Finn bounced nervously in his seat, wheeling the little stool as close as he could get it to Rachel, one of his crutches clattering to the ground in the process. He cringed at the loud clang that the metal hitting metal made, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. No matter how much his knee hurt (and that day was a bad day), he and Rachel were going to see their baby today. To say that Finn couldn't wait was an understatement.
"You okay?," he asked Rachel worriedly, clasping her hand as he did.
She bit her lip, a smile on her face. "Oh, Finn, I'm fine," she told him, stroking the back of his hand with her fingers. "Just excited to see her again."
Rachel had been to see the baby loads of times. Okay, twice. But he was still slightly jealous.
He leaned over and buried his head against her belly, blowing the baby raspberries. She giggled, and he felt the ripple of movement in response. "That tickles," Rachel told him, blushing a bright red.
"Daddy gets to see you soon," Finn trilled to her belly with excitement, only getting happier when their daughter responded by getting super active, like whoa. "You like this, don't you? You like Daddy being here? You gonna show off for me?"
He pressed a kiss to the baby's favorite spot, beyond pleased with himself and what they had created. "Someone's excited," his wife murmured, her hands running through his hair. "You feelin' better, now?"
He nodded. His knee totally killed but he was able to ignore it for the most part, especially since the doctor's appointment that Rachel had scheduled had gone really, really, well. His wife was healthy and their baby girl was healthy. Right on schedule, their doctor had said.
"Can we get ice cream later?," she asked, eyeing him hopefully. He nodded. He loved ice cream. He loved her. Shit, he would have eaten some totally nasty tofu thing if that had been what made his Rachie and his baby happy.
"Whatever my best girlies want," he told her, eyes glinting with happy tears. "Just say the words."
The arrival of the ultrasound technician snapped Finn out of his playful mood, and he smoothed down Rachel's shirt, fixing his best serious look on his face. This was awesome.
Rachel shivered slightly as the tech applied the gel, assuring Finn rather hastily that it was normal, and she directed his attention to the screen, where Finn could hear a loud, clear as day, thumping sound.
"That's your baby's heartbeat," the sonographer informed him. "Baby's heart is right where it should be."
Awesome, he thought, squeezing Rachel's hand tightly, grinning widely as the image on the screen came to life, and he saw their baby girl, totally showing off for the two of them. "She's your daughter, babe," Finn teased, awed. "She's showin' off for the camera."
"She's showing off for you, Finn," Rachel corrected. "She loves her daddy."
"Really?," he asked, awed.
"Yes," she said, "You're daddy, you're her favorite guy. And she knows you're watching her."
"Mom, she knows who I am!," Finn's voice, though crackling over the phone lines, was clearly filled with child-like excitement. Carole smiled to herself as she washed the dishes, enjoying the sound of her son's voice. "Rach says she loves me. My baby loves me. And I love my baby."
"I know, baby boy," she replied, putting the dishes in the drying rack. "I think it's very sweet."
"You gonna come see us?," he asked. "Come on, you visited loads when I was in the hospital."
Carole bit back a sigh, worrying her lower lip slightly. "You want me to come visit you?"
Finn coughed, after a moment of silence that was most likely him nodding into the phone. "Yeah, it'd be awesome. You and Dad should both come."
"Okay, honey," she agreed, cradling the phone with her shoulder as she dried her hands with the dish towel and walked out of the kitchen and to the living room, where Burt was sat, watching a college football game. She sat down beside her husband on the couch, holding the phone up to her other ear as she snuggled close to him. "For Thanksgiving?"
He made a pained sound. "N-no, Mom, we thought we could come out," he replied. "You know, a nice Lima Thanksgiving?"
Carole clucked soothingly into the phone, smiling up at Burt as he wrapped his arm around her. "Whatever you want, dear," she told her son, shrugging her shoulders. "If you want to do the holiday out here instead of in New York or DC, that's fine with me."
More crackling was heard from the other end, though it was followed by the sounds of Finn chewing on something. "You sure?," he asked, his words muffled. "Because I don't...you can come up...Mom, I'm so sorry."
"What are you sorry for, sweetie?," she asked, exchanging a worried look with Burt. "Did something happen?" Her mind filled with dread, not at all amused at what sort of potential calamities her mostly recovered son could get up to. "Finnegan?," she demanded, when the only response was the sound of him eating.
"Sorry, Ma," he mumbled. "I was eating a ring ding."
"Yes, but what are you sorry for?," she repeated, feeling a bit like a broken record.
"Did I ruin everything?," he asked softly. "When I came home? Did I ruin everything?"
"You didn't," she promised. "Honey...what happened? Is it Rachel?"
"No!," he insisted, the love and pride coming out of his voice. "No, Rachel...she's been great," he assured her. "I love Rachel, she doesn't think I'm a loser or that I'm being ridiculous when I tell her I don't like loud noises and she's having our baby, Ma. 's not her, I love her. Love my Rach."
"Why do you think you're ruining everything?," she asked, furrowing her brow.
"Blaine," he muttered, his tone darkening. "He makes me feel like sh--dirt. Sorry, Ma."
Carole sighed, pressing her hand to her temple. "I don't understand," she told him. "What do you mean? Blaine has known you for years --"
Burt stiffened beside her, a hardened look gracing his features, and she patted his knee comfortingly. "He's always thought he was better than me," Finn continued. "Sorry, not all of us can go to a fancy prep school an' get into a fancy drama school an' sing on off-off-off Broadway. An' why's that so special, anyways?"
She prepared to speak, but Finn rambled on, after pausing for breath. "I didn't think I did that bad, Ma. I know...I know you and Dad, you and Dad, you didn't want me to go into the Army, but I didn't think I did that bad."
"You didn't, sweetie," she assured him. "And I am sure that Blaine will come around."
Carole held back a sigh. In truth, she wasn't so certain. Burt reached out for the phone, clearly wanting to speak to their son.
"Can I say hi to Dad?," Finn asked hopefully. "I wanna tell him about Rach's appointment." The proud tone was back again, and Carole's heart melted.
"Of course, baby," she cooed. "He's right here."
She handed the phone to Burt, who took it willingly. "Hey, son," he said. "Your mom says that you got to see your little girl?"