Kurt Hummel's Series Of Unfortunate Events
Summary: Mosquitoes. Leeches. Tents. Camping is the last thing Kurt Hummel wants to do in the summer but when Burt decides the Hudmels need some bonding time in the wild, he's got no choice. Thus begins a series of rather unfortunate events...Furt Barole
Disclaimer: Nope, I've got nothing to do with Glee. Except for obsessing over it, that is;)
A/N: Hey guys:) So. The idea of Kurt in the wild with Finn and the parents has been on my mind for a long time – I finally had to do something about it and so I present you this ficlet. It will be a brotherly Furt-centric summer story with a sprinkling of Barole and all kinds of family bonding. There will probably be seven to eight chapters (I don't think Kurt would survive more;), and it's all pretty much mapped out and drafted so the updates should be regular. I hope you'll join me and the boys in this adventure:)
Now I'll leave you to reading and meet you at the bottom.
I. The Bumpy Beginning
Just kill him now.
"Camping, dad? Really?"
"Yup," Burt confirmed calmly, ignoring his son's incredulous tone. After all, he'd been expecting nothing else. He might not always understand his child but he knew him well. "We wanted to do something outdoorsy and off the beaten track."
"Why not a hike through the Amazonian jungle, then?" Kurt asked sarcastically.
"Too crowded," the elder Hummel deadpanned. "We'll consider it next year but this year it's Pike Lake, Ohio. Sorry."
An epitome of defiance, Kurt crossed his hands on his chest. "No way, dad."
"Listen, booger, I know it's not really your thing-"
The teen scoffed. "Not my thing? Dad, there's one thing I hate more than the outdoors and that's being in the outdoors! And calling me embarrassing nicknames won't exactly get you on my good side," he added as an afterthought.
Burt sighed. "Kurt, don't you think you're being a little-"
"No, I'm being a lot, dad!" he interrupted. "How could you possibly think it's a good idea to cart us off into the woods for a week? Cart me off? What am I supposed to do there, dad?"
"At the risk of sounding old, wise…and clichéd-" Burt began with a sigh, "-it's not about what you'll be doing but who you'll be doing it with."
Kurt resisted an eye roll. "In that case why can't we go to a spa hotel?"
Burt gave him a steady look, raising one eyebrow. Finn, who was seated opposite his stepfather, marveled at how exactly like Kurt he looked in that moment. He didn't envy his stepbrother – he'd been on the receiving end of that particular stare way too many times and it wasn't pleasant.
"I want this holiday to be about the four of us being together, son," Burt said slowly. "In my book that doesn't include cucumber on my eyes or a masseuse called Alejandro rubbing some flowery-scented stuff into my back."
"Can I change my mind?" Carole piped up mischievously from the side.
Burt's lips twitched upwards but he controlled himself instantly and leveled his gaze back at his son.
Kurt also fought with amusement for a while before meeting his dad's gaze with a sigh. "I get that, dad. I really do," he said in a softer tone. "What I don't get is why this bonding has to involve mosquitoes and mud. I can think of a million ways that don't."
"Come on, Kurt!" Finn decided to throw his weight behind Burt, terrified by the vision of Alejandro. Also, he still wasn't completely convinced that cucumbers couldn't give you AIDS. "Camping's really awesome. It will be fun!"
Kurt rolled his eyes. Of course Finn would be no help. Being such a boy, he'd jump at any opportunity to get himself dirty, sleep on the ground, catch fish bare-handedly and God knows what other barbaric activities 'camping' entailed.
"Finn Hudson, is there any part of me that gives you the idea that I consider being in the outdoors fun?"
"Dude, have you ever actually been in the outdoors?" the quarterback asked rather rationally. "And I don't mean a park or something but like, a real forest?"
Kurt sniffed and gave him a pout. "No," he admitted unwillingly.
"So how do you know you don't like it?"
The smaller boy narrowed his eyes at him. "You're so right. What could I possibly not like about sleeping in a bag on the ground, having to pee behind a bush or eating food from cans? That sounds like so much fun."
"Now you're just abusing sarcasm, kiddo," Burt remarked wryly.
"No. I'm simply voicing my opinion in this discussion."
"Who ever said it was a discussion?" the elder Hummel asked with obvious amusement. "We're going camping and that's it."
His lips a thin line, Kurt looked at him defiantly. Carole decided to step in and put a shoulder around her stepson.
