Carson walked wearily down the school hallway, his bag slung over one shoulder as he headed in the direction of his locker. It felt more like a huge boulder than a bag, despite the fact that he only had his laptop in it today, but he supposed that this was probably due to the fact that he was just so damn tired. He'd barely been getting any sleep at all for the past couple weeks. He was much too busy worrying about the future as visions of crying babies danced mockingly in his head. Last night had been particularly awful, the precious few hours that he was finally able to sleep tarnished by nightmares of dirty diaper mountains greeting him upon his return home from a dead-end delivery driver job.

He really, really wished that Santana would just make a decision already regarding what she wanted to do about the pregnancy. At the very least, it would let him know exactly how over his life really was so he could adjust his worrying accordingly.

Unfortunately, Santana seemed to be taking her time deciding, and while Carson understood why on a logical level, on an emotional one his patience was wearing extremely thin. Seriously, how much time did she need, anyway? It had already been two weeks since they'd had the pregnancy confirmed. Surely she would have to make a decision soon.

He reached his locker and tiredly spun the lock, cringing when he heard the familiar sound of Santana's heels clacking their way toward him.

"Phillips, I need to borrow your chemistry notes," she barked out by way of a greeting as she leaned up against the wall of lockers with her arms crossed. "I had to skip that period to throw up everything I've ever eaten in the girls' bathroom, and since that's mostly your fault, I think it stands to reason that I'm entitled to your notes."

Carson sighed, too tired to even argue with her as he handed over his chemistry notebook. He was used to being ordered around by now, since Santana had apparently decided that being pregnant meant that Carson was her indentured servant. And as much as he desperately wanted to tell her sometimes to shove it, he did kind of see where she would get that idea, so he generally tried his best to just keep her happy so that he wouldn't have to deal with Angry Santana (which was a scarier and scarier sight these days, thanks to hormones).

Although, sometimes he honestly wondered whether she was putting off making a decision about the pregnancy on purpose in order to prolong the amount of time she had him under her thumb.

"Also, I'm fucking starving, so when you're in line in the cafeteria, pick up, like, three extra pizza slices for me, would you?" Santana continued as Carson silently prayed to various deities for strength. He slammed his locker shut and started back down the hallway, Santana keeping pace beside him.

"And, one more thing, could you do my math homework for me tonight?" asked Santana. "I know you were going to try to hold a meeting of your little book club or whatever, but-"

"Writer's Club," Carson muttered under his breath as they headed for the cafeteria.

"Whatever. I'm sure you can just skip it," she said dismissively. "I'm way too tired to deal with math right now."

"You know, Santana, just because you're... you know... that doesn't mean that I'm your bitch," Carson snapped, finally losing patience and letting his irritation show. "I have important things to do, I can't just constantly drop everything to do shit for you."

"Excuse me?" Santana said, her voice dangerous. "I do believe that this situation is half your problem."

"Exactly. Half," Carson replied through gritted teeth. "It did take both of us to get into this shit. I didn't exactly tie you down and use a turkey baster. I'm tired too, and I have to work harder than ever if I have a snowball's chance in hell of getting out of this shitty town at some point in my life, so no, I will not do your homework for you. You're not brain dead, you're just pr-"

"Carson!" came Kurt's voice from behind them, and Carson felt himself flush, hoping that his twin hadn't heard very much of that conversation. Fortunately, Kurt seemed completely oblivious to the huge secret that Carson had almost spilled right there in the hallway. He threw an arm around Carson and gave Santana a look of annoyance.

"Carson, is Miss Thing here bothering you?" he asked sweetly, directing the question more at Santana than at Carson.

"Tell me, Kurt, which nut do you want to lose today? Right or left?" retorted Santana without missing a beat. "I'm in a generous mood, so I'll let you pick."

"Has anyone pointed out to you that you've been steadily upping the attitude lately?" asked Kurt, squeezing Carson close as he gave Santana the toothy smile he normally reserved for people he planned to destroy. "Did they have a sale on Instant Bitch at the grocery store or something?"

"Yes, right around the same time that the mall had a sale on ridiculous scarves," replied Santana dryly as she examined her nails. "I see you partook."

"I did. Maybe the next time I go shopping, you can come with me," said Kurt sweetly. "Your clothes are looking a little tight lately."

"You know what, Kurt?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, both of you shut up," Carson snapped irritably. "Christ, can I have just one low-stress day?"

"Right," said Kurt quietly, clearly chastised by Carson's outburst. "Right, ok. Let's go eat, hmm? Sit with me?"

Carson took a breath and nodded, allowing Kurt to lead him toward the cafeteria with his arm still around him. "Sounds good," he said.

He really did feel bad for snapping at Kurt, especially since his twin had seemed to be going out of his way to be extra nice to him lately, almost as though he could sense that Carson really needed him now. That was the double-edged sword that Carson was dealing with lately, in addition to Santana and all the drama that came with her. He really did need Kurt. He wanted so many times to explain the whole thing to him and for Kurt to hug him and tell him everything would be fine, but at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder what the pregnancy would mean for their relationship. Whatever the hell that even was anymore. Which only made him want to shove the whole thing even further into secrecy until absolutely necessary.

