The months following Elizabeth's death were a difficult adjustment for Burt and Kurt. Burt watched as his son became more secluded; hiding away in his room, and only coming out for meals and to use the bathroom.

Occasionally, Burt would pause outside Kurt's bedroom door and hear soft, choked sobs coming from inside. Burt was at a loss. He had never imagined that he would have to raise his son by himself. But as scared as Burt was, he knew that his first priority would be to become the best father to Kurt that he could be. If that meant learning how to properly hold a teacup, or taking Kurt shopping for unnecessary clothes, then so be it.

Five months after Elizabeth's death, in August, Burt approached Kurt's room and knocked cautiously. "Come in." He heard his young son answer quietly. Burt silently entered Kurt's room and perched himself on the edge of Kurt's bed. "Hey bud." Burt started, trying to create conversation.

"Hi, Dad." Kurt replied, eyes never leaving the magazine he held in his hands.
Burt coughed. "Are you excited about starting school tomorrow? Fourth grade is a pretty big step."
Kurt looked up silently before casting his eyes back down. "It's not big, Dad. It's just another year." Kurt remarked sullenly.
"Right. Well, I'm sure you'll do well anyway." Burt said.
Kurt simply nodded.
Burt sighed. "Kurt, is there…anything you want to um, talk about?"
Kurt looked up at his father again, fully since the first time Burt entered the room. "No." He answered with a stony expression.
Burt nodded sadly, not surprised by Kurt's rejection of the subject. "Ok, well, I'll just leave you to do…what you were doing." Burt said, standing to leave. He took one last glance at Kurt, seeing that the boy had given no acknowledgment to his remark, before leaving the room.
__________________________________________________________

Blaine

Blaine was nine years old when he first tried to run away from home. He and his Aunt Meg had had another fight; something that seemed to be happening quite a bit lately. This time, it was about Blaine not wanting to return to school that week, and Meg insisting that he must.

So that night, Blaine had packed an extra pair of clothes and a few snack foods into his small backpack, along with the stuffed bear that was his favorite. He climbed out of his window, and started the trek down the street, away from his house. He managed to walk to the end of the street, before stopping, realizing that even if he did have somewhere he could go, he wouldn't know how to get there. He rarely paid attention to where his Aunt Meg drove when he rode in the car with her.

Sighing in defeat, Blaine turned around and trudged back up the street, back to the house. He climbed back through his first floor window, threw the backpack on the ground and collapsed onto his bed, tears running down his cheeks.

Aunt Meg had found him the next morning, curled up in a ball on his bed asleep, and evident tear tracks visible on his face. She pulled his sleeping form close, and held him for a long while.

Blaine had woken up in his Aunt's arms, and made no effort to move. He could tell by the way she was holding him that she knew something was wrong. So, not caring that she would see, he started crying again. Blaine sobbed in her arms, for what could have been hours, though he wasn't sure.
"It will all be alright, Blaine." She whispered comfortingly.

He didn't argue.
__________________________________________________________

Kurt

Fourth grade material proved to be far too easy for Kurt. He breezed through his classes with such ease that Burt had considered moving him up to fifth grade, though ultimately decided against it. Now more than ever, Kurt needed to be around people who were his own age, and who he knew.

Kurt and Burt fell into a routine. Kurt would leave early for school, and Burt would leave right after him to go to his garage for the day.

Kurt would arrive home around three, and Burt at five. Burt would cook dinner as best he could for the two of them. They always ate in silence. Kurt cleared the table before retreating to his room for the rest of the night, leaving Burt alone.

Every night, Burt would flip on the television and sigh, disappointment but not surprised by Kurt's actions. Burt wished he knew how to help his son; to make him seem more himself again. If only Liz were still here… Burt found himself thinking constantly.

The rest of the year seemed to pass slowly to Burt. When December finally arrived, Burt was surprised when he came home from the garage one Sunday to find his son decorating the house with Christmas items.

Kurt turned to look at his father with sad eyes and a hint of a smile, before turning back to his work.
"Do you want any help, Son?" Burt asked, already assuming that Kurt would say no. But to Burt's shock, Kurt replied with a simple "sure".

Decorating the Hummel house for Christmas was something that Elizabeth and Kurt had always looked forward to every year, and it shocked Burt that his son actually wanted him to join in.
Silently, Burt made his way over to the pile of decorations, taking a wreath out and hanging it on the front door while Kurt placed candles in each of the window sills.

When Burt had started hanging the lights on the artificial Christmas tree, he was surprised to hear the sound of the piano drifting from the next room. He rounded the corner quietly and saw that Kurt was perched on the piano bench, currently playing a tune that Elizabeth had taught him to play. He watched Kurt until the young boy finished, then clapped behind him.