"Honey, this is our last summer together before you boys get all grown up, go off to college and won't want to spend your holidays with old-timers like us," she said. "And we haven't spent as much time with you two as we'd like to this year so let us make it up to you. We've all been through a lot these last months and I think we could use some alone time away from here," she continued softly and saw something flash behind Kurt's eyes. She had a good suspicion what it was and her heart contracted. She'd come to love the amazing boy next to her as much as her own son and she knew that just like with Finn, she would move heaven and earth to make that haunted look disappear from his eyes. For now, all she could do was hug him tighter.
Kurt looked up, startled, but he read something in her steady gaze that drained much of the tension from his form.
Carole smiled. "Besides, I hear mud's really good for the complexion," she added playfully.
Kurt's mouth twitched upwards and for the first time he felt that maybe it wasn't such a tragically awful idea if it meant spending some time with the people who cared about him and loved him just the way he was. In the mud. Ugh. He was going to regret this.
Carole saw the change in her stepson's stance and knew he was almost there so she let go of him and put her hands on her hips.
"So, like it or not, you're going, mister," she announced to the room. "You can sulk or you can make the best of it, it's up to you, but you're an important part of this family and you're going. We want you there with us."
"Yeah, that and we've already paid for you," Burt added snidely.
Kurt groaned, shooting his dad a sideways glance.
"Fine," he conceded with a long-suffering sigh. "As long as you realize I will gripe and complain. A lot."
"Deal." Carole grinned. "As long as you realize we will have a great time. And we'll make you have fun, too."
"I guess it could be fun to see you try," Kurt replied, skepticism oozing from every line on his face.
"It's settled, then," Burt put in quickly. "Now go start packing because if you're not ready by six am tomorrow, you're leaving with what you manage to grab on your way out."
Kurt's eyes widened. "Wait, we're leaving tomorrow? And you're telling me now?"
"If we gave you more time, you could come up with some sing-along you simply have to attend or a sleepover with Mercedes you've been planning for ages," Burt reasoned wryly. "This way we're having none of that."
Sometimes his father really knew him too well.
"Oh, one more thing," the elder Hummel warned. "One bag per person."
Kurt's mouth opened and closed, and his eyes became about as wide as saucers. Finn was afraid they might actually pop out of his head.
"We're going to Pike Lake not Paris," said Burt with an amused smile. "You really don't need ten pairs of shoes, kiddo."
"What I do need is patience. Lots of patience," Kurt grumbled. "And therapy when we get back."
"You'll thank us for this trip, you'll see," Burt said.
Kurt raised one, very skeptical eyebrow, "I highly doubt that."
Carole came to stand beside her husband. "Look at it as a way to try something new, sweetie. Give it a shot and maybe it won't be that bad."
Kurt seriously doubted that but as he looked at his family and their excited and happy faces, he didn't have the heart to spoil this for them. It was only a week, after all. He'd survive. Somehow. Maybe.
He sighed and nodded. "I'll go pack," he said trying to muster a smile.
He turned on his heel and started up the stairs. Hearing footsteps behind him, he sighed.
"Seriously, Finn. There are elephants who are stealthier than you," he threw over his shoulder.
The taller teen grinned. "Who ever said I wanted to be stealthy?" he deadpanned.
"Fair point," Kurt admitted. "So, are you stomping after me to make sure I don't climb through the window and make a run for it?"
Finn goggled at him. "Um, no," he muttered. Then he did a double take. "Dude, you wouldn't do that, would you?"
"Can't say it hasn't crossed my mind," Kurt replied levelly, walking into his room with the other teen still on his heels.
"It won't be so bad, man, I promise," Finn tried reassuringly. "I used to be a cub scout and I always had so much fun at the camps."
Kurt wanted to point out that their definitions of fun were about as similar as ballet and mud-wrestling but he didn't get the chance because Finn was apparently on a roll.
"It's like, getting away from people and cars and stuff," the taller boy continued, his expression unusually thoughtful. "You can see and hear yourself better without all that noise, y'know."
Kurt looked at him surprised.
"What? I can be deep, too," Finn said giving him a wounded scowl.
"I can see that." The countertenor raised an eyebrow at him. "Still, I would really prefer this soul-searching and bonding took place somewhere where there are working toilets and showers."
"Dude, there's nothing wrong with getting a bit dirty from time to time."
Kurt glared. "I trust you know me well enough to not continue."
Finn shrugged and leant against the doorframe, watching his stepbrother turn away from him and stand in the middle of his room, looking a bit at a loss.
