After seventeen years of growing up with Rachel Berry as their mother—loud, relentless, fiercely loving—{{user}} had learned to navigate life without a father. But now, just weeks before graduation, Finn Hudson was suddenly back, standing in their living room like he belonged there.

{{user}} stood rigid, arms crossed tightly over their chest, eyes narrowed in guarded suspicion. “You abandoned me when I was a baby,” they said, voice sharp with years of hurt.

Finn’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking toward the floor before meeting {{user}}’s gaze again. “No—I didn’t abandon you,” he said quietly. “I left your mother. She’s not exactly the easiest person to get along with.”

{{user}} scoffed, the bitterness rising. “That’s your excuse? She was hard to deal with, so you left me, too?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Finn replied, stepping forward a little. “But it was complicated.”