"Dad..."

Kurt tried to remain composed as he walked towards his dad and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tighter than he'd ever done before.

"Dad... you can't believe how happy I am to see you up."

"Well, I couldn't tell what with all the tears streaming down your face, but sure," Burt said, a little bit unsure. He looked at his son inquisitively. "Are you ok? You act like you haven't seen me for months."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh a little at the strange truth of the statement. He took his handkerchief, wiping away the tears from his face, and took his father's hand.

"Dad... do you know where you are?"

Burt frowned, looking around.

"In a hospital, it would seem... I'm not sure why, though," he lifted his arms, moving his legs, his eyes trailing over his body, as if he was searching for some kind of injury. "I seem to be fine. A bit stiff, maybe... ."

Kurt inhaled deeply as he squeezed his dad's hand.

"Dad... please, don't freak out but you... you had a heart attack."

Burt's eyes widened a little bit, and Kurt continued.

"You fell in a coma... you've been in the hospital for almost two months now."

"I've- what?"

Alarmed, Burt jerked from in the hospital bed.

"B-but... No! I can't have been! Where... how... have you been taking care of yourself?" Burt grabbed Kurt's arm, trying to see if he was alright, but Kurt gently pushed him back down.

"I'm ok, dad, please, don't worry. I'm fine. Just... be calm... okay?" He looked at his dad with worry in his eyes. "You've just woken up from a heart attack-induced coma... just... try to stay calm? Please?"

Burt nodded, calming down as he slowly sank back into the pillows.

"But... I just... oh God... Kurt... I'm so, so sorry... . Are you sure you're alright?"

Kurt sat back on the bed.

"Don't be sorry - I'm fine, I am. I was put into foster care- nono, don't worry, it's ok," he needed to push his dad back down once again, "I didn't go to a home. They placed me in a foster family. They're really nice people, I'm sure you would like them."

"I still don't see why are you wearing that uniform. The same as the other boy did?"

It wasn't until now that Kurt remembered that Blaine had come with him that day. He looked up at the couch where he had last seen him, but it seemed that his foster brother had left the room - until he heard a small cough behind him.

"Eh... Kurt?"

Kurt turned around to see Blaine standing in the doorway, looking apologetic.

"I... I went to get the nurses? I hope that's ok but... I just... thought they should know."

He looked ill at ease, whether it be from witnessing Kurt's obviously unstrained relationship with his dad or simply from feeling a bit out of place at the reunion of sorts unfolding before him, it was hard to tell. But Kurt beckoned him over.

"Sure, sure. Blaine, just, come here, let me introduce you."

Kurt jumped of the bed as Blaine entered the room, rather apprehensively, looking at Kurt as if asking "are you really sure this is the right time for that?". Kurt didn't seem to notice, or chose to ignore it, because he pushed Blaine towards his dad by the small of his back, smiling broadly.

"Dad, this is Blaine Anderson, my foster brother. Blaine, meet my dad, Burt Hummel."

Blaine held out his hand, and Burt took it, shaking it slowly.

"Nice to meet you, lad."

"Nice to meet you too, sir."

There was a rather awkward silence in which Burt gave Blaine a once over, as if he was trying to gauge whether this person would actually be worthy of being called a brother to his son, before he turned back to Kurt.

"You still haven't told me what's up with the uniforms."

Anyone not paying attention would have missed the small hesitation in Kurt's voice, or the quick glance he shot at Blaine.

"Well... the Andersons live outside Lima, so it was easier if I transferred to Blaine's school. Logistics and all, you know."

It was not even a half-truth and Kurt knew it, and he only hoped his dad wouldn't see through his uneasy smile. It seemed he didn't.

"Is that a private school? Doesn't that cost them a lot of money?" Burt asked instead, sounding worried.

"Oh no, it's not all that expensive. And Blaine already went there, so it's basically pay one, have the second free!"

Kurt let out a nervous giggle, and he had never been so relieved to see two nurses enter the room to disrupt their conversation.

"Well, Mr. Hummel, aren't we happy to see you awake!"

The two women gently pushed Kurt and Blaine aside, starting to check vitals and stats and things Kurt didn't even know needed checking. As he looked at the both nurses doing their job, fussing over his dad, he felt his heart fill with gratitude. His dad was back, and the nightmare was finally over. Just a couple of days, and he would be back home, they would be back home, and life would return to normal: greasy fingers on the door, helping out in the garage, and, most importantly, Friday night dinners.

He would finally go back home.

.

"Why didn't you tell him?"