"Need help?" he offered.
Kurt gave him an incredulous look. "I want my things packed not destroyed," he said snidely, ducking under his bed to retrieve a long-forgotten backpack he remembered shoving there together with other unwanted Christmas presents.
"You want to pack the heaviest stuff at the bottom," Finn instructed as he re-emerged with the backpack.
"Finn, just because you were a cub scout doesn't mean you know the first thing about packing. I saw what you did with your things when you were packing for New York," he added pointedly because the other boy was opening his mouth in protest. He shut it resignedly at Kurt's comment. The countertenor nodded. "So stop distracting me and go away. If I need someone to uselessly hover around and annoy me, I'll get you."
Finn shrugged. "Ok. But remember to take comfortable shoes and something waterproof."
A teddy bear wheezed dangerously close to his head and landed in the hall.
"The next thing I'm going to throw won't be nearly as soft," Kurt warned menacingly, not turning around.
Finn swallowed. "Fine. But if you take the wrong shoes and can't walk, I'm not carrying you," he decided. "I'll totally leave you and let you get eaten by squirrels or something."
The countertenor turned towards him, his lips twitching upwards. "What a heartless person you are, Finn Hudson," he said wryly. "But I can't deny you creativity. Death by squirrels. That's something I haven't heard."
"Hey, they've got really sharp teeth!" Finn said in his defense.
Kurt arched a knowing eyebrow at him. "I sense a traumatic childhood story coming," he observed. "And as intrigued as I am, it will have to wait. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time at the campsite," he added sourly, opening his huge wardrobe with a resigned sigh. Did he have anything mud-proof?
"So, you've accepted the camping thing." Finn grinned. "And you won't make a run for it?"
Kurt shot him a sideways glance. "I've only accepted the fact that if I do make a run for it, you and my dad will track me down and take me with you by force. Which, if possible, will be even more fun than going willingly," he finished sarcastically.
"That's good enough for me," Finn decided with a lopsided smile.
The countertenor sighed. "Now that we've established I won't run, you can go away. I have to find clothes in my wardrobe that are less than a couple hundred dollars a piece."
"Dude, half of my entire wardrobe together costs less!"
"No surprise there," Kurt shot back. "Now out, Hudson. I have to focus."
With a satisfied sigh, he closed the door behind his brother and started packing, neatly putting everything he needed out on his bed. He made sure all his moisturizers were safely packed together with lots of suntan lotion and insect repellents, and that they were easily accessible. The picking and folding of clothes was the most time-consuming and painful process because there was no way they wouldn't get creased and wrinkled in the backpack, and Kurt somehow doubted his dad would allow him to take an iron. Once he was done with that, he packed his iPhone charger and a couple of other things that would help him get through the ordeal.
He fell asleep around two, which left him four hours of sleep. When his alarm blared loudly way too soon, he grudgingly lifted himself up and stumbled to the bathroom. He decided to forgo most of his morning routine and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a matching tee. The only people that were going to see him were his family and mosquitoes so it wasn't like he had to put his best foot forward. In fact, he wanted to make it a point of not putting any foot forward at all. That, and he was just too damn sleepy anyway.
He stumbled out of his room and almost got knocked over by Finn, who was already dressed and traipsing down the hall with his backpack. When he saw Kurt, he stopped, his backpack falling to his feet.
"Your clothes…" he muttered.
"Good morning to you, too," Kurt said, a small smile growing on his lips despite his mood at his brother's flabbergasted expression. "Although I find it a contradiction of terms."
Finn didn't really seem to hear him as he continued to stare. "You're…you're going in sweatpants? As in, outside?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "We're going to a forest in the middle of nowhere," he pointed out. "While fashion is omnipresent and for all occasions, there are also particular occasions for particular fashions, and I hardly think Balenciaga and Ferragamos are the appropriate apparel for wading in the mud and sleeping on the ground."
Finn goggled at him like he'd just started speaking Chinese. Kurt sighed.
"Can I take your picture?" the taller teen asked when he got over his bewilderment. "No one will ever believe me."
"Try it and die," the countertenor warned.
Finn swallowed. Kurt nodded, giving his stepbrother one final warning look.
"I'm glad we had this talk. Now get out of the way or get trampled on. I need my coffee."
Kurt might have changed his mind about camping.
He might have liked the brisk air smelling of pines and water.
He might have found the quaint campground near a small sandy beach at the lake enchanting.