It was enough to make him want to run away screaming, most days.

Calm down. Just calm down, he reminded himself as he and Kurt entered the lunch line. Getting stressed isn't going to help matters, it's only going to make it worse. You have to suck it up and deal with it as best you can.

He sighed and reached for extra pizza slices, lest he incur the wrath of Santana, as Kurt glanced down at his tray with a curious look.

"Hungry today?" he asked casually.

"Not really," Carson replied quietly, looking down at his own tray and realizing that he hadn't actually grabbed any food for himself.

The next few weeks didn't get much better from there. Despite the advice he had given himself not to get stressed out, Carson felt like the weight of a million responsibilities were fighting to see who would be the one who got to crush the life out of him first, and all of them were tied. He still wasn't getting any sleep, Santana still hadn't made a decision, the time window to make a decision was getting smaller and smaller by the day, and he was still wondering what the fuck he was supposed to do if he was going to be a father. How the hell was he supposed to pay for a baby?

He'd done some mental math, figuring out how much he already had saved and how much he could feasibly earn if he threw himself into dealing a lot of pot for the next eight months, but even at extremely generous estimations, he didn't see how he was going to be able to support a baby for very long, especially because he had no intention of quitting school if he didn't absolutely have to. He guessed that maybe between drugs and an actual job he could manage to barely make it. He would have no choice. Regardless of how he may have felt about its existence yet, the kid needed to be provided for. And he didn't know about Santana's parents, but he knew his own would be about as helpful as balls on a broom handle in that department.

Not to mention, now he would have to try twice as hard to keep his grades up if he had any hope of getting into any sort of university. With all his money possibly going toward the feeding and keeping of a kid instead of school, a scholarship was pretty much his only shot. The very thought of competing for one made his head pound. He knew his grades were good, but were they scholarship good?

And what about Kurt? As if their relationship wasn't fucked up enough, how much more so would it be if Carson had a kid to think about? If there was ever even a chance that he could, someday, have Kurt again for his own (if they could ever get their shit together, that is)…. how would a baby fit into that? What about Santana? Where did she fit in? Would Carson have to live with her for the baby? Commit to her? If so, at what level? Girlfriend level? He didn't even really like her in that way at all. Would she expect him to marry her?

And, perhaps most importantly... how in the actual fuck was he supposed to be a father? He had absolutely zero idea what he was doing. Hell, it felt like enough of a chore just to keep his own head above water most days, let alone guide a child through life. All he really knew for sure was that, if there was to be a kid, he was not going to be the kind of father who communicated with his fists instead of his words. It was really the only thing he was certain of right now, and it gave him little comfort.

At this point, being abducted by aliens for use in questionable experiments seemed like a much better alternative than the future he was facing if Santana chose to keep the kid.

His main source of stress relief these days was popping over to the pharmacy where April worked and striking up conversations with her. Despite the fact that he still thought she was extremely annoying, they had a weird sort of friendship going between the two of them. She really was rather nice once you got over the initial irritation of her incessant talking, and sometimes Carson almost felt bad that the only reason he regularly spoke with her was because she was his ticket to freedom from his father.

And then he remembered that she was stupid enough to have fallen for Neal in the first damn place, and he suddenly felt less bad about it. He'd learned some very interesting things in the process of talking to her these past few weeks. Such as the fact that, whenever Neal wasn't around at home (which was often, nowadays), he was basically living with April in her small flat downtown. The Neal she knew and the Neal that Carson had grown up with were, apparently, two entirely different people. April's Neal did not have children, had never been married, and was, according to her, one of the most romantic men she had ever met. Carson had had to swallow back the vomit when he'd heard that one.

"You know what?" April said one Friday afternoon as Carson walked up to the counter with a bottle of headache pills and a natural sleep aid.

"What?" he asked, trying his best to sound cheerful and not like he had just spent the last twenty-four sleepless hours doing the math to figure out exactly how much a year's worth of diapers would cost (too much, as it turned out).

"I think he's coming around," April said gleefully.

"Huh?" asked Carson.

"My boyfriend," she said, smiling widely from ear to ear. "I think he's seriously considering proposing."

Carson's ears perked up immediately. He forgot all about how exhausted he was as he looked at April and tried to not let on just how interested he was in this news. "Oh, really?" he asked, keeping his voice even. "That... that's great."

And very interesting, considering that he's still married, but whatever. Progress. Rome wasn't built in a day and all that shit.

"I know," April beamed. "And he doesn't even know yet about the baby."

Carson almost choked on his own spit as he looked at her in surprise. "You're...?"

She nodded enthusiastically and pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhhh," she said furtively. "It's still a secret for now. I haven't told anyone yet. It's much too early to know for sure."

