#Kurt
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He laid on his back, on the floor in front of the wooden dresser, chipped with age in his father's room, hands folded under his head, taking long and deep breaths. It had been seven years since his mother died but sometimes her absence still felt as strong as the very first day.

About a year and a half after her death, Kurt woke up and could not remember her voice. He cried for over an hour before his father had come to his room to call him for breakfast and they spent the rest of the morning looking at old family videos from various birthdays and days out in the sun they used to have. In the next few years following, these breakdowns happened frequently, leaving Kurt unresponsive and indifferent for days at a time. Dave was the only friend that kept in touch with Kurt through all that time, coming to his house almost every day to coax him out to play in the park or just down to the living room to watch TV. Those years were tough but luckily Burt was strong for the both of them, keeping their home full of light and warmth.

Sometimes, however, Kurt still found himself curled up in front of his mother's dresser, trying to find that faintly familiar scent of her perfume in the air, lingering from when the bottle had broken on top of the old wood and its vaporous contents had seeped into the deep grain. He knew it had fainted long ago but he still opened all the drawers and laid down.  He knew it was silly but laying there brought him closer to his mother than sitting in the damp grass by her cold grave stone.

A couple minutes later Kurt recalled that his father mentioned an old photo album he found in his room a few days ago. Thinking he might have left it in the dresser, he started looking in the bottom drawers, going through old documents and letters until he noticed a stack of envelopes tied together. He wouldn’t havegiven them a second glance if not for the letters that were written in colorfulcrayons, looking like a child's hand writing. He grabbed the pile from the back of the drawer and was shocked to see that the letters were addressed to him.

He was sitting in the dining room with the letters scattered on the table in front of him when his father came home.

"What is all that?" Burt gestured to the table, his brow forrowed with confusion.

Kurt raised his head from the letter he'd been reading over and over again in the last ten minutes. "I was about to ask you the same question. What are these? When did you get them?" He asked angrily, holding the letter in his hand a little too tight marring it with an ugly crease

Burt looked again at the table and recognition fell on his face. "Oh…"

When Kurt was sure he was not about to elaborate he continued in the same tone. "Those letters were addressed to me! How come I've never seen any of them before?"

Burt pulled out the chair beside him and sat heavily, taking a deep breath. "They arrived years ago, the year you started school. Your mother and I decided it was for the best."

Kurt felt the blood boiling within his veins, his face reddening. "You've been lying to me all these years? Telling me one of my best friends wanted nothing to do with me?" He raised himself, leaning on the table and yelling at his father, feeling an anger and frustration return to him after being gone for a long time.

"It was against the law!" Burt yelled back at him, also raising himself from his seat.

It was unlikely to see his father lose his temper and his reaction caught Kurt off guard."What?" He asked, confusion replacing the rage in his voice as he fell back to his chair.

Burt didn’t move from his position but started to explain calmly. "You are an SOG and as such you are not allowed to be friends with a laborer. You didn’t know better but we knew we had to stop it back then and cutting any connection you had was the only way we could think of."

Kurt stared in shock at him. Burt finally sat in his chair and reached for Kurt's hands.

"I can't believe you lied to me all these years." Kurt recoiled from him. "We were his best friends," He added, his voice rising as his head processed what had happened. His gut sank though, leaving him more disappointed than angry.

They sat in silence for a while. Kurt shook his head violently, anger building up in him again while he placed the new information and played those months, back in his first year of school, again in his head.

Kurt got up and headed to his room. Feeling Burt's eyes following him he stopped in the middle of the stairs and looked down at his father. "I hope the next time you have to choose between your own son and the law you'll make the right decision."

"Don't test me, Kurt."Burt answered just as harshly.

Kurt turned around and rushed to his room, slamming the door behind him. He walked around uneasily, trying to decide what to do with this information. He only knew what he wanted to do. Even though it had been months since he had even approached him in the school's halls, Kurt felt he had to share this with Dave. So he got dressed and went downstairs. Finding the dining room empty and the letters still on the table, he gathered them and left the house.

Zoey was the one to open the door, standing almost three inches taller since the last time he saw her.

"Kutty?" Zoey hopped excitedly, hugging him.

Kurt smiled at the familiar nickname and grabbed her, trying to raise her like always but finding she was now too heavy. "You're so big! I haven't seen you in ages Zoe." He patted her head when she grabbed him again for a hug. She eventually let go of him and pulled him into the house.

"Who is it Zoey?" Her mother called from the kitchen when they closed the door behind them.

"It's Kurt, mom!" She answered excitedly and they walked into the kitchen.

"Kurt! We haven’t see you here in a while."She turned around and pulled him into a warm hug. "We've missed you, right Zoey?" she smiled down at her, Zoey nodding her head.

"I've missed you too. Zoey is almost a lady." Kurt shoved a stray lock behind her ear and she blushed, smiling back at him. "Is Dave here?"

"Yeah… He's studying in his room," Zoey answered gloomily.

"Thanks." Kurt climbed the stairs two steps at a time and knocked on the door.

"No Zoey! I'm not playing Barbie's tea party with you!" was the answer behind the door.

"But you used to love playing that!" Kurt answered with a pout. He could hear the sound of papers rustling and a second later the door opened.

"Hi! What are you…?"

"I needed to talk to you," Kurt cut him off and walked past him into the room. It almost felt as if nothing had changed, that it hadn’t been almost a year since the last time he was here. It still felt like a second home. Trying not to think about it, he showed him the letters and told him the law he discovered earlier that day.

"Your parents must have kept the letters from you as well…" Kurt concluded.

"I can't believe this…" Dave sat there, looking startled at him. "So what do you think we should do now?"

Kurt thought about it for a second."I think we should write him back."