"Kurtsie? Why are you crying, baby?"

Kurt didn't dare to believe his ears at first. With his track record of bad luck, he thought that surely he had been hearing things. That he wanted to hear Carson's voice so badly that his mind had tricked him into believing that he had heard it. Which was why he didn't even look up right away, instead closing his eyes and trying to mentally shake himself back to reality. It wasn't him. If I look up, he's still going to be unconscious and if I let myself believe that was him, then it will hurt like hell when I see that it wasn't. Just keep your eyes closed, Kurt, and you'll be fine.

"Kurtsie?" came Carson's voice again, and Kurt felt a hand reach out and weakly stroke his face. Or try to, anyway. It actually missed his face and was stroking his ear, but that didn't matter. What did matter was that it definitely wasn't Kurt's own hand, nor could it be anyone else's except...

His heart started hammering in his chest, so fast that Kurt thought his heartbeat could probably be heard around the world at the moment. He swallowed the quickly forming lump in his throat and allowed himself to look up. Carson was staring at him with a confused expression on his face, his eyes squinting as they adjusted and his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.

"What's wrong, baby? I'm here, Kurtsie. Please don't cry," he said in a weak whisper, and Kurt only had to look at him for three seconds before he lost any sense of composure.

"Carson," he whispered, reaching a hand up to gently grasp the one touching his face. The fingers twitched under his touch and Carson blinked at him. "Carson," he repeated, a little louder this time, and he quickly stood up from his chair and wrapped his arms around his twin, holding him as tightly as he dared and trying to be mindful of all the tubes and wires. The whole world came crashing down around him and all he could focus on was the fact that he was holding Carson, and Carson was alive, and he was speaking, and oh god, he was never going to let him go again.

"Carson, baby, oh my god," he said, sobbing into his twin's shoulder as he felt Carson weakly hug him back. He didn't think it would be possible to cry harder than he had right after Carson's accident, but apparently it was, because the tears were flowing and they weren't about to stop any time soon. "Carson," he whispered as he lifted his head and began peppering Carson's face with tiny kisses. "Carsey, my baby. I was so worried I'd lost you."

Carson frowned and blinked at him. "Lost me?" He slowly turned his head, his eyes roaming around the room and his frown growing bigger as he took in his surroundings, looking extremely confused. "Kurt...where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, sweetheart," answered Kurt gently as he reached one hand up to stroke Carson's hair. "You...um...you had a little accident, but you're going to be ok, and..."

"An accident?" Carson interrupted, looking very worried indeed as his eyes widened and he looked at Kurt in alarm. "What kind of accident? Car accident? Oh god, were you with me? Were you ok? Were you hurt?" He reached one hand out, clearly trying to stroke Kurt's arm but only succeeding in flailingly batting at it. Kurt took his hand and stroked it softly, placing a kiss on it before he wrapped Carson back into his embrace.

"No, baby. Not a car accident. You...you don't remember what happened?" he asked, Dr. Banks' warning of temporary amnesia flashing through his brain as he spoke. Oh god, I wonder what else he doesn't remember if he doesn't remember the lightning strike. Does...does he remember US?

Carson shook his head. "No..." he said slowly, frowning as he tried to think. "I...the last thing I remember was...ugh...I don't know...I can't think...it hurts..."

"Shhh, Carsey, don't worry about it," Kurt soothed as he held him close. "Don't worry about it, baby. You're ok now. You're going to be ok. I'm going to take such good care of you, and it's all going to be fine. You'll see."

"Hey, kid, I just got off the phone with Finn," said Burt as he strolled into the room, shoving his cell phone into the pocket of his jeans. "He said to say..." He trailed off as his eyes landed on the twins and he took in the sight before him, Carson awake and Kurt clinging to him as though both of their lives depended on it. He froze where he was, blinking at them for a minute and apparently forgetting all about what Finn had said. Kurt smiled at him.

"Dad, look," he said, giving Carson a gentle squeeze. "Look," he repeated, tears of joy flowing from his eyes that he wasn't even going to try to wipe away, because that would involve letting go of Carson, and that certainly wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"Carson?" their father said softly, taking a few steps closer to the bed.

"Hi, Dad," replied Carson, giving him a weak smile, and that was all it took to spur Burt into action. He crossed over to the bed quickly, looking at the boys with eyes brimming with tears before leaning down and wrapping the both of them up into a firm but gentle hug. "I knew it, buddy," he said excitedly. "I knew it. I knew you would come back to us. I knew as long as your brother was here, you wouldn't be going anywhere." Kurt felt himself choke up more at those words, thinking sadly that he had no idea what Carson did or did not remember regarding their romantic relationship. Not that he was going to push it right now. No, he was lucky that he had Carson living and breathing in his arms right now, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that his twin felt like the most loved, cherished, and spoiled guy on the face of the earth.

