"She's gone, Kurt," his father said, tears in his eyes.

"You mean mom? I know she's at the hospital. Why are you crying?"

"No, Kurt, I mean... Your mom... she's gone."

Kurt sat in shock for nearly five minutes. His mom was...gone? He knew his mom was very, very sick, and that she'd been in the hospital a lot lately, but when his dad said gone, did he mean...? No he couldn't mean that. That wasn't going to happen. Kurt's mom wasn't actually gone.

Right?

"You... you mean...she..." Kurt's eyes welled up and tears spilled over. He desperately willed himself not to believe it. This wasn't happening. He was just dreaming. He was going to wake up in a few minutes and his mom was going to help him with the full milk container again and...

But the way his dad nodded told him otherwise.

Kurt pulled his knees up to his chest, placing his chin on them. The eight year-old simply stared at one of the loose threads on his blanket. Normally, a loose thread would drive him insane, and he'd pick at it until it came off, but now he just looked at it. The tears kept flowing out of his eyes, because they needed somewhere to go. They needed to escape, the way Kurt did. Kurt didn't blink the tears away. He just let them do as they pleased.

"I'm so, so sorry, Kurt," his father was saying.

"'S not your fault," the third grader murmured in reply, voice thick.

"Can I get you anything? A glass of water maybe?"

'Redvines," Kurt thought. "Blaine," he said aloud, looking up at his father. "I want... I need Blaine. Dad, can he come over, please?"

Kurt didn't know why he wanted Blaine, but he remembered back when he found out about his mom being sick, and Blaine had made him feel better. The way Blaine held his hand and hugged him and gave him Redvines made him feel better.

Burt looked at his son for a moment, a little confused. He hadn't expected that answer from Kurt. Nonetheless, he stood up and gave him a hug before saying, "Of course. I'll go call his house right now."

"Thanks," Kurt mumbled as his dad left the room. Once he heard his dad's voice on the phone upstairs, Kurt quietly slipped out of his room and dashed silently down the hall.

He stopped at his parents room and eased the door open, careful not to make a noise. He pulled one of the drawers of his mom's dresser open, and found multiple T-shirts. He searched through them, and pulled out the one that had always been his favorite. It was plain white, with a big Mickey Mouse on the front. He'd bought it for her when they went to Disney World a few years back.

Taking the shirt, Kurt shoved the drawer closed again and scurried back to his room, careful to be quiet enough so that his dad wouldn't hear him. He proceeded to jump onto the bed again, where he pressed the shirt to his face and inhaled, then stuffed it under his pillow as he heard his dad open his door.

"Kurt?" Burt called down the steps. "Blaine's going to be here soon."

"Thank you," Kurt said.

"Do you want some apple juice?"

"Sure," Kurt crawled out of his bed again and joined his dad upstairs, taking his outstretched hand.

XOXOX

By the time Blaine got to Kurt's house, the latter was curled up on his bed again, crying harder than before. Because it finally hit him. At first it was just a little numbing and confusing, but now he understood. She wasn't coming back.

She wasn't coming back.

"Kurt?"

When the soft voice sounded from his doorway, Kurt shoved his mother's shirt back underneath his pillow and sat up, turning around. The small boy's watery blue eyes met Blaine's round hazel ones, which also filled with tears almost instantaneously.

"Blaine," Kurt choked out, dashing off of his mattress and slamming into his friend, arms wrapping around the shorter boy's middle and broken face pressed into his shoulder. He had no idea what it was about Blaine that made him feel better, but when he allowed himself a shaky breath and inhaled the scent of his very best friend, he relaxed. Even if it was just by a little bit.

There were three scents in the world that made Kurt feel safe, at home: His mother, his father, and Blaine.

Blaine's arms wrapped around Kurt and held him tight.

"I brought you Redvines," he said after a minute, pulling away and holding up the jumbo bad of candy. "I thought you might need a lot."

Kurt almost laughed. He wanted to, but he didn't. He couldn't. Something just felt wrong about wanting to laugh, or even smile.

"Thanks," he mumbled instead.

XOXOX

The next Monday, Kurt was still just as upset as he was on Friday, if not more so. The funeral had been held on Sunday. It had been a closed-casket ceremony. Burt Hummel watched as his son turned and looked over his shoulder while walking away, offering his dad one last sad wave before disappearing into the building. Burt had tried his best to be strong for his son, but it was proving extremely difficult. He had given Kurt the option to stay home from school that day, but the boy had declined, saying that he wanted to see Blaine.

Burt was a little worried about his sons dependency on Blaine. What if either of them had to move away? How would Kurt deal with that? For the time being, though, Burt set those worries aside and was grateful that Kurt had such a good friend.

When Kurt walked into his classroom, he found Blaine was already there, sitting at his desk and reading the second Harry Potter book. The dark-haired boy looked up as Kurt entered the room. He marked and shut his book as Kurt sat in his seat next to him.

"Are you okay?"

Kurt just shrugged, tearing up a little. Darn it. Kurt hated crying at school. Home was okay, but school wasn't because—

"What's wrong, Kurtie?" Dave's voice sneered. "Did you get dirt under your nails?"

Kurt flinched, but grabbed Blaine's sleeve as he moved to snap back at the other boy, shaking his head.

"Don't," Kurt said, not wanting Blaine to get in trouble.

"But he—"

"Please."

Blaine sighed and turned back to his book irritatedly.

XOXOX

"Did you get dirt under your nails?"

Even before he said the words, he already felt bad. Did he regret it? No. But he felt bad. He didn't even know why he was so mean to Kurt, why he'd always been.

Oh, that's right, because Kurt was always so happy. He was always laughing with that Blaine kid. Plus, Kurt was good at everything. Kurt could draw, he could sing, he had really nice handwriting, and the teacher loved him. All of their teachers loved Kurt.

On the inside, Dave just wanted to run up to Kurt and tell him he was sorry, that he didn't mean it. But on the outside, he just laughed and sat down at his desk across the room from the other boy.

XOXOX

That night, while Kurt's dad was tucking him into bed, he was asked if how he was holding up. Kurt shrugged and thought about Dave's sneers at school and the other boys pushing him around all of the time. He almost told his dad about it, but thought it would be better if he didn't his dad had enough on his plate as it was.

"I'll be alright."

"You sure, Kid?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine."