant, but I've watched, and it was a lot of pain at first but... but now they're happy."

"There were going to be four people," Finn said, lower lip quivering.

"You didn't want that."

"I didn't... I can't..." He bowed his head. "This isn't fair."

"It's exactly and precisely fair. That's the point."

"Not if we know," Finn said, hugging himself tightly. "What, we're just supposed to pretend we never knew you? That all this, it never happened? We feel like we're crazy. Mr. Schue was looking at us like we were all insane. The rest of the world will think we are."


"Not supposed to remember you. I've got it." Finn risked lifting his head, even though seeing Kurt again finally made his tears start flowing. "Then why do we?"

"I wanted to look after everyone," he admitted. "My family, they were the purpose of all this. But then, my... second family, I guess you could say... you were in my mind, too, when I said yes. I think I messed things up."

"How are you not sad?" Finn wondered, because he clearly wasn't. "You... after everything...."

"Finn," Kurt asked him very gently. "Don't you know where this is? No one's sad. Not when they're really, finally here."

Something about those hesitant words cut through Finn's confusion. It began to dawn on him that this wasn't a fevered figment of his disbelieving, anguished day. "We're really talking." He felt like he should be praying. He didn't even know to who.

"Mmm hmm."

"This is...?"

"Yes." Kurt walked forward and caught his tear-streaked face in his hand. He swiped away a tear with the pad of his thumb. Finn leaned into the touch, amazed that it was happening and heartbroken that the last time Kurt had made a motion toward him like that, he'd shouted him down. When that set him to crying again, Kurt asked him to please stop, it was okay. With a combination of lifting up on his toes and tilting Finn's head down just a bit, he placed one light kiss on Finn's cheekbone, right by his eye. "Please stop crying."

"I can't."

Hesitantly, Kurt leaned back in and kissed him again, feather-light, on his lips. "I'm happy," he promised Finn. "And I'm watching out for everyone. As best I can."

"Can't you take it back?" Finn asked, not even blinking at Kurt kissing him.

"I wouldn't if I could." Kurt squeezed his fingertips. "I'll talk to you later."


Kurt shrugged, smiling again. "Well, if I already screwed the memories up...." He hesitated. "Unless that would make it harder?"

Finn shook his head, hard. "Can you... to everyone?"

"Sure. I'll do it after we finish."

"This is crazy," Finn whispered at him. "Seriously crazy. We're just going to pretend that... even though, when we fall asleep...?"

"You are. And you're still going to Regionals. I didn't care about all of you just so I could watch you throw this all away." Kurt's smile went lopsided. "I suppose 'Don't Stop Believin'' would be appropriate for an entirely new set of reasons." He saw Finn's protest. "If you can't do it for yourselves, then do it for me. I'll ask everyone."

"Okay," Finn promised. "We'll do it."

"Good. I'm going to go, okay?" He caught the pain in Finn's eyes from that and promised, "I will be around for a long, long time for you, Mr. Finn Hudson. When you don't even know you need me."

Finn nodded, and wondered whether that ache in his heart was from sadness or joy.

The next morning, every real member of New Directions stared at each other when they saw each other in the hallway. "Did you...." Mercedes swallowed hard. "Did you guys have a dream that made you really, really think we should still be trying to do Regionals?"

"We're going," Rachel said intently. "And that's just that."

* * *

Two weeks before graduation, Brittany and Santana were in a car accident. Drunk driver, huge SUV, speeding.

Brittany was killed instantly.

Santana should have died as well, but she was pinned in just the right way to hold back blood loss until the EMTs arrived. A one-in-a-million chance, she later heard, although she was too devastated over Brittany's death to process what they were telling her.

When the doctors repeated that to her friends in the hall, they shared a look between them. And they wondered.

Later that week, Finn rested his hand on Santana's shoulder as she sobbed watching Brittany's casket lower into the ground. It was a beautiful day in May, all blue skies and thin white clouds. Birds sang. Off in the distance, carried on the breeze, children laughed. Artie, at her level, clutched her hand in his. She'd only been released for the funeral on the condition that she stay in a wheelchair until she got back in a hospital bed. She was still too weak.

It was almost impossible to picture Brittany inside that casket. Trapped inside that casket. It was dark and plain and absolutely still.

Finn and Puck visited Santana the next morning, to see how she was doing.