"I hurt," Carson mumbled in a small, strained voice, and Burt let go of the twins, looking at Carson with deep concern.

"Duh, what's wrong with us?" he said, shaking his head. "You need the doctor...I'll be right back, kid...don't go anywhere, ok?"

"Where am I going to go?" asked Carson, and Kurt couldn't help but smile a little at the slight edge of irritation in his voice. That sounded like the Carson he knew and loved. Burt ignored it and hurried out of the room in search of a doctor, leaving the twins alone. Carson looked up at Kurt, his eyes clouded over with confusion.

"What happened to me, Kurtsie?" he asked quietly, wincing as he shifted a little in his bed. "Ow, why does it hurt so much?" Kurt felt a stabbing pain in his heart at the thought of what Carson must be feeling right now, waking up in a strange hospital with no memory of how he got there. My poor baby must be so scared.

"You, um..." Kurt began, wondering how best to phrase his answer. He didn't want to freak Carson out too badly. "You were outside, and...and you got hit by lightning, honey," he finished, hating himself for saying it when he saw Carson's eyes widening in horror.

"What?" he asked in disbelief. He tried to sit up a little, but his face contorted in pain and he quickly lay back against his pillow, looking miserable. "Oh god, Kurt, it hurts."

"Oh, baby," Kurt said sympathetically, squeezing his hand and stroking at his hair. "I know, Carsey. It's the burns. They aren't quite healed yet."

"Mmmph," Carson whimpered. "My head hurts, too. What the fuck was I doing outside in a goddamn storm, anyway?"

Kurt froze, wondering how in the hell he was supposed to answer that question. The very last thing he wanted to do was bring up Blaine and all the other bullshit that had happened that night before Carson left. Oh god, what do I say? I don't want to lie to him, but I don't really want him to remember why he was outside if he doesn't already. You're better off not knowing, honey, trust me...

Fortunately, he didn't have to come up with an answer for Carson right then, because Burt burst back into the room, a nurse and Dr. Banks following him and closing the door behind them.

"Hi, Carson," the doctor said brightly as the nurse started checking the various monitors that Carson was attached to. "I'm Dr. Banks. You've had quite a week, haven't you?"

"A week? I've been in here for a fucking week?" asked Carson. "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to me?"

"Carson," Burt admonished him. Carson scowled.

"Oh, no, don't worry about that," said Dr. Banks with a smile. "After what he's been through, irritability is to be expected. It's quite common after lightning injuries, particularly when there's head trauma involved."

"Head trauma?" Carson asked, sounding a little scared. Kurt squeezed his hand in an attempt to be comforting.

Dr. Banks nodded. "I'm afraid so, son. Do you remember what happened to you?"

Carson shook his head. "No," he whined as the nurse began setting him up with a new IV of what Kurt assumed must be pain medication, because Carson's face suddenly got a bit more relaxed and the tense grip he had on Kurt's hand lightened up some. "I mean, yes, I know it was lightning, but I...I don't..."

"But you don't remember the incident itself?" Dr. Banks prodded him. Carson shook his head. "Well, Carson, a little temporary amnesia also isn't uncommon with injuries like yours. Frankly, I'll expect you to experience a little memory loss, especially right now as your body adjusts to being out of the coma and begins the healing process. Most of the time it comes back, other times....well. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Can you tell me the last thing you do remember?"

Kurt looked at Carson and held his breath, waiting eagerly for his twin's answer. He had to know if Carson remembered their romance. Carson, baby, just give me a sign, anything. Anything to let me know that you remember us. Please. He thought he saw Carson's cheeks grow slightly pink at the question, and his stomach twisted in a knot as he waited for Carson to reply.

"I, um...I...I..." Carson stammered, looking more and more flustered by the second as he looked quickly over to Kurt and then back at Dr. Banks and Burt. "I...I guess the last thing I remember is...is going to sleep on the night Trollberry left to go see her hooker. Sleeping in...in Kurt's room," he finished.

"Trollberry?" asked Dr. Banks, confused. Kurt's heart practically leaped into his throat.

"My roommate, Rachel," Kurt replied, his heart hammering as he realized what Carson had just said without actually saying it. "He...the last thing he remembers is the night before the accident." The night we made love for the first time. He remembers. He remembers. HE REMEMBERS. Oh god! Carsey, baby, I love you so much, and you REMEMBER, and...and...