Jesus H. Christ, this chick works fast, Carson marveled as he gave her a congratulatory smile. That took a lot less work than I even thought it would.

"I can't even tell you how happy I am for you," he said, grinning as he took his bag and change. "Really. Congratulations."

"Thank you," said April, smiling as she waved goodbye to him on his way out the door. He didn't see any reason to stick around and chat any longer. Not when he'd just received the best news he'd heard in a while. Was it possible that he was finally on his way to being rid of his dad for good?

Oh, Dad. Your life is so fucked. And I feel no sympathy for you.

He'd been given such a lift from the news, in fact, that it hardly even bothered him when he walked through the front door and saw that Sebastian was over, sitting beside Kurt on the sofa as the two of them worked studiously on what appeared to be a homework assignment. Normally, the sight would have filled him with the gnawing jealousy that usually abounded whenever he saw Kurt with other guys, but not today. He decided he'd not dwell on it today.

"Oh, Carson, there you are!" said Kurt, looking up at him and smiling as Carson closed the front door behind him. "I didn't see you after school today. How's Grandma?"

"She's fine," replied Carson. "Same old."

"Santana dropped by looking for you," Kurt continued, his eyes darkening at the mention of Santana's name. "I told her you were out and she got pissed at me."

"Yes, and then she marched into the kitchen, ate an entire bag of crisps, and tried to get me to do her math homework," added Sebastian as he carefully copied something into his notebook. "I told her that I usually only do favors in exchange for sexual ones, and that she didn't have nearly the right equipment for that."

Carson stifled a giggle in spite of himself. "She's a big girl who knows how to use a phone. If she wants me, she can fucking call me."

"She's a big girl, alright," murmured Sebastian. "Getting bigger by the day."

"Anyway," Carson interrupted him pointedly as Kurt looked between them, confused. "I need a break from her this weekend. She's driving me nuts."

"Actually, I was sort of hoping you would agree to come out with us tonight," Kurt said, looking at Carson hopefully. "We heard about this other club across town and wanted to try it for a change of pace, and... well. You've really looked like you need a night out lately," he finished. He looked as if he expected Carson to say no, and Carson didn't blame him. He knew he hadn't exactly been the most pleasant person lately. He didn't know if it was the semi guilt he felt looking into Kurt's eyes, or the fact that he was in a better mood than usual for once, thanks to April's news, or whether he just really needed a night out to drink and forget about the fact that it was looking more and more likely that his life was over in a matter of months.

He suspected that a combination of all three was what made him shrug his shoulders and nod. "Sure. Why the fuck not. I could use a night of getting plastered off my ass."

Besides, he thought as Kurt's face broke out into a relieved grin, Who knows how many more nights out I'll be able to have pretty soon? Kids are kind of bad for that, right? Might as well grasp onto the few straws of freedom I have left while I have them.

By the time the three of them arrived at the door of the club later that night, Carson had managed to talk himself into at least trying to have a good time by telling himself that he deserved this. That he had been stressing out so much, and that one good, solid night of alcohol, if not a pill or two, was what he really needed to take the edge off and focus better. He practically sprinted inside after the bouncer let them in, taking in the sights with wide eyes. This club was certainly a lot different than the ones he and Kurt usually frequented. It was about three times bigger, for one thing. There was even a whole second level, as evidenced by the various balconies that people were looking over the edge of above their heads.

The other major difference took a few minutes to hit him. He sensed that something was off, but couldn't quite put his finger on it until he suddenly realized that every single person he could see inside the building, from the bartenders to the people casually standing around with drinks in their hands, was male. There wasn't one girl to be seen in any direction, and Carson smiled to himself as he turned to look at Kurt and Sebastian.

"This is a gay club!" he exclaimed above the music, a little louder than he intended, and some of the guys nearby turned to stare at him. Kurt's cheeks turned red and Sebastian gave Carson an amused grin.

"Um, yeah, it is," he said. "That's kind of the point. We've never actually been to one together before, so hopefully this one doesn't suck too badly."

Carson barely heard him. He was too busy scoping out the bar as he made his way over to it. Before he did anything else that evening, he definitely wanted to get a few drinks in him. Possibly more than a few. He wanted to make the most out of the night before he had to face the harsh realities of life again in the morning.

"What can I get you, cutie?" asked the bartender, giving him a wink as Carson pulled himself up onto a stool.

"I don't even care. Surprise me," Carson replied.

"You got it," the guy replied. He disappeared from view for a minute and returned with a glass, which he handed to Carson. Carson downed the contents quickly, his throat burning as he signaled for another drink.

"Best just keep them coming," he told the bartender. "I need them."

Keep them coming he did. Carson devoured drink after drink as he gazed out onto the dance floor. Being that the club was three times as big as his usual hangout, it was also three times as crowded. He couldn't even pick out Kurt or Sebastian anywhere within the sea of moving bodies, but he was well on his way to being too drunk to care about that. He didn't need to be glued to their sides all night anyway, did he? Fuck that. He could have fun all on his own.