They were on their way home, Blaine driving since Kurt was still too shaken up to take the wheel. If Kurt would've had his say, he would've spent the whole evening with his dad, but the nurses had insisted he would return home, and leave his dad to recover in all calm and quiet. Tomorrow was Saturday - he'd be able to spend more time with him then. But for now he was locked in a car with Blaine, who asked him the question Kurt knew had been waiting for him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he simulated ignorance, looking out of the window.

Blaine didn't press the question, but an awkward silence filled the car and Kurt could feel Blaine's eyes on him at regular intervals. And however hard he tried to ignore it, he couldn't.

"I didn't want to upset him, alright?" he said, desperately. "He's already had a heart attack once, he just woke up from a coma that lasted two months, I'm not risking him having another, possibly fatal attack by telling him I was practically forced to transfer because some homophobic jerk threatened to kill me!"

He was breathing heavily, very aware that, although he did have good reasons to have done what he did, his first words to his dad had basically been a lie.

"Kurt, he's your dad. He cares about you. He has a right to know what's going on in your life - also, and I'd say especially, the bad stuff." Blaine sounded urgent, although there was a strange distance in his voice. "You seem to be close to your dad... don't you think he'd prefer to know over blissful ignorance?"

"But it'll kill him! I know him, Blaine, I know him and he's going to freak out and it'll kill him. He won't be able to handle it."

"It's not your place to decide what he can or can't handle, Kurt. I still think you should tell him. If you don't, he'll expect you to return to McKinley as soon as you move back home."

"Well, that will happen anyway, right?" Kurt sighed. He felt almost guilty because, even during all the excitement and happiness about his dad, a selfish little voice at the back of his head had quickly popped up: the party's over - no more unlimited shopping, no more carefree high school experience, no more leaving the household chores to Kevin. No more Blaine.

Blaine didn't answer Kurt's question, feigning to concentrate on the heavy traffic they'd suddenly found themselves into. The silence hung heavily between them until Kurt finally gave in.

"Fine. I'll tell him," he said, "Just... not yet, okay?"

A small nod and a quick smile was all he received in reply, and he resolved to gazing out the window once more. Just twelve more hours, and he could go see his dad again.

"Kurt? Kurt, dear, are you here?"

Kurt looked up from the suitcase he was packing, cocking his head to make sure he'd heard it right.

"Kurt?"

In a few quick strides he was at the stairs, rushing down two steps at a time but stopping halfway when he saw who it was.

"Oh, Kurt, honey, I'm sorry I came in but I knocked and there was no reply..."

Mrs. Anderson pointed at the door, looking apologetic, and Kurt wiped the annoyed look from his face. It really was impossible to be angry with her.

"That's okay," he turned around to go back up to his room, "come on up."

Mrs. Anderson followed Kurt up the stairs to find him going back and forth between the dressing room and the suitcase lying on his bed. She watched him for a few minutes, meticulously folding shirts, pants, scarfs, and other pieces of clothing she couldn't always identify, before she sat down on the bed, careful not to wrinkle any of the clothes that were laying in neat piles.

"So... Kurt... ," she started, "I hear from Blaine you're planning on returning to your old school?"

Kurt paused midway between his bed and his dresser, cocking his head at Mrs. Anderson before he replied.

"Yes. Yes, I am. They're keeping my dad at the hospital for observation for one more week, so he will go home next weekend. As will I. I've already informed Ms. Cleever."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

Kurt looked at her in surprise.

"Of course that's what I want! I've been visiting my dad almost every day for the past two months, hoping he'd wake up and we could go home together. So now that he actually has, I don't see why I would suddenly change my mind and, I don't know, wish he'd become comatose again? Don't get me wrong," he said, placing one hand over his heart and pointing at his room with the other, "I am grateful for all of this but... I just really want to be back home with my dad."

He sat down opposite Mrs. Anderson, grabbing her hand.

"You've been really, really good to me, Mrs. A... and I will never be able to thank you enough - although I promise I will fix your car free of charge for the rest of your life."

He leaned a bit forward as he said the last sentence in an almost conspiratorial whisper, causing them both to giggle a little. But Kurt tapped Mrs. Anderson's hand, standing up again.

"Nothing good lasts forever - I guess it's just time for me to go."

He flashed his foster mother a shy smile, and it was all she needed to see. Mrs. Anderson had always prided herself on her ability to read others, and there was no doubt in her mind about what Kurt was feeling: he might have sounded calm and rational, but there was panic in his eyes and worry on his mind.

