The next day Mom has another lengthy planning meeting for the charity auction. I wander around the house aimlessly for a few hours, texting with Kurt between his repairs at the shop. Mike calls and we chat for a while, catching up on the past few days. I admit to him that I visited Sebastian in the hospital, and he doesnt judge me, which I appreciate. After we hang up, I try without success to get some sleep. Finally, boredom takes over and I dial the number for the cab company again.

The hospital is all decked out for Christmas, with festive ribbon wreaths on the doors and a big artificial tree in the lobby. I stop to admire the colored glass baubles, taking a few photos with my cell phone before taking the elevator to the fourth floor. Theres another tree up here, this one decorated with pretty icicle ornaments. I snap a couple more photos before I see a large blond boy approaching me.

"Cant use your cell on this floor," Lawrence reminds me, and I turn my phone off. "Didnt think Id see you back here again so soon."

"Nothing to do at home. Are you leaving?"

"Just for a little while, Ive got a family thing my mom wouldnt let me miss. Ill come back later. But, uh, before I go..." He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small envelope. "The EMTs put Sebastians clothes and personal effects in a stack in his room. I pulled this out, figured I should give it back to you."

I open the envelope, tilting it and sliding my promise ring and chain into my palm. Just holding the ring again makes me feel steadier. "Thanks."

"Dont mention it," he says, then heads for the elevators.

I walk down to Sebastians room, and peer in to find hes fast asleep. I sit outside the room for a couple of hours, fiddling with broken link on the chain necklace and listening to the rhythmic beeps of Sebastians heart monitor. Eventually Im able to repair the chain and slip it over my head again, the ring resting securely against my heart.

I head down to the cafeteria around two oclock to buy a cup of strong coffee. The nightmares are still keeping me from sleeping, and caffeine helps with the fatigue. I buy a sandwich too, eating it slowly and watching as a group of high schoolers sings Christmas carols to the room.

High school feels like another lifetime ago. Im only a year older than these kids, and I feel like an adult compared to them. After a while, I give up on the sandwich and head back to the ICU.

Theres an older man sitting in the chair outside of Sebastians room. He looks exhausted, and Im pretty sure hes been crying. A knot of tension starts to relax in my back — Id been hoping Sebastians parents would change their minds and come back from Rome early after all.

"Hi," I say softly, not wanting to startle him. "Im Blaine."

He looks up at me, takes in my sling and bruised face, and his expression crumples. "Oh god. Look at you."

"Youre his dad?"

The man nods, taking out a handkerchief and pressing it against his eyes.

I wait until hes composed himself before I turn and look into Sebastians room. "Has he woken up at all?"

"Twice. Just for a few minutes the first time, a little longer the second. But he knew where he was, who he was. All good signs. Not like last..." He trails off, looking mortified at himself.

"Its okay. I dont even remember waking up from my coma."

"From what I hear, theres a lot you dont remember."

I shrug, then gesture to the chair beside him. He nods quickly, and I sit down, careful not to jostle my sling. "Lost about sixteen months worth of memories, and then spent several more months after that in a coma. Im glad Sebastian wont have to go through all that."

He shakes his head, folding and refolding the handkerchief with trembling hands. "Blaine, I hope you know how sorry I am about all this."

"You? Why? Its not your fault."

"My sons behavior—"

"Your son isnt a bad guy," I tell him firmly, and he swallows a muffled sob. "I mean, he has some impulse control problems, dont get me wrong. But maybe now that youre back from Rome, he can really get some—"

"Rome? I wasnt in Rome." He blinks at me.

"But Lawrence said you were."

"No, thats..." His face falls. "You think Im Sebastians dad."

I can feel my heartbeat quicken. "Youre not?"

"No," he says quietly. "No, my names Henry Adams."

"Youre Morgans father." My breaths are coming faster now. "Your son did this to us."

"He did."

"And you let me talk about impulse control problems?"

My voice echoes loudly down the hallway, making him look around uncomfortably. "Im sorry. I did try reaching out to you. And to your boyfriend."

"You stay away from him," I say, standing up too fast, making my head hurt. "Stay away from both of us."

He raises both hands placatingly. "I didnt mean to upset you."

"You cant buy our silence. The evidence is all there, and were not going to lie on the stand about it. Your son almost killed me — twice —"

"I dont expect either of you to lie about it in court. Thats not what this is about."

"What, then? What do you want?"

He pauses. "Can we go somewhere else to talk about this?"