He stumbled down off his stool after about half an hour, thoroughly sloshed and focused on absolutely nothing but having a good time as he clumsily made his way out onto the dance floor. He didn't really have very good bearings, especially in an unfamiliar layout, and the bodies pressing against him from every angle were a little distracting, but he still felt some sense of exhilaration. There was something thrilling about being drunk off his ass, surrounded by hot guys, and forgetting, at least for the moment, that his opportunities to be so carefree and alive were quickly dwindling with every day that went by with no decision from Santana. Tonight, none of that mattered.

He was jarred out of his reverie by the feeling of hands holding him firmly around the waist, and he swayed into them for a minute before he realized that they weren't Kurt's. They actually belonged to a guy Carson didn't know at all, and he was considering kneeing the stranger in the balls for a moment, but a close inspection of the guy revealed that he was actually pretty good-looking. And, well... it was a gay bar, after all, right? Carson decided to allow the touch for a bit longer, letting the guy press up against him as they rocked in time to the music.

They swayed wordlessly, and shivers went up Carson's spine as the stranger spun him around so that their bodies were touching chest to chest, the guy grinding into him effortlessly.

"You wanna go into the bathroom?" the stranger asked, whispering the question into Carson's ear. Carson looked at him, drunkenly trying to focus his eyes as he took in the guy's appearance from head to toe. He was certainly hot, that was for sure. And, thanks to the alcohol and the grinding, Carson was horny. And Kurt seemed to have disappeared somewhere with Sebastian, and if he could be off having a good time, then why shouldn't Carson get a little something?

Yes, a quick fuck in the bathroom sounded like the best idea in the world right now.

"Lead the way," Carson said, offering his hand, which the guy took with a grin, leading him effortlessly across the dance floor to the back corner of the room, where the door to the men's room was vaguely illuminated by the flashing lights of the club.

"How much?" the guy asked as he pulled Carson into the bathroom, and Carson blinked at him in confusion.

"Huh?" he asked.

"How much? A hundred quid?" the guy asked again.

Carson had absolutely no fucking idea what he was talking about, and quite frankly, he was getting hornier and more impatient by the second. "Whatever," he replied, pulling the guy into a stall and crashing their lips together. "You talk too much," he added, yanking at the stranger's shirt and pulling it up and off. He gasped as the guy took control, pushing him up against the wall and attacking his neck with hard, rough kisses as his hands fumbled with the button of Carson's jeans.

The next twenty minutes were pretty much a drunken, hazy blur as clothes were tugged, yanked, and removed, lube and a condom was produced, and Carson gripped the wall as best he could with his palms while a total stranger grasped his hips and thrust ruthlessly into his body. He let out a loud moan as he came, painting the walls of the bathroom stall with his seed as the guy behind him did the same into the condom and pulled out, reaching immediately for his clothes and letting Carson lose his grip and collapse down onto the floor.

"That was great," the guy said, reaching into his pants pocket and retrieving his wallet. He pulled a few bills out and handed them to Carson, who took them in utter confusion as he tried to regain his breath.

"What.." he started to ask, but the guy was already dressed and leaving the stall before Carson could get the question out.

The fuck just happened? he thought in a haze as he slowly pulled his clothes back on and pocketed the money, too drunk to fully consider the implications of what it meant. He kind of just wanted to find Kurt and ask if they could go home, because all of a sudden he didn't feel too well.

He pushed his way out of the bathroom, looking around and wondering how the hell he was ever going to find Kurt and Sebastian in the huge crowd. He almost started to panic, but the sudden feel of an arm slinging around his shoulder caused almost instant relief. Kurt had found him.

"Carson, where the hell did you go?" asked Kurt, sounding worried and slightly drunk. Carson clung to him, burying his face in Kurt's neck as he breathed in his twin's familiar, comforting scent.

"I think... I might have drank too much," he slurred. "Room's spinning."

"Yeah, so did Sebastian. He's living it up at the bar right now. I think this club kind of sucks. The drugs are cheaper at the usual place," said Kurt. "You look sick, baby. Did you throw up?" he asked, reaching up to brush Carson's hair out of his eyes. Carson nodded, thinking it better to just agree with that than try to explain that he'd just fucked a stranger in a dirty toilet stall.

"Want me to take you home?" asked Kurt. Carson nodded again, letting Kurt lead him through the crowded dance floor.

"Home sounds good right now, yes," said Carson, his hand brushing thoughtfully up against the outline of the bills in his pocket.

Carson must have been a lot more drunk than he realized, because he slept almost straight through the entire next day. He woke up at four in the afternoon in his own bed with no memory of how he got there. He had a feeling that Kurt had put him there, judging by the fact that the covers were pulled around him tightly, as though Kurt had tucked him in.

