What It Means To Be Brothers

It began with a test.

The semester was still young, barely three weeks in, and it was four-thirty on a Thursday afternoon. Kurt had left the Navigator at school so Finn could drive himself home from football practice and had just arrived home himself, Blaine having dropped him off after a quick coffee date. He had just settled in with the last of this week's cookies and his Physics homework when the screen door slammed and Finn appeared, looking disgruntled.

Kurt lifted an eyebrow and considered his brother with bored curiosity. "You're home awfully early; was football practice canceled?"

Finn grunted and shook his head, making a beeline for the fridge and guzzling the milk straight from the carton. Kurt winced, but didn't comment.

"Is everything okay?" he asked instead.

Finn wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and replaced the milk, shaking his head as he flopped onto an empty kitchen chair. "It's just a stupid English test. We got the papers back today and I failed! I looked through it and it didn't make sense, so I tried to ask the teacher, but she dismissed me and said I should study more." He ducked his head, breaking eye contact. "Coach sent me home after twenty minutes, said to come back when I could concentrate."

"It's just the first test," Kurt told him, frowning. "I'm sure we can figure something out and you'll do better next time..."

"No, it's not that it's just... it doesn't make any sense! Here, let me get it and maybe you'll understand...."

He jumped up from the table and was off, presumably in search of his backpack, and Kurt nibbled on a cookie while he waited.

"Here," Finn repeated in a huff when he returned, thrusting a paper into Kurt's hands.

Kurt skimmed it. "I'm no genius," he said after a time, "but those look an awful lot like the right answers to me. I read Great Expectations a few years back..."

"Yeah, that's my point!"

"You should try talking to her again, Finn," Kurt suggested with a shrug. "There's got to be some misunderstanding..."

"I'll say," Finn cut in.

Kurt sighed. "Hey, you know the best solution to stress? Cookies!" He pushed the plate across to his brother, purposely not looking at the very last of the tempting treats. "Why don't you grab the rest of that milk you ruined?"

At that, Finn finally cracked a smile. "Yeah. Thanks, dude."

*******

A few weeks later, Kurt stumbled over his brother in the school library.

"Finn!" he exclaimed, startling the taller boy awake from where he'd been drooling on an open book.

"Huh?"

"What in the world are you doing here?"

Finn looked confused. "This is the school library, right? And I do go to school."

"You do," Kurt agreed, chuckling a little. "It's just that I've never seen you here before."

"I've been here!"

"Yeah, maybe when the teachers bring the whole class down for research. It's Saturday, Finn."

"I know!" Finn said defensively, looking put-out. Then his expression broke and he sighed. "It's this paper. We got the rough-drafts back, and Ms. Clarington pretty much dissed every sentence I wrote. Apparently I "fail to grasp the subtle political connotations, Mr. Hudson."

Kurt lifted the corner of Finn's book to read its cover. "Animal Farm? Political, yes, but I don't recall it being particularly subtle. You did read it?" he asked finally, giving his brother a pointed look.

"Yeah, every word. Okay, maybe I had to have Rachel explain some of it to me, and she helped me come up with a thesis, but I still read it!" He groaned and rubbed at his eyes. "And now I'm re-reading it..."

"This is far from terrible," Kurt said, flipping through his paper. "It may not be a great philosophical analysis, but your points are all on-target..."

"She hates me," Finn deadpanned. "That must be it. But I don't even know what I did! I mean, yeah, she caught me blowing that spit wad at Jimmy last week, but I've been on my best behavior ever since, I swear!"

"You should try talking to her," Kurt suggested, though less enthusiastically this time. "And if that doesn't work, go to Figgins..."

Finn shook his head. "The man's pretty oblivious when it comes to the behavior of his staff. Look what he lets Coach Sylvester get away with!"

"Try," Kurt insisted. "Look, I'll help you with this paper, and if nothing works... we'll figure something out."

If only Kurt had any clue as to what that 'something' might be...

*******

By November, Finn's problems still hadn't improved.

"You have Ms. Clarington, right?" Kurt asked Blaine over dinner. It was their weekly "date" night—the one night they'd agreed to go to a restaurant or a movie as opposed to hanging out at home due to Kurt's limited budget. Normally it was time they enjoyed and savored, but tonight Kurt was distracted and fed-up. He'd spent nearly five hours of his free time the previous weekend helping Finn with an upcoming presentation, only to learn today that, yet again, his brother had failed.

"Yeah," Blaine answered, brow furrowing in worry at Kurt's tone. "What of it?"

Kurt huffed, than began his rant. "She's been making Finn's life hell all year, and even with my help, he's failing. I know the stuff he's been turning in is good, and yet it's never enough. It's blatantly clear that she's being unfair!"