"No," I say, moving to sit down in a chair across the hall from him. "Ive been alone in a room with your son, and we can both see how that worked out for me."

"I..." He looks around again, then leans forward, still speaking softly. "I have a lawyer on retainer, and he called me after looking at the police report. He told me he could get Morgan off on all charges."

"Bullshit," I spit out.

"Hes a good lawyer. A very good lawyer, but... not a very good man, as it turns out." He shakes his head. "He started talking about Lima, and how the average citizen there is pretty conservative, and how they probably would think someone who beat up a couple of gay kids was a hero."

I swallow hard, trying to keep the rising nausea at bay. "Whats your point?"

"My point is that I fired him." His eyes look at me pleadingly. "I fired him, but hes right."

"That your kids a hero?"

"That you wont get restitution for what happened to you. Not in a court in this neck of the woods. One juror might be swayed, but put twelve conservative folks from Lima together, and the pack mentality will come out."

"So Morgans going to walk, is what youre saying."

"Morgans going to plead guilty." He waits a moment while I struggle to get my breathing under control. "We all talked about it as a family. He understands that what he did was wrong, and hes going to take responsibility for it."

Its more than I could have hoped for — our attacker behind bars, without Kurt or I ever having to take the witness stand. "So what do you want from me, then?"

"When I was talking with my lawyer — back when he was my lawyer — he said something about a civil trial. About how if you and Kurt were to sue my family, youd be laughed out of the courtroom. And I think hes right about that too."

"I dont—"

"You know he came out to us when he was already at Dalton," he says suddenly. "Morgan, I mean. His sophomore year. Hed already known he was gay for a while, I guess, but hed never said anything, and my wife and I had never suspected. He was... he was such a boy, you know? A star athlete in lacrosse, loved watching Buckeyes games with me... it just never occurred to us. So when he told us, we were stunned. We didnt know what to say. Im not homophobic, Im not, I just didnt know how to respond. Finally my wife asked him if he was dating anyone at Dalton. He told us he was seeing Sebastian. And I said, Oh, well, as long as its Sebastian." He stops, shaking his head. "I meant that I was glad it was someone we knew, someone we could trust not to hurt him. I didnt mean..."

"What?"

"That he could only date a boy if it was Sebastian. Which is how he took it. He said he thought Sebastian was the only person that we would approve of."

I remember, suddenly, Morgans shout to Lawrence in Robs apartment — Sebastian was my only option. "I still dont see what that has to do with me."

"My son is responsible for what he did to you, and he will accept that responsibility. But Im not without fault in this, Blaine." He clear his throat. "Im prepared to offer you a sizable sum of money, in lieu of a civil trial, if you agree in writing that you wont sue my family or speak about this to anyone in the media."

I let out a slow breath. "The media. So thats what this is really about."

"Youd agree to keep this quiet—"

"I really believed you for a minute there. That whole thing about feeling responsible—"

"I do feel responsible—"

"As long as it stays behind closed doors," I finish for him. "As long as no one else finds out."

He clears his throat. "I wont deny that the timing is particularly bad. Im in the midst of negotiating a new contract at CNN, and the bad publicity could really do a number on my career." He opens his palms. "I have to think about my family."

"Youre a billionaire."

"Not quite."

"Close enough. Your deal at CNN wouldnt make a dent in your fortune."

"Man is more than his fortune, Blaine. I have my own reputation to worry about."

"Did Morgan even want to plead guilty?" I demand. "Or did you manipulate him into it?"

"Morgan understands the impact of his actions. On you, and on his family." He watches me closely. "Id cover all of your medical bills, therapy, everything. Plus an additional cash settlement for your trouble."

"Youve got to be kidding."

"Im very serious."

"My trouble?"

"Perhaps that wasnt the best—"

"So tell me, then, how do you come up with a number? Whats the going rate these days? Is it a certain amount for every week I was in a coma, or is there a flat rate?"

He rubs his forehead slowly, not saying anything for a long time. Finally he says quietly, "The standard award is $1,000 per day for coma victims."

"Theres a standard award?" I ask, flabbergasted.

"That works out to roughly $120,000 for coma restitution—"

"You think you can put a dollar value on what I went through? On what my family went through?" Im starting to yell, now. "How much, then? All together?"

He shifts, looking uncomfortable. "Im prepared to offer you half a million dollars."

"Shove it up your ass," I spit out.

"Blaine, be reasonable, thats—"

"Whats the breakdown on that? How much for every month he wiped from my memory?"