Dr. Banks shrugged. "Ok, then...it would appear that your memory won't be so severely affected. That's good. That's a very good sign."

"My head hurts," Carson complained, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at him. Dr. Banks seemed to take it in stride.

"It will, for awhile," he replied with a sympathetic smile. "That IV you're attached to has medication in it for the pain, both from the headaches and the burns you sustained on your upper body from the lightning. It will take a little bit, but it will kick in fully soon. It'll make you a little loopy, though."

"Want it to kick in now," Carson said with a whimper. "This fucking sucks!"

Dr. Banks, to his credit, never allowed his smile to waver. "Tell you what," he said, noting something on Carson's chart and clipping it back to the foot of the bed. "How about I give you some time to be with your father and your brother, and then I'll come back a little later and we'll check on you then. Ok? Sound good?"

Carson nodded, his grip on Kurt's hand getting a little bit tighter.

"Ok, then," said Dr. Banks. "If anyone needs me, have me paged, ok?" All three Hummels nodded, and Dr. Banks and the nurse exited the room, leaving them alone.

"I'm tired," Carson said as soon as the doctor left. "My head hurts and I want to go home."

"I know, kid," said Burt as he stood on the other side of Carson's bed and took his other hand. "But you have a long recovery ahead of you. You'll get through it, though. You will. Me and your brother will be here for you every step of the way, and you'll absolutely get through this."

"I'm not going anywhere," Kurt reassured Carson, bringing his hand up to kiss it. "Never. I won't leave your side, Carsey. Ok?"

Carson nodded, frowning a little as a wave of pain must have passed through him. "Um, Dad?" he said, turning to Burt. "Could...could you give me and Kurt a minute?" Burt smiled sadly and nodded, patting Carson's hand affectionately and glancing from one twin to the other.

"Sure, kid. Take all the time you need. I'll be around. I'll go call Carole and fill her in on what's happening, alright?" Carson nodded and Kurt smiled. "Come get me if you need me," he added.

"Ok," agreed Carson. "I love you, Dad."

Burt looked just a little choked up as he smiled down at Carson. "I love you too, kid." He quickly left the room, and Carson and Kurt were left alone, Kurt's mind racing with a billion different thoughts as he tried to process the fact that Carson still knew. That he remembered being with him, and that all was not as lost as it had appeared to be just one week ago. He felt fresh tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, and Carson's thumb clumsily stroking at his hand.

"Kurtsie, it's ok," he said slowly. "It's ok, baby. Please don't cry. I...I hate to see you cry."

"I know," said Kurt with a sniff. "It's just...oh, Carson, I was so scared that...that you wouldn't remember...that you would forget our whole relationship, and I just...I didn't know how I was going to deal with that, and..."

"Shhh," said Carson, making grabby hands until Kurt leaned down and hugged him, wondering if there was any better feeling in the world than Carson's warm body under his touch. Any better sound than the sound of him breathing. He wondered if it was possible to stay forever with his arms around him, and if not, then it should be, damn it.

"I love you so much, Carsey," he whispered, burying his face in Carson's neck. "I didn't want to lose you. Not yet. Not for a long time. Not ever."

"I know," Carson replied slowly, his voice starting to slur from the effects of the drugs. "I...oh my god, I forgot to tell you, Kurtsie...I saw Mom."

"Hmm?" asked Kurt, still wrapped up in the feeling of hugging Carson close.

"I saw Mom. She talked to me...she said...um..." Carson let out a sigh and groaned. "Fuck, I don't remember what she said." The drugs must have finally been kicking in, Kurt decided. Good. He hated to see Carson in any pain.

"Shhh, Carsey, it's ok," he said soothingly. "You don't have to talk. Just relax."

"I...I'm gonna close my eyes now," slurred Carson. "But I'm not...I'm not dead or in a coma or nothing, ok? I'm just...just so tired, Kurtsie."

"It's alright, Carsey," Kurt whispered. "You go to sleep, honey, ok? I'll be right here. I won't leave you."

"Lay with me?" asked Carson softly, and Kurt swallowed down the lump forming in his throat as he nodded.

"Sure," he croaked. "Of course I will, baby." He removed his shoes and carefully climbed into the bed with Carson, placing his arms around him and holding him gently. Carson settled his head against Kurt's chest and sighed sleepily.

"You're so soft, Kurtsie," he murmured as he nuzzled his face into the fabric of Kurt's shirt. "So soft." Kurt let out a strangled giggle at how good it felt to hear Carson say things like that again, and he placed a gentle, tender kiss to his twin's forehead.