"I talked to her last night," Santana whispered. "I don't think it was a dream. I think it was... like him." Her head rolled on the pillow to look Finn in the eyes, then Puck. "It's not the same, it's not as good as having her here, but she's okay. And I can't see her all the time, but I can sometimes."

"Really?" Puck asked, amazed. "But she didn't... I mean... okay, I'm sorry, Santana. But she just died. She died like... like normal. Hummel, I mean... Kurt. He kind of had special circumstances."

Santana flinched. "I know," she managed. "But she was still there. And she said she was going to look after me." Wiping away a tear, she added, "And then she said she had to go, he was way behind on learning the dances. But she'd be back later."

"She said 'he' was," Finn repeated, not wanting to admit to what this all meant.

"Yeah. And I saw... yeah, they were together," Santana said, linking her fingers through Puck's. "It was all the same place."

When the nine of them still alive and not in the hospital saw each other the next morning, every last person had been hugged by Brittany in their dreams the night before.

Artie was the first one to voice what they were all clearly thinking. "I guess we're staying in touch after graduation," he said, very softly. "I guess we're all staying in touch. Eventually."

"This is... I don't understand," Rachel said, nervously tugging on a lock of hair and twirling it around her finger.

"We're family," Mercedes answered. "We all found each other through Glee. We all needed each other." She took Puck's hand in hers, squeezed it once, and let it drop. "Even the people who won't say it out loud, we all needed each other. And we became family."

He smiled at her, and shrugged like he hated to admit it.

"And somehow that big ol'... stupid wish got twisted around and... and family's all looking out for each other."

"But we're all going to different cities," Quinn pointed out. She fingered the cross around her neck, then the charm bracelet she'd started wearing of every other symbol she could think of. Just to be on the safe side.

"I think we'll meet up later," Finn said, staring at the floor. "She said she didn't feel a thing, by the way. I don't know if you guys heard that."

"That's... that's good," Tina said.

They turned as one and watched the students walk past them to classes, and were quietly amazed at the world they knew that those around them had never considered.

* * *

When the members of Mr. Schue's first year of Glee said goodbye to another of their own, they always did so in May.

Guardian angels could only twist fortune this way and that. They couldn't save people from themselves. That was why Rachel Berry ignoring the pain in her body as she chased auditions couldn't be fixed. There was no good luck to be had after ovarian cancer had metastasized to her liver and stomach.

"Rachel," Finn sniffled in his dreams as he lay in his bed, hundreds of miles from where she'd died in a New York hospital. "Why didn't you...?"

"I know," she admitted. "I was stupid. But it doesn't hurt any more. When you're here," she sighed, "it's forever. And when you're still alive, you should pursue it. You should absolutely pursue it with every fiber of your being." She saw his protest. "In a safer way than I did. Because this is... it's soft, and it's beautiful, and it's warm. But it's not living. So you need to live for all of us, for as long as you can. You only get the one chance."

"Sure," he promised her, because who could possibly turn down a request where they were? "Sure. I'll do that."

He was twenty-six, but she looked sixteen. And she was dressed for their first Regionals.

"Is that the time when you were happiest?" Finn eventually asked after just sitting there, silently enjoying her presence and wondering how long it would be until he saw her again. He'd only talked to Brittany once or twice a year. Kurt stopped by at least once a month, but even that was... it wasn't enough.

"What?" She looked down. "Oh. It's..." Rachel considered. "Do you remember the ending to Titanic? When old Rose died, and then young Rose was back with Jack? And it was sweet, but you also wondered if that meant she didn't care about the others she'd spent her life with?"

"I've never actually seen it," he admitted.

"I can't believe I never forced you to sit with me and watch the entire thing," she laughed, nudging him, and this all felt so normal that Finn couldn't believe she was dead. "Let me think of how to put this, then. When you're alive, it's vibrant and exciting and unexpected, but the downside is that there's only the one of you, trapped in space and time. Here... every single facet of you is satisfied, safe, and happy. And why are we finding each other, looking after each other, staying together? Because we all were Glee, we were a family there, and preparing for this was the last time we were all together." She smoothed down her dress. "I can't explain it, Finn. You can't know until you're here. But there's always going to be a part of me in this dress, preparing to sing with all of you."

He nodded, tearing up as he thought back to those times when they'd all been together. "You looked beautiful then, Rachel."

"Thank you, Finn."

She laid her head against his shoulder and stayed there until he woke up.