"Has he talked to anyone about it?"

"Figgins, at my insistence," Kurt nodded. "He only suggested that Finn buy her a fruit basket as a piece offering."

"Wow, that sucks," Blaine said sympathetically. "I haven't had any problems with her, but now that you mention it, there are a few students in my class she seems to particularly dislike."

"Yeah?"

"Just Charity and Ashley—they're on the cheerleading squad with Brittany and Santana—and this one hockey player I can't recall the name of. Oh, and strangely enough, sometimes Artie."

Kurt's eyes widened. "That must be it, then!"

"What?"

"Don't you get it? They're all the popular kids—football players and cheerleaders!"

Blaine looked thoughtful for a moment. "I guess you're right," he said finally. "I'm in the advanced junior class; I think those are the only athletes in there..."

Kurt sighed. "I guess the question now is: what do we do about it?"

"I hate to say this, but if Figgins didn't do anything, they might just be stuck..."

Kurt shook his head furiously. "I don't get it. Why are there so many prejudiced idiots in the world!? Why do they always get away with it!?"

Blaine reached for his hand, smoothing his thumb over Kurt's skin in a way that usually calmed him. "I wish I knew the answer to that, too," he offered quietly.

Kurt squeezed his hand and gave him a tiny smile. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't mean to let this ruin our date."

"It's not ruined, Kurt," Blaine assured him, smiling in return in a way that sent a wave of heat thrumming through Kurt's body. "You know the best part's still to come. I'm sure I can take your mind off of things once we get to the car... but first, how about some cheesecake?"

"You know me too well," Kurt replied, more grateful than ever to have such an amazing boyfriend.

Blaine winked, and this time he even looked the other way when Kurt snapped for the waitress.

Sometimes life sucked, but Blaine and cheesecake never failed to make everything better.

*******

By Christmastime, a solution had yet to be found.

Finn was passing the semester by the skin of his teeth, and only because Kurt helped him put together a portfolio of his work and forced both Miss Pillsbury and Principal Figgins to look through it. Miss Pillsbury had then agreed to plead his case with Ms. Clarington. Unfortunately, she remained convinced that the teacher was merely guilty of an oversight and not outright discrimination.

This left only one solution, and it was neither simple, nor easy, nor perfect.

Kurt first addressed the matter with Rachel, with whom he currently shared AP English Literature.

"While I understand and appreciate your desire to help Finn, Kurt, of course I do, this is the equivalent of NYADA suicide! You have to think of yourself, too, and how this will look on your application. I can't very well go to New York without my best gay!"

"Believe me, I'm aware of that," Kurt responded, shuffling to balance the books in his arms while he attempted to lift the thick Calculus text out of his locker. "But if Finn fails, there's no chance of him coming with us, Rachel. He might not even graduate!"

Rachel looked distraught. "I'm worried about that too," she conceded. "But you don't know that it will even help, Kurt. What is it you plan to do? Fix the teacher with your epic bitch glare and hope it frightens her into being fair?"

"That could be an interesting acting exercise," Kurt deadpanned.

"Well, if you insist on doing this, then my final word is that it's very noble of you," Rachel caved with a sigh. "I'm going to miss you in class."

Kurt closed his locker and clicked the lock into place, turning to her with a shrug and a level stare. "Me too," he said sincerely, "but Finn is my brother." Looping his arm through Rachel's, the pair started down the hallway. "Now let's talk about how I'm going to do this..."

With Miss Pillsbury he decided to be direct, if not honest.

"I need to transfer English classes next semester. I know I've always been in advanced classes, but this year the work load is simply too heavy."

"But Kurt," Miss Pillsbury protested, looking down over his papers in confusion, "it says here that you've had an A all semester..."

"Exactly," Kurt cut in, "and you know what it's cost me to maintain that? There's no possible way I can handle my NYADA audition in April on top of all those essays!"

She still didn't look convinced, so Kurt pressed on.

"If I don't drop AP English, Miss Pillsbury, I'm going to have to quit Glee!" he improvised, fumbling to come up with something else, "and plus my relationship is suffering!"

At this the guidance counselor's brow furrowed. "But didn't Blaine give you that adorable promise ring just yesterday?"

Kurt shook his head, feeling frustrated. "Look, I really need to switch classes. You're not going to change my mind."

"I don't advise it, but if it's that important to you I won't stop you, Kurt," she finally agreed with a look of concern. "Now, which class is it that you'd like to switch into?"

"English 12 with Ms. Clarington, please."