"Go to sleep, Carsey," he whispered. "I've got you now. I won't let you go again." I mean it. I won't. You're the most precious thing in my life, and I'm going to treat you as such from now on, baby. I promise. I love you.

Waking up out of a coma was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the weirdest fucking experience of Carson's entire life, and that included falling in love and starting a relationship with his own twin brother. He had absolutely zero memory of the lightning strike that everybody said was the cause of said coma. Zilch. None. He couldn't even remember being outside on the day it happened. All he remembered was the wonderful, fantastic night that Rachel had left for her stupid NYADA thing. He vividly remembered Kurt making love to him, and how much deeper in love with him he had fallen. He remembered answering the phone call from Blaine and telling him to fuck off, and how fucking good that felt after so many years of standing back and taking his bullshit. And then he remembered himself and Kurt falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards, nobody in the world but the two of them.

Beyond that, though, his memory was a big, foggy haze. There was nothing there, no matter how hard he tried to remember. He apparently had lost an entire day of his life. An entire day of his life with Kurt, to be more specific. He hated knowing this. Hated knowing that he had probably lost a lot of memories of Kurt being adorable, of them kissing, of them in general being a happy couple in love.

Maybe that was a good thing, though. He wasn't sure he really wanted to remember being struck by that goddamn lightning bolt. It had probably hurt like a bitch, if the slowly healing burns he was now sporting all over his upper body were any indication. They were painful as fuck, the intense headaches he was constantly getting as he recovered from his head injury were even worse, and the meds that the hospital had him on didn't really do much for either problem other than numb them a little.

And if he wasn't in blinding pain, then he was numb as shit. He had episodes where he couldn't feel his hands, or they would tingle, and he wasn't sure which was worse, that or the pain. He didn't want Kurt worrying about him any more than necessary, though, so usually he tried to pretend that he was perfectly ok and that the meds were working fine, even if they weren't. It was bad enough that he spent most of the time feeling and acting like a drunk toddler in front of him, what with his shitty coordination skills. Dr. Banks had said that a loss of motor skills was normal after the injuries he had sustained, both from the lightning strike and the head trauma, and that time and physical therapy would return him to normal eventually. That didn't really do a whole lot to comfort Carson as he struggled to even do the simplest things, like feeding himself, and failed miserably. It was embarrassing, having Kurt see him like that.

"Carson," Kurt had said gently as he sat in a chair and watched Carson attempt to eat his first solid meal since he'd woken up from the coma. "Um...maybe you'd like a little help?"

"No," said Carson, trying his hardest to keep any irritation out of his voice when addressing Kurt. He wasn't going to let his unfortunate injuries turn him into an asshole to the man he loved. Fuck that. "I can feed myself." He dipped his plastic spoon into the little tub of applesauce on his tray and tried getting it to his mouth without spilling any of it. He used all the strength he could muster up (which, admittedly, wasn't much), but unfortunately both the spoon and the applesauce ended up landing right on the front of his hospital gown. He just couldn't hold his hand steady enough to get the fucking thing to his mouth. He bit his lip in frustration and tried not to cry. Both Kurt and their father were watching him, and damn it, he wasn't going to break in front of them. It wasn't easy, especially since Kurt got up immediately and removed the spoon, dabbing at the spilled applesauce on Carson's chest with the corner of a paper napkin.

"It's ok, Carsey," he said soothingly as he finished cleaning him up. "These things are going to happen until you get better, baby. It's normal." He moved his chair closer to Carson's bed and took the applesauce tub in his hand, dipping the spoon inside and holding it up to Carson's mouth as though he were feeding a baby. "Here, I'll help you."

Carson frowned. "I'm not very hungry anymore," he mumbled miserably, which wasn't exactly true. Kurt looked at him and sighed.

"You've got to eat, Carsey," he protested. "You have to get your stomach used to solid food again after being on the feeding tube, and besides, you're going to need your strength to get better."

"I don't wanna," Carson whined, more embarrassed than ever. He didn't need Kurt to feed him. Kurt shouldn't have to feed him. He should be able to feed himself, and he absolutely hated everything at the moment. The lightning, the hospital, the stupid gown he was wearing, the tray of food, the floor, the sheets...

"Kurt's right, kid," spoke up Burt from his chair across the room. "Your stomach will be all kinds of screwed up from that feeding tube until you get back on regular food."

"See?" said Kurt. "Honey, I know you hate not being able to feed yourself, but it's just something you have to deal with until you're better. I love you, and I'm going to be here to help you every step of the way while you recover. If that means feeding you until you can do it yourself, then that's what I'll do." He looked like he wanted to say more, but a quick glance into his eyes told Carson that he wasn't going to say it, probably because it wasn't something that could be uttered in their father's presence without them getting very strange looks indeed. Carson sighed.