* * *

For more than twenty years, nine members of Glee had three visitors in their dreams, three people looking out for them.

"I'm pissed," Puck grumbled, shaking his head. "I mean, as much as I can be. I thought I had that turn." He rubbed a hand over his head, feeling the mohawk he hadn't worn since he was a teenager.

"We tried," Rachel said, looking very disappointed in him.

"Helmets," Kurt sighed, "while unattractive, are vital for your safety."

Brittany held up her arms for a hug.

Finn shook his head, too, smiling. He guessed this wasn't stopping, wasn't wearing off. He hadn't seen Puck in fifteen years. But there he was, looking sixteen years old, adjusting the cuffs on his shirt.

"Nice male pattern baldness, dude," Puck winked at him. "Should take a tip from me, just shave it off."

Finn actually started laughing. At some point, the endless joy and performances and friendship of this choir had been filled with people young enough to be his children.

He had three.

Number four was on the way. They'd both been surprised.

It was rare that he actually saw everyone together, very rare, and for a moment he almost didn't want to leave. But of the people here, only Puck had seen his thirtieth birthday. Only Puck had held his children in his arms. (He'd had two of his own, with his girlfriend, well after Beth.) And none of them would ever see grandchildren.

And although this warm, safe place was keeping him from worrying about them in anything past a general desire to help as their new guardian, Puck had left behind children mourning their father.

"Gotta wake up, guys," Finn said after he listened to a performance, amazed at how easily Puck stepped into the harmonies. "I've got people waiting for me."

* * *

Life was hard. Life was hard and painful and sometimes it didn't seem worth it. Finn worked long hours, he tried to help his children with their homework when they presented it one by one, and he went to marriage counseling when they hit rough patches.

He shoveled snow after a blizzard, even though his nose began to get frostbite from the cold, because another one was due to roll in.

He set aside money for graduation presents, even though it meant going without things he wanted. His kids looked so happy.

He made fun of guys at his work when they talked about getting hair plugs.

And over the years to come, he hugged Artie and Mike and Tina and Santana at 2 AM.

In that room, Artie was a wonderful dancer.

Santana had run into Brittany's arms and locked onto her with such ferocity that Finn wondered how much of her life was still tied up in the memories of that 18 year old girl lost to a car accident.

She had Brittany to look after again, but she also had her first, tiny grandchild. Finn could see in her face that she was glad to have both.

"Sounding amazing, guys," he told them all. He'd never told another living soul about what was happening to his old group of friends. Neither had they.

When another blizzard hit the next winter, Finn was on the road, driving back from a conference in Pittsburgh. He was back-ended by a SUV, sending him skidding across the road through three lanes of traffic. A sedan plowed into him. The pile-up began.

"You're lucky to be alive," he later heard, when his battered body was pulled free, bruised but without one single serious injury.

"I know," Finn said.

* * *

They were getting into the realm of "natural causes." "Just too old to live," Finn called it.

His sixth grandchild had sent the invitation to her college graduation.

He doubted he'd be able to make the trip.


At the doctor's office, Finn mentioned that he'd been developing this bad cough and a pain in his back.

Quinn and Mercedes, in the same May Finn died. They were at the beginning. He was at the end.

There wasn't much to give him except painkillers, the doctor quietly informed him, and they discussed hospice care.

When he woke up without pain, he was a father, and a grandfather, and a man proposing to his girlfriend, and everything he'd ever prided himself on being. Part of Finn Hudson looked down at himself and smoothed his glossy tie against the shirt he wasn't surprised to be wearing.

"We've been waiting," Rachel informed him, hands on her hips. "You took longer than expected." But then she dropped her hands and smiled. "Good work." He wondered where all the parts of her were, and how wonderfully they were performing and loving and celebrating.

Finn smiled back at her. Realizing who was next to him, Finn slung his arm easily around Kurt's shoulders and left it there. "Hey, guys."

"We've been working on something," Kurt told him.

Finn nodded. That made sense. They had been waiting. "Then catch me up," he said, "and we'll take it from the top."


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And again I love you more. I should have known it was you, you're one of the only writers who can bring me to actual tears.