Yes, he might have. Had it not been for the fact that it seemed that all the damned mosquitoes from all of the state of Ohio were out to get him the moment he'd stepped out of the car.
Finn, on the other, seemed to be totally immune to the local fauna and volunteered to set up their tent. Burt was hesitant but finally let him try it, making Kurt promise he'd help and keep Finn from harming himself. Still, he gave them the rubber hammer. Just to be safe.
"Kurt, if you put any more of that stuff on, you're sleeping outside tonight," Finn warned looking up from the tent parts to see his stepbrother, who was daintily seated on a rock, squeeze another blob of repellent onto his skin. He'd already used up half of the bottle and was positively glistening.
The countertenor shot him a sideways look. "I'll put on as much as I deem effective. I refuse to be a dinner buffet," he added with a sniff.
Finn wrinkled his nose as the nauseating lavender smell of the repellent wafted in his direction. "Dude, I'm serious. You've put on enough to repel humans."
"You mean like yourself?" Kurt asked innocently and the other boy nodded.
"An added bonus," the countertenor remarked snidely. Then he glared at his forearm as a mosquito, completely undeterred by layers of lavender on Kurt's skin, sat on it. "Geroff, you blood-thirsty beast!" the teen yelled, flailing his hands wildly.
Finn sniggered. Kurt glared. Finn fell silent.
"How is it they don't bite you at all?" the smaller boy asked reproachfully. "You're bigger, you're a much easier target!"
"Call it ceramic justice," Finn retorted. Well, tried to because Kurt chuckling was certainly not the reaction he'd been expecting.
"Do you mean karmic justice or does not being bitten by mosquitoes involve vases somehow?"
Finn narrowed his eyes at him. "Yeah. It would be justice if I smashed one on your head," he grumbled. "If I had one."
"Too bad we're in the middle of a forest," Kurt said with an impish smile and huffed haughtily, "That aside, violence is nothing but a sign of helplessness."
"I can live with that," the taller boy replied with a somewhat disturbing smile, which Kurt took as his cue to move out of the other teen's immediate vicinity. He was holding a hammer after all. It was a rubber one but still.
"I'm going to see if Carole has a different repellent," he said and quickly got up.
Finn nodded with satisfaction and watched him leave, swinging the hammer menacingly for good measure and almost hitting himself in the process. Then he turned to the tent parts he'd put out around him. He scratched his head, a frown building on his face. He eyed the parts suspiciously, becoming pretty sure there were too many because there was no way all these things went into one tent. Still, he got down to work. It was a matter of honor now. He studied the different-shaped poles first. They were the parts that had to be assembled first and well if the tent was to hold…
A quarter of an hour later he heard footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Kurt eyeing his work from a distance. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows raised.
"Nice art installation. And where's our tent?"
"You're looking at it," Finn admitted grudgingly, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.
"I was afraid you're going to say that," the countertenor sighed with exasperation as he came closer and eyed the construction warily.
"Hey, it's not as easy as it looks!" the quarterback said defensively.
"So it would seem."
Finn groaned. "Instead of picking at me, you could, I dunno, help?"
Kurt shrugged gracefully. "I could. But I just had my nails done yesterday. And as I recall, you wanted to do this by yourself really bad."
"Dude, you're like the most irritating person in the world! And that's including Rach."
"Define irritating," the other teen said wryly.
"Why don't you look it up, Mr. Encyclopedia," Finn huffed in reply.
"I think you mean 'Mr. Dictionary'," Kurt corrected trying to keep a straight face. He failed.
The taller boy gave him a reproachful look. "That's it, man. You're so smart, you do it," he said and threw him the rubber hammer.
Not waiting to see if Kurt caught it, he whirred around and stomped off.
The countertenor looked after him for a while. Truth be told, he'd been riding Finn mercilessly ever since they got here with full deliberation. It was low and selfish, he knew, but he was miserable and really unhappy to be here and Finn's enthusiasm was getting on his nerves, making it all even worse. He wanted to wipe that dopey smile off his face. But like all his plans involving Finn, it backfired. As he watched his brother's form disappear behind trees, he felt even worse. Great plan, Kurt thought caustically. He contemplated going after him but decided it was better to let him cool off.
His gaze landed on the scattered tent parts. He hadn't really had manicure and he never shied a challenge. After all, how hard could it be? If he could piece together a car engine, assembling a tent would surely be plain sailing.