"Let's see here..." Kurt watched as she shuffled through another pile of papers. "Ms. Clarington has two sections of English 12, but one's during Glee class and the other's during your history class... but oh, there's a second section of AP History during your current English class. I only see one problem here!"

"Yes?"

"The third period English class is already full. I'm afraid you'll have to get Ms. Clarington's permission to transfer in, and I've heard that she can be a tough sell."

Kurt rolled his eyes at the understatement, grateful that Miss Pillsbury's were still glued to her desk so she didn't see. "Don't worry, I'll figure it out."

Being a good brother was shaping up to be much more complicated than Kurt had bargained for.

*******

Unsurprisingly, the middle-age teacher gave him a run for his money. It was fortunate that Kurt was such a good actor (and also not a cheerleader or a jock.) Throwing in a mention of how his stellar record might boost the class's overall GPA amid the crocodile tears he put on probably didn't hurt, either.

Now all that was left to do was to sit back and endure the tedium.

And also his father's fury.

"What's this I hear about you switchin' English classes?" Burt Hummel demanded over dinner a month later.

Kurt shot Finn a glare over the roast, but his brother was too busy shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth to notice.

"I was having some trouble with AP English," he stated calmly, avoiding his dad's eyes. "I didn't want the work load to take away time from my NYADA audition."

"Somehow, I don't recall teaching you to shy away from hard work, Kurt," Burt leveled with his son. "What I do recall is you bringing home an A in English last semester. How about you be honest with me?"

"English 12 is hard work," Finn put in helpfully.

"Sweetie, don't talk with your mouth full," Carole chided him.

Finn swallowed loudly. "I'm serious," he continued. "Ms. Clarington's a slave driver, and she's impossible to please."

Burt's brow furrowed in suspicion. "Is that that teacher who's been giving you hell all year?" He asked Finn, but then rounded on Kurt without waiting for an answer. "You're in her class now? Voluntarily?"

Kurt pretended to focus on cutting up his meat into tiny, congruent pieces. "Finn and I are in the same class," he answered. "The only other one interfered with Glee."

"And I'm sure she's the only teacher available," Burt grumbled.

Kurt shrugged.

"Well, I guess on the bright side you and Finn can help each other out now," Carole chimed in with a smile.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed, shooting her a grateful look. "That's the lucky coincidence."

*******

Unfortunately, as Rachel had pointed out, Kurt learned quickly that there really wasn't much he could do to improve Finn's situation. It was helpful to have first-hand knowledge of the class while assisting Finn with assignments, but that didn't do much to improve his grades when the teacher was biased anyways. Kurt used his quick wit to run interference in class and make sure his brother's points got fair acknowledgement, but that too had only the most minimal impact on Finn's grades. Anything more would risk Kurt's good standing as well, and it wouldn't do either of them any good if she turned on him, too.

As graduation crept closer, Kurt was dismayed to find that Finn was in much the same boat he had been last semester, and he was at a loss as to what to do.

Then they received their final assignment, and inspiration hit.

"Class, I have some good news," Ms. Clarington announced at the start of their last month of school. "I've decided that this year, I won't be giving a final exam—"she paused, waiting out the whoops and the cheers. Kurt watched her patiently, reading in her face that the ball was about to drop. Sure enough—"instead, I've decided to assign you a final reflective essay in addition to the research reports you've all been working on."

Kurt smirked as his classmates groaned and muttered, Rick the Stick's smile freezing rather comically. He wished he'd brought a camera; the yearbook committee might be interested in a few more candid shots of their most popular seniors.

"You are all on the brink of an important life change," Ms. Clarington continued. "Therefore, your assignment will be to choose another big change you've experienced over the course of your life and write about how it impacted you, what you learned from it. Three to five pages please, double-spaced, twelve-point font. You know the drill."

Finn leaned closer to Kurt. "Dude, I'm totally going to need you to run ideas with me," he whispered, already looking troubled.

"Mr. Hudson! Your attention where it belongs, please! And yours as well, Miss Pierce," she said, snatching a crayon drawing from Brittany's desk as she walked past.

For once, Kurt hardly noticed, his mind focused on spinning one final plan.

*******

Later that evening, Kurt sat down with Finn and went over ideas for his paper. Some Kurt encouraged—losing his father, even though Finn couldn't really remember it. Burt and Carole's marriage, of course. Joining Glee club, or winning a game for the football team.

Others...

"I'm not sure that your first time with Rachel is an appropriate choice for a class paper, Finn," Kurt told him calmly. "And it might be best not to disclose the fact that you ran over a mailman unless absolutely necessary..."

