Kurt Hummel has wanted to go to college in New York for as long as he can remember. Living in the city was just something he needed to do. But that dream was shattered when his father had another heart attack his senior year. A few months later, Burt had a minor stroke. He lost most of the function in the right side of his body and some of his ability to speak.

A physical therapist had been coming to the house three times a week to help Burt with his motor skills while a specialist would come almost every day to help Burt learn what he forgot. It took about six months for Burt to be able to gain complete control of his vocal chords. Only a slightly lisp gave away any hint that his speech had been affected.

Kurt has spent the last three years helping Carol and Finn take care of Burt. It's been hard. Kurt has been spending most of his time at Hummel Tires and Lube with Finn, with Burt being confined to his bed, Kurt and Finn were left to run the shop. Carol only works part time now, the rest of the time spent taking care of Burt. She wanted to quit so all of her time could be spend taking care of her husband but Burt wouldn't let her. He said she needed to get out of the house at some point; staying home wouldn't make him better.

Finn and Kurt still lived at home. Rachel and Blaine moved to New York right after graduation, leaving Lima, Finn, and Kurt behind. The first few months were the hardest. Kurt woke almost every night from nightmares. Blaine was the star in each and every one of them. They would range from Blaine getting mugged to him finding another man to be with. One who could share his life with him in New York. They rattled Kurt to his core. Blaine was it for Kurt. He didn't want anyone else. Blaine would visit when he could, but it wasn't enough. Kurt had a constant ache in his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to be with Blaine. Literally be with him, in New York. But they understood that Kurt needed to stay with Burt.

Finn must have had similar nightmares, because both of them would end up in the living room watching mindless infomercials until it was a reasonable time to get ready to head to the shop. Neither talked about their dreams, the idea of saying their fears out loud only made them that much more real. Finn was where he wanted to be. He wanted to work at the tire shop since his senior year. Rachel was furious, but she understood. It almost hurt more that they did understand. Kurt didn't know when, or if, he would get out of Lima. He wished that Blaine would just break up with him so he could find some who could be in New York with him. Kurt didn't have the strength to do it, and, apparently, neither did Blaine.

That morning, Kurt went to his private bathroom and showered. His vanity covered with facial creams and hair products sat in the corner, covered in a layer of dust. The sight of it made the ache in his chest grow. Since he started working at the stop full time, it was pointless to use any hair products. Each night he applied moisturizers but he didn't go any further than that. With work and taking care of Burt, Kurt didn't go out much. He didn't see the point in dolling himself up for no reason. A sad smile would find itself on his face every time he thought about it.

He never said any of this out loud. He had a feeling that Burt knew, but he could never confirm it. Kurt loved his father too much to hurt him like that. The only thing Kurt had left was his pride. He wouldn't lose that. Or, at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

As Kurt was pulling his tattered jeans on, his phone started ringing. The annoying ring filled the small room. "Hello?" Kurt said, running his hand through his hair, the action making him grimace.

"Kurt," breathed a vaguely familiar male voice. "I take it being stuck in Lima is wonderful?"

"Who is this?" Kurt said. The other voice was slightly scratchy, as if the man hadn't spoken in a long time. It had a superior air to it. Kurt thought back, trying to remember who owned this voice to no avail.

Kurt must have taken longer than he realized to connect this voice to someone, because the man laughed. "Aw, come on, Kurtie," the voice said, dripping with sarcasm. "How don't you remember me?" Kurt sighed angrily. He didn't have time for this. He had to leave to go to work in five minutes.

"What do you want?" Kurt growled. He put the phone on speaker so he could finish getting dressed.

"You'll see soon enough," the voice replied. Before Kurt could respond, the call ended. He shook his head, trying to clear it out. That was probably the strangest thing that has happened to him in a long time.

"Kurt! Hurry up!" Finn shouted from the living room. Kurt shook himself again. With that, he left for work and forgot about the phone call.

.-.-.-.-.

"I'll be right back, Finn," Kurt called. "I'm running into town to get lunch."

"I want a beef sandwich with the works," Finn called back. Every day, at noon, Kurt would take whoever's car they took that day and pick up lunch from whatever restaurant Finn had chosen. Today, it was the deli five minutes away.

