The four days following Kurts hospitalization oscillated between tolerably miserable and entirely unbearable on a minute-by-minute basis. Between the physical ache present in every inch of his body and the constant restlessness induced by desperately trying to reach into corners of his mind that now hid behind locked doors, nothing short of heavy sedatives could pull him down into sleep during the first two nights. Burt stood vigil at his bedside with the exception of bathroom breaks, phone calls and the inevitable need for food. Carole called at least three times every day for updates, always asking if they were both absolutely sure she didnt need to come up there, to which both men assured her that everything was being handled. Finn also offered to fly over, but Burt steadfastly forbade it. With only a few days of school at Ohio State and just a couple of final exams left, he insisted that Finn stick it out, promising that his stepson would see Kurt at Christmas.

Burt took great care not to push Kurt into remembering anything, at times going so far as refusing to answer some of the questions directed at him by his son. On the first day they agreed that it was better for Burt to sometimes simply deny Kurt answers, rather than lie to him. It broke the mans heart to see his kids face fall whenever he responded to a question with a soft shake of his head, or helplessly watch free-flowing tears of frustration when the boy teetered on the precipice of a memory but couldnt quite see over the cliffs edge. Kurts anger and disappointment might ebb for brief moments, simmering rather than boiling, but for the most part these emotions appeared painfully clear in each word and expression.

From what he could piece together from conversations with his dad, he was missing everything starting somewhere in the summer after his junior year up through the day he awoke in the hospital. He couldnt remember receiving an acceptance letter to the college of his dreams, his graduation, his first day in New York, anything about his classes, or even the new friends that Burt spent hours conversing with on Kurts phone, doling out updates and gently advising them not to visit. The whole scenario seemed entirely unreal. Here he was in New York with an entirely new life built for him, friends he couldnt possibly have imagined meeting only five months previous and experiences that he probably never dreamed of; yet, he knew nothing about it.

Also on that first day, Burt provided Kurt with more details about the accident that landed him in this wretched situation.

"I aint gonna sugar coat this, bud. Obviously I wasnt there, but what they told me is that a witness saw you come out of an apartment building, movin pretty quickly. Being winter and all, the couple a steps down to the sidewalk were really slick. You slipped, hit the concrete head first, and tumbled down the stairs- thats how your arm broke."

Kurt winced, which only served to stretch the skin on his scalp and cause the massive bruise to twinge. Phantom pains doubled on top of very real pain at the thought of such an incident and a plethora of new questions joined the hundreds already swamping his mind. Where was this apartment? Was he visiting someone? If so, who? Or did it happen outside his place? What was he doing that night to begin with? Why was he in such a hurry, especially since he must have known the stoop would be covered with ice? For the umpteenth time in 24 hours, he clawed uselessly at his head and cried, falling in to Burts warm embrace and being slowly rocked until a tentative calm finally took over his spent mind.

On the second day Kurt asked where in the city he lived. Obviously if hed been in school he was living somewhere, which meant that a building existed where his things were stored. He probably even had a roommate or two out there. Burt swore to him that everything was being taken care of and that he shouldnt worry about it. This did nothing to quell Kurts anxiety. What was going to happen when he was cleared to leave the hospital? He couldnt possibly plunge right back in to a life he knew nothing about with people who would appear to him as strangers. These fears were verbalized through sobs and hiccups, with his dads soft voice explaining that he would be taking Kurt back to Ohio for awhile and that his possessions were being packed up by people he promised were the boys friends, even if he didnt know them right now. He explained that, should Kurt feel up to it, his spot at NYADA would be waiting for him in September. Because this whole incident occurred right before finals, unfortunately his entire semester was essentially null and void, as he wouldnt be able to pass any classes without taking the tests-- even if he could actually remember a scrap of the material. This news left him both grateful and disappointed. At least he had somewhere to go in the future, but it also meant that the last few months were a pointless waste of his time and money. Though, at this point, it felt like the last two years of his life were a nothing except waste of time.