The tent toppled for the third time.
Cut off guard, Kurt stumbled backwards and as luck would have it, tripped over Finn's backpack and landed butt-first in a muddy puddle. Uncharacteristically, he made no attempt to get up but lay there and let moisture seep into his hair and clothes. He was too exhausted to care.
He had no idea how long he lay there but after some time he thought he heard a rustle of leaves in the nearby bushes. He turned his head, expecting Finn to come out any second with a triumphant smile. When he didn't, Kurt sighed in relief. He doubted he'd handle his stepbrother's gloating well right now.
Then a mosquito sat on the tip of his nose.
"I hate this," he announced fiercely into the darkening sky, fending the insect off. The sky didn't reply but he was sure it was mocking him.
"I guess that's tent-2 : us-0," came Finn's voice from somewhere behind him.
"Came to gloat?" Kurt asked in a resigned manner, still making no move to get up.
Then there was a proffered hand hanging over him. He looked up at his brother and took it.
As he got to his feet, he bit his lower lip. His back and hair were drenched and he shivered as hundreds of invisible needles nipped at his skin in the evening breeze.
Finn was looking at him curiously, probably wondering why he wasn't freaking out about the mud and the state of his clothes and hair.
"Dude…you're covered in mud," he finally said.
"Thank you for that astute observation, Finn," Kurt remarked snidely but his hands moved on instinct as he tried to remove some of the dirt off and ended up smearing it over his tee even more.
"What were you doing?"
"Mud's good for the complexion?" the smaller boy said with a weak smile.
Finn raised a quizzical eyebrow at him and Kurt sighed. "You were right, it isn't that simple," he admitted motioning at the tent. That was the easy part. He took a deep breath. "And while I'm at the groveling part, there's something more. I owe you an apology," he offered tentatively. "I'm just…having a hard time to…adapt and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, Finn."
"Well, I think it's safe to say you got your lesson," the other teen said steadily, looking at Kurt's stained clothes, hands and face. What stood out most, though, was his anxious expression and his wide, blue-green eyes. Finn felt a surge of warmth for the other boy. Or maybe it was the burritos he'd eaten for lunch. Either way, he could never stay angry with Kurt for long, especially when he made this face. He smiled. "It's cool. We're cool," he assured him, pushing a hand through his hair. "You know, the funny thing is, I'd rather argue with you than agree with anyone else."
Kurt's expression softened. He felt even worse for his earlier behavior.
"How do you make the most sappy lines original and sincere?" he asked with a sniff, a tentative smile curving his lips upwards.
"That's a compliment, right?" Finn asked suspiciously.
"Yes," the countertenor confirmed with a chuckle. "And I really am sorry. Sarcasm is my main coping mechanism but I'll try to tone it down."
Finn grinned. Kurt found himself grinning back despite his splattered clothes and damaged hair, which should be making him act like a complete bitch right now. Only it wasn't. He just couldn't find it in him when his brother was giving him that happy, lop-sided grin of his.
"How are you doing, boys?" came Burt's voice from the side, breaking their silent reconciliation.
"That well, huh?" the elder Hummel continued with amusement as he saw the result of his sons' work. Both boys gave him withering looks. He blinked as he took a look at Kurt. "I think you took Carole's words about the wholesomeness of mud a bit too literally, son," he observed wryly and Finn knew exactly what side of family Kurt took that ability from. "Don't move, I'll go fetch the camera."
"Don't even think about it, dad," Kurt growled. "Or I'll tell Carole about the sangria incident at uncle Andy's last birthday."
Burt's smile faded. Finn looked interested.
"What's a sangria?"
"Doesn't matter," Burt mumbled quickly. "Let's set this tent up or you boys will be sleeping on the ground tonight. Finn, could you hand me that hammer?"
Finn insisted Kurt leave a torch on because he'd get lost on the way back from the showers otherwise. Kurt pointed out the showers were thirty yards away along a straight path and a bat wearing black shades would make it back. Finn wondered if bats even wore shades because they were blind anyway. Kurt observed that it was a common misconception and bats weren't really blind, they just used other senses to get around. Finn wanted to know why people said 'blind as a bat' if that was so. Kurt stated that people can be stupid. Like it was stupid to argue over bats wearing shades at midnight. Finn seemed to disagree but he didn't protest when Kurt clamped a hand over his mouth and shoved him out of the tent. Seriously.