"That was great, Kurt." Burt told him.
Kurt offered another barely-there smile. "Thanks, Dad."
Burt motioned him forward. "Why don't you come help me finish the tree?"
Kurt nodded. Burt turned to go, but before he could, Kurt spoke quietly behind him. "I love you, Dad."

Burt tried holding back a tear, overwhelmed at hearing his son say those words to him after so long. "I love you too, Kurt. No matter what." He replied.
__________________________________________________________

Blaine

"Is that the one you want, Blaine?" Meg asked him.
Blaine nodded.
"And it's your size and everything?" She asked.
"Yes."
"Ok, we'll take that one." Meg told the employee behind the counter. She had the idea days before to take Blaine out to a music store and let him pick an instrument to learn to play, as an early Christmas present. She knew that if there was one thing that could cheer Blaine up, it would be music.

Blaine was currently holding a simple acoustic guitar, staring at it with quite an admiration. "It's all yours, Blaine."
He glanced up briefly and smiled. "Thank you so much."
She grinned. "Now why don't we sign you up for some lessons?"

Christmas passed quickly for Blaine and Meg. Apart from his guitar, which Blaine rarely put down, Aunt Meg had gotten him various items of clothing, a bow tie, a couple of video games, and a gift card to the nearby toy store.

At the end of the night, Blaine played one of the simple Christmas songs he had been practicing on his guitar, and Aunt Meg tucked him into bed, placing a lingering kiss on her nephew's forehead.

She closed his door, sighing to herself. Poor Blaine had already been through more in his short life than some people have to go through in a lifetime, and it wasn't fair to him. She missed Tony, more than she could describe, but she knew that the entire situation must be unbearable for Blaine. He had lost his parents and beloved uncle in the matter of three years.

It was a situation that she had a hard time fathoming, and she marveled at how well Blaine seemed to be dealing. Sure, there had been quite a few rough patches in their lives in the past nine months, but Meg couldn't put into words how proud she was of how brave and strong Blaine had been.

Meg hoped that with the New Year approaching, she could get Blaine to open up more about his feelings. She wanted Blaine to lean on her for support, not just presently, but well into his future as well. She wanted him to know that she would always be there for him, no matter who he became or what he got himself into.

"Merry Christmas, Blaine." She whispered outside his closed door.
__________________________________________________________

Kurt

"You ready, Bud?" Burt asked as he watched his little boy climb into the backseat of his car.

Both Hummel men wore suits, and two bouquets of flowers lay carefully in the passenger seat. Today was the day.

Kurt nodded to his father, and Burt began the drive toward Westerville. They remained quiet for most of the drive, apart from Burt asking Kurt if he wanted the radio on. Kurt, as expected, shook his head.

When Burt pulled into the cemetery, he swore he heard a soft whimper coming from his backseat. Burt parked the car a little way from his wife's grave. "Come on, Kurt. She's waiting for us."

He led Kurt from the car and they walked a bit, before spotting Elizabeth's gravestone.
Burt immediately kneeled on the ground in front of it, and placed the bouquet of flowers he held on the ground in front of him.

Kurt, on the other hand, stood back a bit, simply staring at the gravestone with his mother's name on it. Upon hearing his father let out a choked sob, however, Kurt moved forward and knelt down, placing one hand on his father's shoulder.

"We miss you, Liz." Burt began. After about ten minutes of talking to his wife, Burt got up. "You ready to leave, Kurt?" He asked.
Kurt's reply was barely above a whisper. "Can I have a minute?"
Burt nodded. "Of course. I'll be in the car." With that, he left, leaving Kurt alone.

Kurt turned back and addressed his mother himself this time. "I miss you a lot, Mom. But I'm trying to be strong like you told me to." He paused, before continuing. "Dad is taking good care of me, but I know sometimes he doesn't know what to do."

Kurt finished by telling his mom how he would always love her before standing, not wanting to keep his father waiting any longer.

When Kurt looked up, he spotted two people making their way across the lot, presumably to visit a loved one. There was a young looking woman, and a curly haired boy around Kurt's age. Kurt thought that this boy looked vaguely familiar.

His thoughts drifted to last year, when a funeral was being held right after his mom's had finished, and he remembered the boy. He had been standing beside the same woman that he walked with now. Kurt briefly wondered who the boy had lost.

Looking briefly at the boy again, Kurt was startled a bit to see the boy looking back at him, the same partial recognition apparent on his face.

Kurt watched as the boy waved softly to him, his face solemn. Kurt copied the motion, and waved back to the boy he didn't know. After the brief exchange, Kurt turned around and headed back to the car, back to his father, and back to Lima.