Kurt made his way to the back of the shop where the locker room and shower was. He stepped out of his jumpsuit, placing it in his locker, without folding it. He made his way towards the front of the shop where Finn had parked his car that morning. The summer air was hot and muggy, making it feel like Kurt was breathing in more humidity than air. The sun had been beating on Finn's small black car all day; there was no way it would be anything but unbearable inside.

Kurt weighed the options in his head. The deli that he was going to stop at was only three short blocks away. Everything was made to order, so it wouldn't take him long at all.

He sighed, and started towards the restaurant, his phone in his hand. He was going to call his dad, like he did every day on his way to get lunch, when he saw the call from this morning. You'll see soon enough, ran through his head. What did that mean? Was he an old friend from high school?

His train of thought was cut off by a bone rattling boom. Kurt found himself, face up, on the ground before he knew what was even happening. His ears were ringing and his head was spinning. The earth seemed to shake from under him. He couldn't tell if it really was the ground or if he was the one shaking. The houses in his peripheral vision started to spin. He closed his eyes, trying to will the world to stop moving. He concentrated on his stomach, trying not to throw up.

He opened his eyes to see if it helped. It didn't. From where he was laying on the side walk, he could see black smoke pouring into the sky. Everything seemed to be so bright, but incredibly dark at the same time. The edges of his vision turned a dull grey. As he concentrated on finding where he was, he vaguely felt debris hitting him, the sharp pain, pulling him back.

As the dizziness subsided, Kurt placed his palms on the ground, trying to push himself up. With the slightest pressure, Kurt felt small pinches in his hands. The loud ringing in his ears subsided, pulling an odd silence behind it.

Looking around him, Kurt found that everything was in chaos. People were running around, pointing towards the smoke.

Kurt shook his head, pieces of debris that must have been stuck in his hair started flying in different directions. He pushed himself the rest of the way off the ground, stumbling a bit as he found his center of gravity again. The ringing returned, as did the nausea.

He took a few steps closer the smoke. The grey at the edges of his vision pushed in, making it almost impossible to see what was on fire. Squinting his eyes helped. That's when he realized it was Finn's car engulfed in flames, the smoke billowing from it.

Fire engines were pulling up to the inferno, ambulances close behind. Kurt realized that their sirens were silenced, which he remembered finding odd.

Kurt's mind was spinning, trying to grasp what was going on, as a man in a blue collared shirt approached him. "Finn," Kurt said, grabbing his throat. He felt his vocal chords move, but no sound followed. He started to panic, he tried to speak again, but still nothing.

Kurt noticed that the man lips were moving, his face blank. Kurt's whole body was racked with tremors as the man flashed a light in front of his eyes. He flinched away, trying to see what was going on behind the man. Finn was over there somewhere, and he needed to know that his brother was okay. But, the man pulled Kurt back, saying something.

"I can't hear you," Kurt tried to say. "Speak louder."

The man moved forward, reaching for Kurt's face. Kurt backed away. He didn't want this man touching him. Couldn't he see that Finn was in there? That he needed to get in there to help Finn? Apparently he didn't because he took a step forward, his hand still out stretched. He tapped Kurt's ear, and when he pulled away, there was blood on his fingers.

The tremors worsened. The man continued to talk, pointing to different parts of Kurt's body.

"I still can't hear you," Kurt tried to say. Another man started running towards them, pushing a gurney. Kurt's vision blurred, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to bring himself back. But it was useless. One moment the two men were forcing him on the gurney and the next he was at the hospital.

When the room swam into view, Kurt noticed the web of wires surrounding him, and a steady beeping. Someone was in the chair next to him. He concentrated on the hand in his. His first thought was Blaine. But the hand in his was too large. The calluses too rough. Kurt breathed deeply, willing himself not to cry.

"Hey, kiddo," Burt said. It sounded far away, but at least Kurt could hear.

"Dad?" Kurt said, he felt the hoarseness in his voice more than he heard it. As his eyes scanned the small room, he realized that Burt was the only one there. The lack of the rest of his family sent shocks of terror through his body. "Where's Finn? Is he okay?" He tried to sit up, but he only succeeded in tangling himself in the wires.