"Mother hen, that one," Carson murmured to himself as he sat up in bed, thankful for the closed blinds. He didn't need the sun in his eyes right now, not when his head was playing the world's loudest drum solo to punish him for his drinking the night before. He felt grungy, which he attributed to having fallen asleep in his clothes from the night before with the taste of rotten alcohol on his tongue. His ass was also strangely sore, which was weird because it almost felt like...

Oh GOD, he thought in horror as the events of the previous night flooded his memory with fuzzy clarity. He'd been so drunk he could barely remember his own name, but he did know for sure that he had gone with a strange guy into the bathroom, and... and there had been money exchanged...

Oh fuck, what did I DO last night? he wondered, reaching into his pocket and retrieving the bills that the stranger had shoved at him after the sex was finished. Did I... did I sell myself last night? Is that what happened? How the fuck...

He wracked his brain, trying to figure out how the fuck this had even happened. He vaguely remembered the guy asking him something right before they started having sex, and that he had been entirely too drunk to pay attention to what it was. Had he been asking him how much he cost? Carson suddenly felt very, very filthy. He practically leaped out of bed, running into the bathroom and ripping off his clothes as he hopped into the shower as fast as possible. He turned the water on as hot as he could stand it and stood underneath it for a half hour, letting it run over him and cleanse him of everything about last night.

I'm a whore, he thought to himself as he stood under the scalding water. Like... literally. This is as rock bottom as it gets. I've actually sold my body for money. Jesus Christ, I need to get a hold of my life.

Then again, it could have been worse, he reasoned with himself, trying to make himself feel less dirty. At least the guy was hot, and I made an easy hundred quid.

Wait a second.

I made a hundred quid. For twenty minutes of work. Well, ok, I didn't realize it was work at the time, but whatever. Technicalities. That was pretty easy money.

The wheels started turning in his head as he thoughtfully turned the shower off and reached for a towel. He wrapped it around his waist and stepped out into the bathroom, wiping steam off the mirror with his hand and taking a good, critical look at himself. Honestly, he didn't see anything special. Just an average boy with an average body, not even any abs to speak of, and way too many freckles. He didn't understand how anyone could possibly mistake him for a prostitute. Maybe if he had a body more like Kurt's.

Well, regardless of what he thought, clearly someone had thought he was a hooker, and had been willing to shell out a decent amount of cash for him. Carson wondered, if he hadn't been so drunk, and if he actually was the sort of person who exchanged sex for money... he wondered how much he could possibly have made if he'd had the capacity to negotiate.

For instance... could he maybe have made enough to put away a decent nest egg? Something which an expectant parent with a baby on the way desperately needed in a short amount of time?

The thought of actually willingly putting himself out there... marking himself as for sale and letting guys do what they wanted for a price... the very thought kind of made him ill, but that feeling was very much overshadowed by the thought of the kind of money he could be making if he just got over that. If he was going to be a father, which seemed more and more likely every day, he was going to need money. A lot of money. He really, really didn't want his child starting life without absolutely everything it needed. What kind of father would he be if he gave up an opportunity to provide for his kid just because he found it a little degrading? Besides, he wanted to be able to afford university too, didn't he? What if he couldn't get a scholarship? Then what? He would need money from somewhere.

And it wouldn't have to be forever. Not really.

Kurt will hate you if he ever finds out. He'll never want you then.

On the other hand, he doesn't even want you NOW. You might as well do what's best for yourself.

Obviously, he would need to go back to that club alone, on a night where he had no chance of being caught by anyone he knew, least of all Kurt. Preferably that very night, since it was highly likely that Kurt was over at Sebastian's house for movie night in the screening room. No chance of being caught.

And he would need to keep himself sober, he knew, although he didn't know if he could actually go through with it without liquid courage running through his veins.

You'd have to, though. You need to be sober for this and make sure you're not getting fucked over. Well... figuratively fucked over, that is... well, fuck, you know what you mean.

He swallowed and picked up his dirty clothes on his way back into his bedroom. He tossed them on the floor and surveyed his closet, wondering just what a professional hooker even wore to a club. He decided that maybe it didn't matter, because he had only been wearing a T-shirt and jeans the night before.

I can't believe it's actually come to this, he thought with a heavy sigh as he got himself dressed and prepared to go out. And I can't believe I'm actually doing this. Who the hell is ever going to want me, anyway?

Please don't ever let Kurt find out about this, he pleaded silently to no one in particular later that night as he knelt on his knees on the dirty men's room floor. He had thought he would have a hard time attracting any more customers, that maybe the guy last night had just been a fluke, but no. Apparently, that particular club was the unofficial gathering place for men of ill repute and their potential clients to meet up. He'd found an eager partner within fifteen minutes and had quickly found himself on his knees, trying to think happy thoughts as a guy he didn't even know thrust in and out of his mouth. He did his best to remove himself mentally from the situation, until it was over and the guy was zipping up his pants and pressing money into Carson's hand.