On the morning of Kurts scheduled release, a nurse called Burt into the hallway, explaining that a man who wished to speak with him was waiting outside. As Kurt slowly ate breakfast, clumsy without the use of his right arm, the sound of raised voices filtered through the door. Though he couldnt discern individual words, it was evident that one voice belonged to his dad. A few minutes later, Burt reappeared, a bit red in the face and carrying a duffel bag.

"Dad?" Kurt asked timidly, "Are you ok?"

Burt used a free hand to push up the brim of his baseball cap slightly and rub his eyes before answering.

"Yeah, kiddo. Im fine."

Doubtful of this answer, but knowing better than to risk pushing the matter, Kurt asked,

"Who was that?"

"Just one of your friends. He brought over some clothes and a few other things so that you can get ready for the plane ride."

Still perplexed and caving in to curiosity, the boy continued his line of inquiry,

"I know you were yelling. I heard you. What was that about?"

Burt rubbed at his face more vigorously than before, clearly flustered as he wracked his brain for a suitable response. This definitely wasnt an appropriate time for the whole truth to come out, but nor could he avoid providing an answer, and lying wouldnt solve anything either.

"This guy used to be a very close friend of yours and hes worried about you almost as much as I am. Were both just angry and tired, so we kinda snapped and took it out on each other for a minute." As much as he wanted to tack the words "everything is fine" on the end of his explanation, the older man knew they counted as a lie, so he bit back the hollow affirmation.

Knowing that his father probably wouldnt answer, Kurt couldnt help trying anyway. He proceeded to rush out the next words,

"Who was it? Maybe if you give me a name Ill remem..."

Holding up one hand, Burt cut him off, shaking his head with eyes closed.

"Not today, kiddo. Im sorry."

Kurt sighed, unsurprised. Dutifully he accepted the bag handed to him, extracting the yoga pants, boxers, t-shirt and Dalton hoodie inside. The idea of going out in public like this made him cringe, but considering the trying day ahead of him combined with his general apathy towards everything right now, he wasnt going to fight. Once Burt helped him seal his cast in plastic wrap, he slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom to shower and change before being discharged. Under the mercifully soothing spray of water, Kurt managed to find the one bright spot in his situation. If he couldnt remember New York, at least Ohio might offer him the comfort of feeling like home. It was small consolation, all things considered, but it was a pinprick of light at the end of the long tunnel of this past week.

Kurt slowly dried off before struggling into clothes for the first time since being placed in the cumbersome cast. Without bothering to do more than run a comb quickly through his hair, he brushed his teeth and staunchly avoided looking in the mirror any longer than necessary. Upon reemerging his dad removed the wrapping, slipped socks onto Kurts feet and tied the laces of his drab, but comfortable, running shoes. After making sure they had all their belongings gathered up they went downstairs to sign out. Burt hailed a cab to take them to the airport, and the next few hours passed in relative silence. Before their flight the men bought a couple of sandwiches for lunch and picked up a magazine each at a shop near their gate. In the time between walking out the hospital doors in New York and arriving at Burts car in the parking garage of the Port Columbus International airport, they probably exchanged a total of 10 sentences, each of them lost in their own little worlds. The 2 ½ hour drive back to Lima wasnt much more lively, the radio being the only noise breaking the quiet. At one point Burt asked if there was anything Kurt especially wanted for dinner, but the boy only continued staring listlessly out the window and muttered that he honestly didnt care.

A few miles away from the house, Kurt nearly broke down again. As the streets of Lima wound around him, he realized that, other than his fathers face, these were the first recognizable things hed set eyes on in almost a week. He took a muted form of solace in this, accepting the brief reprieve from the anguish of unfamiliarity he suffered while in the city. Suddenly his heart felt heavy with longing to be home, to see Carole, even though in his memory shed only been part of the family for about a year, to sleep in his own bed, to surround himself with the past that he knew. Even though he was aware that the relief would be a temporary, superficial band-aid covering what amounted to a gaping wound, he refused to deny himself the pleasure of one night to relish a sense of normality before the storm lurking just around the corner crashed full force upon him.

About 15 minutes away from the house, Kurt finally spoke up.

"Is Carole home?"

Visibly startled by the unexpected conversation, Burt recovered enough to answer,

"Uh, no, she had to work tonight. Probably wont be home before you fall asleep. But shell be around tomorrow while Im at the shop, so shes all yours." He paused before continuing,

"I figured when were all together tomorrow well talk about... about what to do next."

"Oh. Ok."

Silence reigned for another couple of minutes before Burt piped back up.

"You left a lot here when you moved, and we havent turned your room into an office or anything, so youll have some clothes and books and things."

Kurt considered this.

"When is my stuff from New York going to arrive?"

He noticed his dad stiffen slightly.

"I think its getting shipped in the morning, so I dunno, two days?"

There was another pregnant pause.

"Look, Kurt, I think when it all gets here you shouldnt, uh, well, it might not be the best idea to open everything up right away. Just in case its too much at once, ya know?"

Kurt nodded, figuring that would be the case. In all honesty he wasnt sure hed be ready to face that situation so soon, anyway. Burts words caused him to consider another possibility, and though he posed it as a question, its came out sounding more like a statement.

"You asked Carole to go through my room and take out anything I added after my junior year, didnt you?"

"Yeah. I did. But we didnt get rid of anything, its all just waiting in boxes, for when youre ready." Burt shifted somewhat guiltily at the admission, but Kurt understood that his parents were only trying to do what was best.

"Thank you," he murmured, "I appreciate that."

Soon enough they pulled into the Hummel-Hudson driveway and walked their limited luggage to the front door. Kurt half expected begin weeping as soon as he saw the well-trod hallway and inhaled the soothing smells of his childhood. To his surprise, all he felt was contentment, and he decided to allow himself to be wrapped up in the warm blanket of that moment until morning.

Before leaving for work Carole prepared one of Kurts favorite pasta dishes and left it in the fridge to be reheated when they returned. Kurt didnt even bother to go downstairs to his room before sitting down to wait for dinner, realizing that he was hungrier than he thought during the drive home. Within 30 minutes both men were pleasantly full and Burt was cleaning up dishes. Still not having made a move towards his old room, Kurt sat silently sipping the last of the water in his glass.

"So, kiddo, do you wanna watch a movie or something? I think Carole has a copy of your favorite... whats it called? Moola Rogue?"

For the first time in what felt like eons, Kurt smiled and released a genuine laugh, which Burt gladly returned, overjoyed to finally see his son relaxed again.

"Its ‘Moulin Rouge, dad. And thanks, but Im wiped. I think Im just gonna go to bed. Been a long week."

Still smiling, Burt nodded, moving forward to hug the boy.

"Alright, son. You get some rest. And take it easy tomorrow. You and Carole can bake cookies and watch, uh, whatever it is you guys like to watch on TV all day." He turned his face to kiss the top of Kurts head before releasing him.

"Thanks, dad. For everything. Goodnight."

"No problem. Gnight, Kurt."

Kurt flashed one more small smile before turning to walk the familiar path down to his bedroom. He took a deep breath before opening the door and flicking the light switch. Walking inside and closing the door behind him, he cast a long look around the room. In many ways it was exactly as he remembered. Most of the same pictures and knickknacks appeared to be right where he last saw them, although there were noticeable gaps on some of the shelves that he would never deliberately leave there. Those must be the places where Carole pulled something off and delegated it to a box. The thought occurred to him to go looking for these boxes, but he knew that even if he found them the results would do him more harm than good right now.

Sighing, he opened the dresser drawer that he hoped still contained at least one set of pajamas. Finding that it did, he went through the slow process of awkwardly maneuvering out of his clothes and into the worn, flannel PJs. The closer he drew to success, the heavier his eyelids became as the full weight of his exhaustion settled in. Having already forgone proper skin care for five days, he figured that one more night wasnt going to make much of a difference. With the lights off the moon shone through a small window near the ceiling, leaving just enough glow on the floor to see him safely to the double bed. Once under the cool covers and arranged in a position that allowed the cast to rest comfortably at his side, Kurt closed his eyes, slipping quickly into a deep, dreamless sleep, the likes of which he had begun to doubt he would ever experience again.