Kurt replayed the conversation in his head as he lay in the dim light of the torch. No matter how ridiculous or silly, his bickering with Finn was more fun that he'd ever admit. He smiled to himself, waiting for sleep to come. Only it didn't. Maybe it was the thick stillness of the night, only broken by an occasional hoot, or maybe it was simply that he was too exhausted to sleep.
Long minutes passed. Finn still wasn't back and Kurt remained awake. And Finn said he took long in the bathroom. Well, he did. But not here. Here he tried to shower on one breath and with his eyes closed, preferably not touching anything at all. It required some serious gymnastic skills but he made it.
His eyelids were finally beginning to droop when he heard movement outside and noticed a shadow slither along the tent wall in the corner of his eye. A caustic remark on the tip of his tongue, he pretended to be asleep to scare Finn when he entered. If he couldn't fall asleep, he could at least make the best of it.
"Finn Hudson, my eighty-year old, arthritic aunt Mildred sneaks up better," he said loudly with a snide smile.
When he opened his eyes, there was no one there. He frowned and squinted into the darkness, expecting Finn to emerge from his hiding outside the tent. Futilely. His pricked ears registered only silence.
Then a lone owl hooted into the night and Kurt almost jumped.
Mentally berating himself, he buried himself deeper in his sleeping bag. He really was exhausted if he was seeing Finn where he wasn't. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to go to sleep but he couldn't lose the feeling of a presence somewhere close. Making as little movement as possible, he reached one hand out of the sleeping bag and grabbed the first thing that got under his fingers. One of Finn's trainers. Normally he wouldn't touch it with a stick but this was no time to be picky since there it was again, the shuffling and the shadow.
Kurt held his breath and aimed his impromptu weapon at the shadow's head just as it was passing through the entrance. To his satisfaction, he heard a yelp as the shoe reached its target.
"Dude! Why are you chucking my shoes at me?" came a reproachful question as Finn crawled inside, massaging his shoulder. He flung the trainer back at Kurt, missing by a foot.
"You really don't think I'd use mine to throw, do you?" Kurt retorted, ducking to dodge the projectile. "Even if they're only last year's Lacostes."
Finn rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man. Maybe my shoes aren't some freaky designer stuff but they're ok. I mean, I checked them just yesterday and they don't even smell…that bad."
"You smell your training shoes?" Kurt asked with utter disgust.
"How else am I to know if they're useable?"
"Oh Gaga, you're not joking, are you?"
"Why would I joke about it?"
"Well, you seem to have a rather freaky sense of humor lately," Kurt observed. "What with the lurking outside and scaring me."
Finn seemed confused. Well, more confused than usual. "Dude, what lurking? When?"
"Some ten minutes ago," the smaller boy said. "You were hiding behind the tent and trying to ambush me, which I honestly don't know how you wanted to achieve with your kind of grace and stealth anyway, but then I spoke and you got spooked and ran away."
Finn goggled at him. "Dude, I was still in the showers ten minutes ago!"
Kurt raised an eyebrow at him but he could see his stepbrother was telling the truth. He swallowed, a feeling of dread coming over him. It must have shown because Finn patted him on the shoulder reassuringly before burying himself in his sleeping bag.
"If it wasn't you, then who was it?"
Finn shrugged. "No one, man," he said soothingly. "It's your first night in a forest, it's normal you're on edge. It was probably a tree moving in the wind. You were tired and half-asleep and you thought you something that wasn't there. It happens."
Kurt nodded, feeling better. The very revelation of Finn's sudden level-headedness and sound reasoning was enough to put his mind on a different track. And the other boy was probably right. It was just his hyperactive imagination playing tricks on him. Yes. Definitely so. Still, he couldn't shake off the feeling of premonition.
"Dude, stop thinking. I can hear you from here. Go to sleep."
"I would if you'd stop snoring."
"I haven't even fallen asleep yet!"
"That was your breathing? You need to see a doctor, Finn."
"What I need is sleep. I'm gonna need it for tomorrow – it's gonna be a long, fun day."
Kurt sighed, "Well, I can agree on the 'long' part."
"Night, Finn. You dork."
You've reached the end, thanks for reading! This is just an introductory chapter really, but I'd love to know what you think:) The real adventure starts next chapter.
See you next time!
* The Pike Lake National Park is a beautiful, quaint place in south-eastern Ohio and I think a perfect place for Hudmel camping. Still, I've never been there so all my information is Google-based. Hence, if there are any errors or inconsistencies, I apologize in advance.