"You dont—"

"Do you have any idea how insulting this is?"

He rubs his palms on his knees. "Look, Ill... Ill go to $700,000."

"Ill tell you what you can do with your—"

"Blaine!"

The sudden outburst makes us both turn in surprise to see Kurt sprinting down the hallway toward us. Ive barely stood up from my chair when he reaches me, throwing his arms around me and clutching me tightly. "Kurt? Whats wrong? Are you all right?"

"I couldnt reach you," he gasps, pulling me closer. "Your cell was turned off, and you werent at home, and your mom and dad didnt know where you were, and your car was still in your driveway and I thought he must have found a way to come after you, to finish what he started—"

"Oh sweetheart." I rub his back with one arm, ignoring how the tight embrace makes my shoulder ache. "Im so sorryI made you worry. I should have told you I had to turn off my cell. I wasnt thinking." Hes still trembling, and I press a kiss to his temple. "How did you even know to look here?"

"Mike," he murmurs. "Mike had a hunch."

We stand holding each other, rocking back and forth until he grows calmer. Then he pulls away suddenly. "Oh god, Ive got to call my dad. He was so worried too, hes been calling all the local police departments to see if they knew anything. He turned away two customers because he wouldnt get off the phone to talk to them."

Guilt wraps around my spine, creeping and hot. Burt cant afford to be turning away business, and its all because of me and my thoughtlessness. "Kurt, Im so sorry—"

"Its okay. Youre okay, its okay." He gives me another fierce hug. "Ill be right back, I cant call him on this floor. Youll be here?"

"Ill be here."

I watch as he hurries back down the hall. Its only when he disappears through the double doors that I remember that Morgans dad is here, too. I turn to look at him, and find that he was watching Kurt too. He has the strangest look on his face. If I didnt know better, Id say it was shame.

"A million apiece," he says. "All of the bills both of your families incurred, plus a million for each of you." He must see something shift in my expression, because he adds, "A million for each family, too."

I drop back into the chair, my mind racing. A million dollars. A million for Kurt, a million for his parents. All of the Hummels financial problems would be solved. Burt could afford to hire more employees again and cut back on his own hours. Carole could quit her second job. They could move back into a nicer neighborhood. Finn could get his college fund back, and Kurt...

I take a shaky breath. This money could change everything for Kurt. He could go to college, pursue his dreams. Leave Ohio, if thats what he wants, and know that his family would be fine in his absence.

"Ill talk to him," I say finally. Mr. Adams nods, and I set off down the hallway after Kurt.

"So let me get this straight," Burt says slowly. "This guys son beat the crap out of you two, and he wants to pay us off to keep it quiet?"

Were all sitting in the Hummels living room, my family and Kurts, and theres no small amount of tension in the room.

My dad sighs. "Im not surprised, to be honest. When I heard whose son it was, I wondered if hed try this."

"We dont have to take it, do we?" Mom asks. "Cant we sue them anyway?"

Burt looks over at Carole, then clears his throat. "I, ah. Im not in the financial position to pay for a lawyer right now, Cecelia."

"Moneys not a problem, we can pay for the lawyer," Dad says. "But he may be right in saying that we wouldnt get a fair trial for the boys here.

"What would the point of a trial be, anyway?" Finn speaks up, and we look at him quizzically. "I mean, Blaine said Mr. Adams offered him some money already. So is the trial to get more money out of him? Or to make everything public?"

I look over at Kurt, whos sitting on the floor, staring at his lap. He hasnt said a word.

"Because the thing is," Finn continues, "the trial wouldnt be about a homophobic attack. It would be about a bunch of gay guys in a love triangle. And thats how it would look in the news. Theyd spin it so that everyone involved looked like the bad guy. You know?"

Theres a long silence.

"I guess we should know how much hes offering," Dad says.

"He says hell pay off all of our medical and psychiatric bills. Plus a million dollars each to me, Kurt, and our families."

Carole lets out a squeak and clutches Burts arm as Finn swears under his breath. My parents are more subdued in their reactions; they just raise their eyebrows slightly. But its Kurt who I watch closely, anxious to see his reaction.

"Do you even want that guys money, though?" Finn asks me. "You were the one who lost the most from all this, Blaine. What do you want to do?"

Kurt finally looks up at me, his eyes wide and pained, and he doesnt have to say a word.

"I want to take the deal," I say, and his shoulders slump with relief.