"Kurt - I know you want to be with your dad, and believe me, I would never come between that. But do you really want to go back to McKinley? And is it a good idea to do it now? You have Sectionals next weekend, and whether you'll be competing with the Warblers or with the Ne... Nov..."

"New Directions," Kurt helped her out.

"... thank you... whether with the Warblers or New Directions, you'll be practicing heavily this week. And exams are coming up after that - switching schools right before exams is not easy. So will you take all that, and the extra care for your dad, on top of returning to live with the same people who made your life so hard on you?"

Kurt was standing in the middle of the room, his heart beating faster as he heard Mrs. Anderson spell out all the fears he'd been trying to forget about for two days now. His fingers played nervously with the buttons of the shirt he was holding, but he nevertheless held his head high.

"Don't you think I haven't thought about that?" he asked, "don't you think I know how hard it might be - will be - returning to all that, especially now that I've experienced that it doesn't have to be like that? But what choice do I have, really? Stay here in my happy bubble and let my dad return to Lima on his own? Force my dad to keep me at Dalton, despite a tuition bill I know for a fact he cannot afford, let alone the amount of gas I'd be spending driving four hours every day? And while we're at it, I can maybe have him hire a nurse to take care of him as well since I'll be too busy worrying about my GPA!"

His voice had risen steadily higher over the course of his monologue, and in the back of his throat he could feel the strain it was causing to his vocal cords. Mrs. Anderson however, remained unfazed as ever.

"There is another option..."

.

"So... if I understand it correctly, Mrs. ... eh..."

"Anderson," Mrs. Anderson provided helpfully with a small nod of her head.

"Yes... so... if I understand it correctly, you suggest I move in with you and your family instead of returning to my own home?"

Burt sat upright in his hospital bed, feeling strangely out of place next to the class and elegance Barbara Anderson had brought into the room. He had never been more grateful Kurt had insisted on buying him a new pair of silk pajamas for his hospital stay.

"Indeed," Mrs. Anderson confirmed, although she immediately put up her right hand. "Only temporarily though! I am not a charity foundation and while I am be happy to do this, it will of course place a burden on my family as well. However, I think it is in Kurt's best interest to at least finish the current semester at Dalton, preferably without the added stress of running a household and taking care of you - with all due respect."

Burt nodded shortly in understanding, and looked at his son.

"What do you think of all this?"

"Well... ," Kurt moved uncomfortably on his chair, "I would really prefer to go back to Lima with you. I don't mind taking care of you. I really don't."

Burt didn't doubt the sincerity of Kurt's words, but he could feel there was more behind his words he wasn't saying.

"But?" he prompted.

"But... I've only just settled in at Dalton and it's really busy now with Sectionals and exams coming up. I don't even know what they've covered at McKinley."

In all fairness, Kurt had a pretty good idea of what they had been covering at McKinley - Rachel, Mercedes and Tina had kept him up to date on most subjects, and he was fairly sure he would have no trouble at all to keep up coming from the higher standards that were maintained at Dalton. But he simply couldn't tell his dad that the mere thought of returning to McKinley made his stomach turn around. Or that he really wanted to spend more time with Blaine... .

"I'll have to learn new songs and routines for Glee Club and catch up 2 months of every single subject and m�ve and-"

"Alright, Kurt, alright... ," Burt held up his hands to slow down Kurt's rant. "I got it."

Kurt bit his lip, scared he had added just a bit too much drama for his argumentation to be credible.

"There's a study in Kurt's room," Mrs. Anderson intervened, "we could turn it into a guest room. That way you'll be close to Kurt, but you still have your privacy."

"Yes, sure," Burt waved it off, not really interested in the details of the arrangement, keeping his focus on his son.

"Kurt, are you sure that this is what you want? Wouldn't you prefer to return to your friends at McKinley?"

Kurt felt Burt's stare on him, and he swallowed painfully before he straightened himself, looking his father in the eyes. He didn't want to lie, but he wasn't ready to tell the truth yet, either.

"It would be... easiest if I could stay at Dalton and finish the semester."

And the rest of high school, he thought hopefully, but he didn't say that out loud.

"Ok," Burt said, clearly not all that excited at the prospect of moving in with a family of strangers. But if it was what was best for Kurt, what Kurt wanted... "that's settled then. When do we go?"

Kurt's eyes lit up, and he could barely contain the happiness bubbling up inside his chest. He got to stay at Dalton. Even if only for another month, he got to stay with Blaine. He tried his best to suppress a broad smile from appearing on his face as he spoke.