I de-anon'd because you were requesting it. :)
Oh my GOD I think you broke me. This hurt, so bad, but it was beautiful at the same time. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Thank you! It was like nothing I expected to write in this fandom, ever, but that prompt just squirmed into my head.
SRSLY. I'm generally not into those 'AU' fics, but this one made me cry.
Beautiful, thanks for writing.
Thanks for giving it a chance. :) And I'm glad you enjoyed it, even with that first emoticon!
This was just lovely, in a sad, hopeful way. Bravo!
Thank you! :)
Very different than what I expected- Kurt wasn't convinced his choice was wrong. Pardon the pun, but I think "haunting" describes this fic best.
Oh, interesting. (And now I feel kind of bad for just going, "Welp, yep! That was the wish! Now he's dead!")

Thanks for the "haunting" feedback, I think that is a very nice term to hear for this. :)
Reading this while listening to "For Good" from the Wicked soundtrack is NOT. A. GOOD. IDEA.

It was amazing and wonderful and I cried. A lot. Expecially when Brittany and Santana were reunited.

Perfectly perfect. It shows the family dynamic between everyone beautifully. That last line was flawless.

Thanks for the great story, no thanks for the tears. :P Much love.
Reading this while listening to "For Good" from the Wicked soundtrack is NOT. A. GOOD. IDEA.

OMG. That song. Not to pimp my fic, but it showed up in something else I did and I listened to it while writing to get myself into that mode. God, that song makes me blubber to embarrassing levels!

Thanks for the great story, no thanks for the tears. :P Much love.

Thank you, I think. :)
Really very sweet. You did incredibly well with the prompt. This was a lovely little read. Great job.
Thank you so much! You made me tear up so much with "Facebook," that's a huge compliment from you. :)
I don't think I've ever read anything more beautiful than this. This fic was perfect in so many ways.

Like others, I thought it might end up with Kurt regretting his decision, but this story has truly touched me in a way I didn't think a fanfic could.

Bravo, my dear, this is a piece of art.
Oh wow, thank you. This is an amazing comment to receive and you've put a big smile on my face.
You killed Brittany. *sob*
To be fair, I killed everyone!
This story was even more surreal than Twin Peaks, and That is a good thing.

I cried while reading this and I didn't get it at times, but this is amazing. I do see that you have written an amazing story that reminded me so much of "Six Feet Under" and I love that.

Miggy, your fic brain is made of good things. *hearts*
Aww, thank you so much. :)

(I have never seen Six Feet Under, that is one of the series that is totally on my list.)
I think one of the saddest things about this is that Finn and Carole never have either Burt or Kurt. Those four just need each other.
I know, that made me sad writing it! A "brother" visiting once a month isn't the same as having that family.

I did sort of amuse myself with picturing the moment when Burt dies and he becomes aware of everything that happened.

"Hi, Dad! :D"
oh my god. this is so good you have me shaking my dear... ;u;
Thank you! <3
Oh my God, I can't stop crying! ;w;

That was absolutely beautiful, and words can not describe...just...GAH!

I absolutely love fics that have heavy mentions of all of them being 'family'. And Santana seeing Brittany again...and Finn and Kurt...and the end...

I love this.

I absolutely love fics that have heavy mentions of all of them being 'family'.

I love this, too. :) It was why I was sitting there after finishing the first one, going, "...I met the prompt, but I totally can't leave it THERE! *write write write*"

I'm glad you liked it!
I...can't even form words. I mean, it was ALL so sad, but I'm so happy you did more to this, because it's just.. gorgeous and heartbreaking but also upliftingish and hopeful and they're all TOGETHER again and the ending line is just. yeah.

I guess I could form SOME words.
<3 <3

Glad you liked it, babe. :3

(This is totally not the style of fic I ever expected to write in this fandom!)

appropriate hp icon has never been more appropriate

Hi. My best friend died in a car accident in November. So I came into this story expecting to cry and I was all prepared. But this? This was so much more than just a sad, surreal story. This is hope and definition and light in a dark place. You took the fear of death out of their lives and I love that more than anything.

I started crying here: "We've been waiting," Rachel informed him, hands on her hips. which was later in the story than I expected, but well worth the wait. <3

Regardless of your actual beliefs, this is an incredibly moving story. Thank you so much for picking up that prompt.

Re: appropriate hp icon has never been more appropriate

Thank you for this comment. I'm so very sorry for your loss, I truly am.

While I'm glad when anyone likes a story, I'm very glad that you seem to have gotten something, anything, out of it, even if it's just basic enjoyment.

Have a wonderful tomorrow. <3
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