That was it. Ten minutes of work, and it was over and Carson was fifty quid richer, if a bit on the verge of tears as he rinsed his mouth out at the sink. He repeated the process twice more before he left for the evening, not sure he had it in him to do one more, although he did have to admit, it sort of got easier every time he did it.

He patted his full pocket as he left the club, not feeling particularly proud of himself but at least feeling happy that he'd made a decent amount of money for his kid. He paused on the street outside a toy store, hesitating a moment before pulling the door open and stepping inside. He was the only customer in the store at that time of night, which earned him an interested look from the girl behind the counter, but he ignored her. His eyes wandered to a display of teddy bears in assorted colors, all of them looking soft and deliriously happy with their sewn-on little smiles. He let his fingers graze over a pink bear and a blue one before he realized that he had no idea if the baby was a girl or a boy. He really was drawn to the blue one, though. It looked happier than the rest, somehow. Like it had been waiting its entire teddy bear life for Carson to walk in and purchase it.

Well. I really hope he or she likes blue as much as I do, Carson thought to himself as he carefully picked up the blue bear and carried it over to the register.

Kurt was worried.

It wasn't like he hadn't done his fair share of worrying about Carson before now, of course. His twin had periods of acting weird and distant constantly, but this... this was different. Kurt could almost feel it in his bones. Something just was not right. It had really gotten hard to brush off, especially because Kurt could tell that Carson was trying his best to pretend that everything was absolutely fine. He wasn't being bitchy, he wasn't snapping at Kurt, he wasn't doing any of the things he normally did when he was in one of his moods, he was just... existing around him. Honestly, the lack of snark from Carson was much more worrying than when there was too much snark. Not to mention the weirdness surrounding Santana whenever she was around, as if she were privy to the secret while Kurt wasn't.

By now, Kurt knew perfectly well that confronting Carson about it would yield absolutely no results. When Carson had secrets, he was determined to keep them, and wild horses couldn't drag them out of him. So Kurt had settled lately for watching and worrying, looking for any way he could to make his twin's life easier. He made extra efforts to be nice to him, toned down his behavior around Sebastian where Carson could see, stayed up late in his room waiting for Carson to come home safely from one of his many, many late nights out, and generally prayed to whatever force might have been listening that whatever was up with Carson would pass quickly.

I just want my brother back. Please? I won't even be greedy and ask for him back as a lover, but... can I just have my big brother back the way he used to be? I swear, I'll never wish for anything ever again.

If he ever needed proof that there was no God, it was presented to him in the form of his pleads going unheeded.

How the hell did it ever come to this? he wondered to himself one Sunday afternoon in late April as he kicked around town, staying as far away from the house as possible while his mother rushed around the kitchen like a madwoman, doing her best to cook a meal for eight people. Four of their relatives on Sheryl's side had called the day before and surprised them with the news that they were in town and would be popping by for a visit. Kurt could sense trouble as soon as he'd woken up to the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen and his mother swearing loudly at regular intervals, good enough warnings to get out of the house as soon as possible. He had learned it was best to not be around when she was trying to cook for guests.

Dad's meant to come home from his business trip today, anyway, he reasoned. Just in time for the dinner. He can help her.

Carson must have sensed the danger signs earlier in the morning, because he was already gone. Kurt was left to wander town by himself, wondering what to do to amuse himself for a few hours before he would be expected back at home. He found himself headed in the direction of his grandmother's home, almost as if he were drawn to it, although he didn't quite know why. Generally, he didn't usually visit Grandma by himself. He felt weird doing it, like he didn't know how to relate to her anymore now that she was sick. Carson was so much better than him at that sort of thing. Maybe he was hoping that he would find Carson there.

Nevertheless, he found himself arriving at the building and heading inside, straight for Grandma's room. He peeked inside cautiously, wondering if she would be having one of her legendary bad days. He had heard enough stories from Carson about being thrown out like a stranger to be more than a little worried.

To his relief, she smiled when she noticed him, waving him inside.

"Hello," she greeted him.

"Um... hi," said Kurt awkwardly, taking a seat in a nearby chair.

"Do I know you?" Grandma asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.

Kurt bit his lip to keep from crying at those words. "No," he answered truthfully. "I'm just... just here for a visit."

"You remind me of my grandson," she replied after a moment, considering Kurt carefully. "Well.. my grandsons. They're twins, you know."

Kurt smiled and nodded. "That's nice."

Grandma nodded, looking proud. "Handsome boys, both of them. They'll break hearts when they're older, I think."

Yes, they will. Each other's, specifically.

"They don't come visit me anymore, though," she continued sadly. "I miss them. Especially Carson. Don't misunderstand, I love both my boys very much, but Carson... he's a special one. He's had so little love in his life, and he deserves it the most. He has so much of it to give, if his parents would only let him. His brother doesn't know how lucky he is, being the one their parents seem to adore."

Kurt began losing his battle with his tears, feeling them well up in his eyes as he took in his grandmother's words. He didn't say anything in response, but Grandma didn't seem to notice, continuing to speak as if Kurt weren't there.