"The doctors said you could go home on Saturday, so... I thought we could get you settled in before Sectionals?"

The following week flew by, and in between Warblers practice and last minute assignments, Kurt was barely able to prepare everything for his dad's homecoming. He'd had a lot of help from Kevin, though, and together they had turned Kurt's study to a bedroom for Burt. There hadn't been time for a big party, though, and not even an hour after Burt first set foot in the Anderson's house, Kurt was already saying goodbye.

"Are you sure you're going to be ok?"

He shook up the pillows for the umpteenth time, and checked whether the water pitcher was filled. There were apples and bananas in the fruit bowl, two books within reach, the remote controls for radio and tv, ...

"Kevin will be home all evening, so if you need anything, just c-"

"... call and he'll come. I know."

"Good. Good," Kurt was looking around once more, when he remembered something. "The bathroom's just-"

"... down the hall, second door on the left. You told me. Twice. Look-" Burt took his son's fluttering hands, holding them down, forcing Kurt to look him in the eyes. "I'm fine, Kurt, really, I am. Stop fussing. Now go, you're going to be late."

But Kurt barely even listened.

"I can stay here with you, if you want," he completely ignored his father's words, "it's ok, they don't really need me at The Warblers. Not like I have a solo or anything... and I don't like the thought of you being here alone on your first evening."

"Well, that Kevin guy is here too, isn't he?"

Burt winked, but all he got in return was an indignant look.

"That's not what I meant, dad."

"I know," Burt sighed, squeezing his son's hands a little, "and I'm really, really sorry I can't be there tonight to support you. But there's nothing we can do. And Mrs. Anderson said she would tape the whole thing, so I'll see it tomorrow, yes? You go now and win that cup for me, ok?"

A small smile appeared around Kurt's lips, and he seemed to calm down a little bit.

"Ok... " he gave his dad a kiss, "I have to go now. I'll see you tonight, ok?"

Kurt let go of his dad's hands, picking up his bag. On his way out, he stopped and turned in the doorway to look at his dad. He still couldn't believe he was here, in his study room, sitting up - still weak and looking a bit pale, but healthy nevertheless, alive, awake. As far as Kurt was concerned, it was an early Christmas miracle, and he knew he would never again take his dad for granted.

Thad was waiting for them in the entry hall already, looking more nervous than Kurt had ever seen him.

"There you are! Oh, Mrs. Anderson, nice to see you."

Thad was a prime example of Dalton politeness as he greeted Blaine's mother, before he turned back to the lead Warbler to scoff him off slightly less politely.

"What the hell took you? And could you please please pick up your phone next time you're going to be 30 seconds late? Wes is freaking out - big time."

"I didn't miss any calls, I swear!"

Blaine's indignation quickly made place for embarrassment when he checked his phone: set on silent with five missed calls.

"Thad - I'm so, so sor-"

"Yesyes, explain it to Wes when he's done killing you. Now come on, let's go!"

Mrs. Anderson smiled at their little quarrel, waving both her boys off before setting off to the bar herself - there were four hours left before the performance was starting, and by the looks of the as yet empty theatre, it was going to be a long four hours.

.

Thad hadn't exaggerated about Wes' panic attack. Their otherwise composed chairman had been all over the place, making them repeat and rehearse every song no less than ten times before he had finally allowed them to take five and have a drink or see their parents right before the show started.

Right now, however, Kurt was standing in the wings, biting his lip as he overheard two voices talking softly on the other side of the curtain.

"He's not here, David. He's not here."

"Maybe he's late," David's calm voice replied, "or maybe something came up and he couldn't make it."

"Then why hasn't he called? Or even texted?" Blaine sounded desperate, but above all - disappointed. "He promised. He promised he'd come."

There was a ruffling sound, and Kurt suspected David was giving Blaine a hug.

"I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation. Just... don't worry about it, ok? I'm sure he's thinking of you even if he couldn't make it."

"He's my best friend, David. I really wanted him to be here for me tonight."

A pause, and a sigh.

"I know. I know. But you're going to kill it, with or without Kyle to cheer you on. Tell you what: we go get that trophy to show him on Monday, and make him sorry he wasn't here to see us win it, alright?"

Kurt could almost feel the sadness in Blaine's smile through the curtain and he closed his eyes, clenching his fists. He heard Blaine replying something, but it was impossible to make out what it was because the lights had gone on on stage, and the audience was clapping as the curtains opened.

"They are adorable together, aren't they?"