Finn looked confused. "But that's the best one," he protested. "I learned about, you know, being careful and stuff. Plus it's come in handy every time I'm making out and, you know, I—"

"Finn!" Kurt interrupted with a shout. He took a deep breath, smoothing his hair across his forehead. "You're not doing that one, case closed," he insisted.

"What are you doing?" Finn asked, seeming to consider this for the first time.

Kurt smiled at him. "Something important that I assure you has nothing to do with my sex life."

"Really? Cause dude, I could totally tell a major difference in you after you and Blaine—"

"Finn!"

This time, his brother had the decency to look abashed. "Sorry," he offered.

"That's okay," Kurt replied, grateful to have the subject dropped. "Now, let's get back to work..."

Finn's paper was clearly going to be a challenge. Fortunately, Kurt knew that his own essay would be a breeze—even liberating—to write.

*******

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel May 18, 2012

English 12 Ms. Clarington

What It Means To Be Brothers

I've spent most of my life as a loner. To begin with, I was an only child. Making friends has always been a struggle for me. If asked, most of my peers would attribute this to "he's weird" (with varying degrees of negative connotation.) I would say that I'm simply more fabulous than most people. With all great gifts come heavy burdens.

Unlike most children, I never wanted a sibling. Siblings mean competition, and I was always happy living in the spotlight. I wanted to feel special, and my parents always gave me that, especially my mother. It was a great system while it lasted. Then my mother died, and a brother or sister was no longer a possibility. For a time I almost regretted my former conviction; we've all heard before that misery loves company. My second thoughts didn't last. My father and I settled into our solitude and became comfortable, if not happy.

Fast-forward eight years, and we were both still very much alone. We had each other. He had the tire shop, and I had the glee club. For the first time in my life I was beginning to make friends, but it still wasn't enough. Thus—in a fit of self-interest too humiliating to expound upon here—I introduced my father to a friend's mother. Sometimes the best laid plans work out even better. It wasn't my intent, but somehow a new family was born.

Suddenly, I had a brother.

Given the blatant ignorance of most of my peers, I have spent many of my high school days as a practice target for the Neanderthal Olympics (which undoubtedly you, as a member of the McKinley faculty, have deliberately chosen not to notice). I purposely withheld this information from my father for as long as possible, but when he inevitably found out, a whole slew of new responsibility was abruptly foisted upon my new stepbrother's shoulders. Neither of us were prepared for this. We were the same age, after all, but he was bigger, stronger, popular, and normal: everything I am not.

For these very reasons, on which I will opt-out of elaborating, we had somewhat of a history at the time of our parent's marriage. As is the proud tradition of high schools everywhere, our fellow students found it most amusing to use our association in an attempt to drag him down to my level of the totem pole. The threat of social drop is terrifying for the best of people, which my brother most decidedly is. He struggled; we struggled. Ultimately, he sang me a song and made me a promise I'll never forget: "From now on, no matter what it costs me, I got your back."

And he always has.

It's gone above and beyond standing up to my bullies. Since our union as a family, he has helped me sneak an inebriated friend into our house and past my father when it wasn't safe for him to return home. When both my father and my boyfriend dared to question one of my more remarkable outfit choices, my brother simply said, "dude, that rocks, it's like gay Braveheart!" There was the time I desperately wanted to ditch class to catch a one-time-only appearance of one of my favorite Broadway idols in Columbus, and he covered for me both at school and with our parents. (Perhaps I shouldn't be disclosing these things in a class essay?)

Sadly, it wasn't until this year that it occurred to me to ask myself: what have I done for him? Sure, I've helped him with his homework, and I covered for him that night he didn't make curfew after a date. But I haven't risked anything that really matters, not in the same way. I haven't sacrificed my reputation, or questioned my moral beliefs, or put my freedom from parental restrictions on the line. I have a brother, but have I been a brother?

What does it mean to be brothers?

In spite of all the hell I've faced at McKinley, I have always been a good student. This year I signed up for AP European History, AP Calculus, AP Physics... and AP English Literature. My brother took the standard lineup. He is far from stupid and has always made good grades from what I'm told, but for the most part his talents lie elsewhere. In the past, I have helped him with Social Studies and Math, arguably his weakest subjects, but to my surprise this year he needed help in another area: English. This was strange. What was odder still was that even when we spent hours perfecting a rough draft and ran it by our mom and several friends, he still failed to manage a grade better than a D.

Now is the time to confess that I lied to you, Ms. Clarington. I did not find AP English Literature "too challenging." The tears I cried were stage tears and not those of frustration. I desperately sought to transfer into your class because I suspected that you were being biased in your grading of my brother's work, and I wanted to figure out why; I wanted to try to fix it. I wanted to be a good brother.