"I'm just thankful that he has me, and that he has Kurt. Oh, I don't know what that boy would do without his brother. You can just tell that he thinks Kurt hung the moon, and Kurt thinks the same about him. You never saw two closer little boys than those two. I really think that if Carson didn't have Kurt, he would just give up on everything."

Kurt choked back a sob, getting up from his chair and hurrying out of the room and out of the building. He leaned up against the brick wall and took several deep, shuddering breaths as he dried his tears.

I'm trying, Grandma. I know I've fucked up, but I'm trying to be there for him. If only he would let me.

He hung around town for a while, popping in and out of stores until it got late and he figured that he had better head back home before his mother gave him hell. By the time he arrived, his aunts and uncles had already arrived and were seated in the living room as they waited for lunch to be ready. The tension radiating off of Carson as he sat (by force, it seemed like) between Neal and one of the boys' aunts was palpable, and Kurt felt sorry for him, which turned to shock and irritation as he noticed that Santana was there too, looking just as uncomfortable as Carson. Not one person was speaking, and Kurt looked around awkwardly.

"Uuuh... hi, everyone," he said.

"Ohhhh, look at you!" squealed his Aunt Jackie, getting up from where she had been sitting beside Santana and rushing over to pinch Kurt's cheeks and give him a hug. "You've grown! Hasn't he grown, Jason?" she asked her husband.

"He's grown," Uncle Jason agreed.

"Dinner's ready, everyone!" called Sheryl from the dining room, not a moment too soon. Everyone got up and started filing out of the living room as Kurt hung back, bringing up the rear with Carson and Santana.

"What's she doing here?" he asked Carson in a hushed whisper.

"I popped by to borrow Carson's chemistry notes and stepped right into the middle of the fucking Walton family reunion," Santana replied irritably. "Your mom made me stay and introduced me as Carson's girlfriend."

"Fuck's sake," Kurt murmured as they all took their seats around the dining room table.

Thankfully, dinner was a fairly quiet affair. Almost. Kurt could tell that Carson was getting more than a little fed up every time their father threw a disparaging remark his way, and that he would probably lose his shit soon if it kept up.

Which it certainly did.

"Oh, we don't hold out much hope for this one," Neal said, giving Carson a small punch on the arm as he answered Uncle Jason's question about what the boys were up to. "We'll be lucky if we ever get rid of him, if a university will take him."

"Actually, I-" Carson began, but he was cut off my their father's continued yammering.

"We always knew Kurt would be our little superstar who would get far in the world. Thank god for him, right?" Neal said with a laugh as everyone else around the table looked uncomfortable.

"Actually, despite the upbringing he's had, I think he's done pretty well for himself," muttered Santana, causing everyone to stop eating and look at her in astonishment. All except Carson. Kurt watched in apprehension as his twin very calmly put down his fork and stood up from his seat, taking a good look around the table.

"I'd like to say something," he said, his voice low and dangerous, and Kurt felt a knot forming in his stomach as he realized that this was it. Carson's shit had officially been lost.

"I would just like to announce, for anyone who's curious about me and my life right now, that I'm almost seventeen years old, I get nearly perfect grades, I started a Writer's Club at school that... maybe isn't so successful at the moment, but we're getting there, oh, and I'm not ashamed to admit to any of you here that I've had sexual relations with my own brother. And we both enjoyed it. A lot."

The silence that reigned at the table was almost deafening. Kurt could feel his face heating up and his heart pounding in his ears as every relative finished absorbing Carson's words and turned to look at him instead. He wanted to die, or at least be swallowed up by the floor, and just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, they did.

"Oh, and this girl sitting over there?" Carson added, pointing to Santana merrily with his fork. "She's pregnant. With my baby. So, I guess maybe I am the fuck up that my parents always groomed me to be. Happy fucking Easter, or whatever holiday it is." He sat back down and calmly placed a forkful of potatoes in his mouth as everyone else just sat in stunned silence. Kurt most of all.

Pregnant?

PREGNANT?

Oh god... oh no... no no no no no no... NO...

NO, FUCK THAT, she can't be! She... what about his plans? This is a joke, right?

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it wasn't a joke at all. Suddenly, everything made perfect sense. Santana's moodiness and increased bitchiness. Her weight gain. Carson telling her not to drink. It all became so crystal clear in Kurt's mind, and he felt like a total idiot for not realizing it before.

And he was angry. So a pregnancy was why Carson had been acting so weird lately. Of course, it all added up. Why the fuck didn't he feel like he could come to Kurt about it? Was their relationship so damaged that he didn't trust Kurt with secrets anymore? That hurt. That really fucking hurt.

And how was a baby going to fit into their relationship, such as it was? How the hell could anything ever be normal again? He was so blindsided and angry about this news that he forgot to be humiliated at the fact that everyone at the table now knew he and Carson had fucked.