The voice behind him made Kurt jump, and he turned around to find Tiago had joined him in the wings. It took him a moment to figure out what the other boy was talking about, though, and it wasn't until he saw him point his chin at the stage, that he understood.

"Yes. Yes, they are."

Jeff and Nick had just walked on scene, taking their places for their song. The council had decided to have the two boys duet rather than pick one of them for a solo, and they had pleaded and begged with the council until they had finally been allowed to do the song of their choosing: Well did you evah from High Society. It wouldn't have been Kurt's first choice, but even he had had to admit that the two freshmen had done a great job making the song their own, and it brought a bit of a comic relief and movement into the otherwise rather stiff Warblers arrangements.

"I'm sure your turn will come soon, too," Tiago continued, apparently noticing the look of jealousy on Kurt's face. "You have a great voice."

Kurt smiled, grateful for the compliment, but his face dropped when he remembered how he had been turned down for a solo.

"Thank you, but I think The Warblers may not be quite so accepting of my individuality when it comes to song choices."

"Only because you think of yourself as you," Tiago said, somehow succeeding in making it sound like an observation rather than an accusation. "If you start thinking of yourself as a Warbler, a part of the group, you'll see it will take you further than you would expect."

Blaine had said something similar to him after the audition, Kurt remembered.

"Look at those two - they're inseparable. Still they didn't propose the duet as their duet, but as an arrangement including all the Warblers, as a group song. That's what earned them their spot, not their stage presence or vocal range."

Jeff and Nick were currently waltzing over the stage, fake-fighting over who got to take the lead, and Kurt knew the cue for the other Warblers to join them would be coming soon. He smiled at Tiago.

"Thank you. I'll try to keep that in mind."

"You do that," Tiago winked, patting his shoulder, "now let's go win this thing."

There was a strange atmosphere in the car when they drove home. Blaine sat slumped in the passenger seat, not even half as happy as he was supposed to be after their tie with the New Directions.

"You did a great job, sweetie," Mrs. Anderson smiled at him, giving him a quick pat on the knee, "I'm so proud of you."

Blaine didn't respond, and Mrs. Anderson straightened herself, looking at Kurt in the rear mirror.

"You too, Kurt, you didn't miss a single side step!"

Kurt smiled back faintly, not exactly in a celebratory mood himself. The conversation between Blaine and David he had accidentally overheard would have been enough to at least throw him off track a little, but what was really on his mind was something totally different.

Seeing his friends from McKinley again had made him realize exactly how much he missed them sometimes. Sure, he had kept in touch - Mercedes had been over a couple of times, they'd been shopping with the girls, and they'd even had that sleepover at Rachel's one time. But seeing them all, together, and even more, seeing them all perform together, having fun on stage, he had felt strangely left out. He had expected to feel conflicted about having to compete against them, he had expected to feel pity for them when The Warblers would have won the competition. Instead, there had been jealousy - of their obvious camaraderie even as the internal drama had reached a new high, of their hugs and woots after the tie while even the most enthusiastic Warblers had only given a content nod as they clapped politely.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have to return to McKinley after the Christmas holidays. Of course there would be slushees, and taunting, and discrimination, but he'd always had Glee Club. Granted, they hadn't always stood up for him the way he had wanted them to, but they'd been there for him, at least. And maybe after his absence they would realize how hard it had been on him, and make more effort to protect him.

Or maybe they wouldn't.

Kurt finally put it off his mind when they arrived home. Mrs. Anderson tried for some time to convince him and Blaine to celebrate their tie with some hot chocolate and a movie, but neither of them was in the mood, calling on fatigue to go up to their respective rooms as soon as possible. Both boys climbed the stairs in silence, Blaine all but dragging his feet, his usual "good night" sounding flat and even.

"Blaine!"

Blaine turned around to see Kurt standing on the top of the stairs where he'd left him just moments before, and it seemed the younger boy was as surprised that he had called after Blaine as Blaine himself was.

"I'm... I'm sorry Kyle didn't show."

Blaine's eyes darkened a little, his brows frowning.

"I... I overheard you talk with David. Before the show." Kurt explained apologetically.

"O."

"I wished my dad could've been there too. But hey! We still won, right?"

Kurt let some jazz hands accompany his last sentence, and Blaine couldn't hold back a smile. Kurt would always know how to make him smile. And he was right, of course - Blaine wasn't the only one who had had to miss someone in the audience.

"We did," he said simply, "we did. Goodnight, Kurt."

He heard Kurt return his goodnight wishes as he walked back to his room, taking his cell phone out of his pocket to check it for what must have been the 250th time that night.

Not even a text.