"He's fine," Burt said, trying to push Kurt back down. "The bomb—"

"Bomb?" Kurt asked, his heart in his throat. "Who would put a bomb in Finn's car?" How had he not realized that it was a bomb?

"We don't know," Burt said, "The police will be here to take your statement soon." Kurt's eyes stayed on his father, silently asking him to continue. "Finn wasn't hurt. Neither was anyone else at the shop. Everyone is safe."

Kurt breathed deeply, and then ask, "What happened?"

"The only thing we know for sure is the bomb had a timer," Burt said, his voice shaking. "Chief Todd thinks whoever put it there, knew you woulda been in the car at noon."

"So, the bomb was meant for me?"

"Yes," Burt said. A chill swept over Kurt, making the burning in Kurt's leg and hand to his attention. "You crushed your phone when you fell, and fragments cut into you pretty badly. A chunk of the car ended up in your leg. Both your ear drums burst. The doctor said that you'd heal up fine." Silence fell over them. Both soaking in the fact that Kurt is lucky enough to still be alive.

Kurt must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, the room was empty.

About an hour later, the doctor came in to check on him and to retell him everything Burt had said. His injuries weren't life threatening, so he was clear to go home the next morning.

Finn came to visit him after his shift. It was short, but it made Kurt feel better to see that Finn was completely unharmed. From what Finn told him, he and three other people were hurt, all passers-by, and the only casualty was the dog that was barking across the street. Kurt didn't talk much. Too much was running through his mind to have a proper conversation.

After years of nightmares and unspoken communication between the two of them, Finn could tell Kurt wanted to be left alone.

Once he was alone, Kurt wanted nothing more than to have the distraction of someone in the room, even if no one spoke. Kurt's mind when straight to Blaine. He missed his boyfriend more now than ever. He wanted the protection of Blaine's arms around him. He didn't even know if Blaine heard about the accident.

He couldn't stop thinking about how scared Blaine would be for him. Then about the possibility of Blaine not caring. His subconscious liked the latter idea, and scene upon scene flashed behind his eyes.

Damn it. That guy was so close. I was almost free of Kurt, Blaine said in Kurt's mind. His voice colored with anger. A knot in his stomach grew. Lying on his side, he curled in on himself. Praying to whoever was listening that the action of curling in on himself would push the awful images out of his head.

Carol popped her head in when she walked by or had a small break, pulling him from his own mind. The distraction was lovely. Until Carol said she couldn't get a hold of Blaine. Kurt's heart sank at her words. The rift between them was growing every day and Kurt didn't know what to do.

For the first time in three years, Kurt cried himself to sleep.

.-.-.-.-.

The next morning Kurt was released, just at the doctor said. The grey was still pressing at the edges of his vision, black following in pursuit. Everything was still so far away. Like Kurt was watching his life through a TV. He only felt himself speak and all of his movements were jerky. He vaguely remembers the doctor saying that was from the pain medication.

The trip home was a complete blur. Kurt tried to stand, his left thigh bandaged from where debris had dug itself into his skin. He couldn't put much pressure on it or the stitches would rip, so the doctor gave him a crutch to use when walking or standing.

Carol had to get him a new cell phone. His old one was destroyed by the sound waves from the explosion. His new one didn't have any of his contacts. Not that it really mattered. The only people he ever talked to were Blaine, Finn, Carol, and Burt. His friends didn't really keep contact since they graduated; their own lives were too busy to keep up constant communication. They all made new friends, so Kurt was pushed to the back burner.

Kurt was typing in Blaine's phone number when another call came in.

Unknown.

Kurt pressed the accept button, and said, "Hello."

"You were lucky this time, Kurtie," the same voice from the other day had said. "Figured your self-pity would have gotten the best of you and you would have taken your brothers car. But, no. You had to walk today. Just wait, Kurtie."

And with that, the call ended.

The next number wasn't Blaine's like he planned.

"911. What's your emergency?" came the operators voice.

"My name is Kurt Hummel. The man who put the bomb in my car just called me again. He said it's not over yet." His voice was eerily calm.