Sheryl, strangely, was the first one to break the stunned silence. "A baby?" she said, sounding almost... happy about it. What the actual fuck, mom? Out of all the things Carson has ever done that you should have been happy about, this is not one of them!

"A baby?" spoke up Neal, letting out a mean-spirited scoff. "Wow. Just... wow."

"This is surprising to you?" asked Carson, irritation evident in his voice.

"Didn't think you, of all people, had it in you," Neal replied. "Didn't really think you'd ever be man enough for that, but apparently I was wrong. I have to say, I feel sorry for your kid, though. Stuck with you for its father. Kid won't stand a chance."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," retorted Carson angrily. "For someone who had you as a father, I turned out pretty well."

"Don't you talk back to me," barked Neal.

"For what it's worth, I don't even know what the hell I'm doing about this thing," Santana interjected.

"For fuck's sake, Santana, are you ever going to decide?" asked Carson as their relatives shrank back in their seats. "It would be really, super nice to know whether you even plan on keeping the kid before I go making adjusted plans for it."

"Why would I want to bring a kid into this dysfunctional hot mess?" shrieked Santana. "For god's sake, you fucked your own brother! And your father is a complete asshole, so god only knows what kind of father you would be!"

Carson actually looked hurt at this, giving Santana a wounded look as he crumpled his napkin in his hands. "That's not fair. I'm earning money for the baby. We'd have enough for a flat and everything that we really need."

"A flat?" Kurt and Sheryl exclaimed at the same time.

"You're going to move out?" Kurt asked quietly, holding back tears. "But.."

"You can't move out, you're only 16!" said Sheryl forcefully. "Where are you going to find a flat you can afford on teenage wages?"

"I have ways, Mom, don't worry," muttered Carson.

"She's right, Carson, how the fuck are we going to afford a flat and a baby?" asked Santana.

"Ok, you know what, fuck it. Fuck all of you!" exclaimed Carson, getting up from the table and rushing out of the room and up the stairs, where the sound of his bedroom door slamming echoed throughout the house seconds later.

"I'm getting out of this horror house," announced Santana, getting up out of her own seat and making her way quickly toward the living room. Everyone left at the table just sat in silence for a moment until Neal broke it.

"Well, since we're all making announcements, I have one too. I'm moving out," he said. "I'll come back for my things next week."

Kurt watched his mother's face grow curiously blank as their relatives quietly began making their excuses and leaving the table. Only Kurt and Sheryl remained, and Kurt didn't know how she was feeling, but he was feeling like absolute shit. In the course of one afternoon... twenty minutes, even... his entire life and everything he had ever known had changed. Forever. And not for the better. And only one thought made itself clear in the jumbled mess that was his mind.

Carson started all of this.

He couldn't take it anymore. He snapped. He pushed his chair back and got up, marching as quickly as possible up the stairs and down the hall to Carson's closed bedroom door. He didn't even bother knocking, just barged right in and stood against the wall, arms crossed as he glared at Carson. His twin was curled up on his bed with his back to him, his arms wrapped around a pillow and clinging for dear life.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he barked. "How could you keep something like this from me? From me? I'm the one you used to tell everything to, and you couldn't trust me with this? And what does this mean for us? What, are you going to fucking marry Santana now? Is that it? What about me? What about us? A baby is going to royally fuck up everything we ever had!"

Carson said nothing in reply. He didn't even acknowledge Kurt, but Kurt could hear the faint sound of sniffling coming from the bed. He stopped yelling and watched as Carson's shoulders began to shake, slightly at first and then more pronounced until it was extremely obvious that he was crying. Not just crying, but crying as if his very soul hurt. Kurt had so much more that he wanted to say to Carson. So much more that he wanted to yell and scream about and ask Why? and How the fuck could you do that? and How could you be so stupid?

But he couldn't do it. He just couldn't bring himself to yell at Carson anymore, not when Carson was laying there looking as vulnerable as Kurt had ever seen him. His twin rarely ever let Kurt see him cry, and it only happened on rare and particularly painful circumstances. Kurt's heart filled with sadness for him, and he found himself sighing and crossing over to the bed, climbing onto it and pulling Carson into his arms.

He met no resistance at all. Carson allowed himself to be held, Kurt's arms holding him tightly as his head lolled against Kurt's chest and he sobbed. He sobbed so hard that Kurt could almost feel his windpipe constricting with every breath, and he could definitely feel the tears falling on his hands.

"Shhh," he whispered soothingly. "Shhh, it's ok. It'll be ok."

"I'm so scared, Kurt," Carson whispered through hiccups and tears. "I'm so f-fucking scared."

"Shhh, I know," soothed Kurt, stroking his hair. "I've got you. Everything's going to be ok, Carsey. I promise. I'm here for you. I love you. Ok?"

Carson just sagged against him, sobbing quietly as Kurt rocked and stroked and tried his best to be soothing.

"It's ok," he kept repeating, desperately wanting to believe his own words. "It's ok."

I'm pissed at you beyond belief, but I love you and I'll stand by you no matter what.