"I hate this," he groaned, frowning at the spoon in Kurt's hand.

"I know, Carsey," said Kurt, giving him a sympathetic smile. "But just a couple of bites? Hmm? For me?" He stuck out his bottom lip in the pout that Carson knew only too well. The pout he had been powerless to resist all his life and was even more powerless to resist now.

"Fine," he relented with a huge sigh. "Only for you." He grudgingly opened his mouth and allowed Kurt to gently stick the spoonful of applesauce into it. "This stuff tastes like apple flavored glue," he complained after the sauce had slid down his throat. Kurt giggled a little and quickly tried to stop himself, although Carson could still see the tiny remnants of a smile playing at the corners of his twin's mouth.

"And now you're laughing at me," Carson said teasingly with an exaggerated whine, hoping to get that smile to come out again. He hadn't heard Kurt laugh...really laugh...since he'd woken up, and the sound had been music to Carson's ears. "I'm on my deathbed being forced to eat something grosser than Trollberry's soul, which, incidentally, she sold to Satan in 2002 in exchange for the uncanny ability to burst into a Broadway showstopper at the most inopportune time possible, and you think it's funny."

Kurt stared at him for a minute, the spoon in his hand frozen in motion inside the container of applesauce, and looked momentarily confused as he processed what Carson had said. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly, and then turned up more, and suddenly he burst out laughing. "What?!" he gasped out through his giggles.

"Yeah, actually, I don't know what I just said," replied Carson. There's that laugh. The laugh I'd do anything to hear.

"You're such a weirdo," said Kurt with a grin.

"Maybe so, but I got you to smile and laugh," Carson pointed out. Kurt nodded.

"True," he said, gathering up a spoonful of applesauce and holding the spoon toward Carson's mouth again. "Come on, now. Another bite."

"Uuuugh," Carson mumbled, but he obediently opened his mouth and accepted the bite that Kurt offered to him. He swallowed it with a grimace and looked pleadingly into Kurt's eyes. "How many more bites until I can stop?"

"Mmm...three," replied Kurt after a moment of deliberation. "Three more bites and then I promise I'll leave you alone."

Carson sighed heavily. "Ok," he mumbled, opening his mouth up and closing his eyes like a baby bird awaiting a worm from its mother. "Shove that thick gooey stuff down my throat."

Kurt snorted, and Carson peeked one eye open enough to see that he was blushing a furious shade of red. Probably should have phrased that better...then again, he's really cute when he's flustered like that.

"I'll be back in a little bit, boys, ok?" said Burt, getting up from his chair and taking his phone out of his jeans pocket. "Looks like Kurt's got everything under control here."

Kurt smiled. "Yep," he said, twirling the spoon through the applesauce and gathering up a decent sized bite as Burt left the room, softly closing the door behind him. "I really ought to kill you for saying that with Dad in here," he hissed, his face still flushed a deep scarlet.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," said Carson, biting his lip and smiling at him. "Totally unfortunate phrasing."

"Yeah, yeah," replied Kurt, giving him a playful swat on the arm. Ok," he said cheerfully, holding the spoon up to Carson's face. "Open up."

Carson made a face as he swallowed down the applesauce and tried not to gag. "This stuff really is awful," he complained. Kurt reached one hand out to ruffle his hair.

"I know." He looked around the empty room and then back at Carson, a sly grin spreading across his face. "How about if I make the next two bites worth your while?"

"Oh?" asked Carson, interested. Kurt nodded and leaned forward so he could whisper into Carson's ear.

"For every bite you take, I'll reward you with a kiss," he said softly, and Carson felt himself blushing as he nodded slowly.

"Yeah...yeah, I could deal with that," he answered. Kurt grinned and dipped the spoon into the applesauce one more time.

"Alright, then. Open," he said cheerily. Carson took a deep breath and sucked the spoon into his mouth, swallowing the applesauce in one gulp and barely even making a face this time. Go me, he thought proudly, but all coherent thought flew out the window entirely as Kurt leaned in and caught his lips in a soft, tender kiss. Oh god, I've missed this...so soft...soft lips...what if I had forgotten about this? How this feels? God, I'd rather be dead. It took him a minute to realize that Kurt had stopped kissing him and was sitting back, staring at him with an amused expression.

"Enjoy that, did you?" he asked, one eyebrow raised suggestively. Carson smiled and nodded.

"I love you so much," he said quietly, and he saw Kurt gulp, looking like he was trying his hardest not to cry.

"I love you too, Carsey," he answered in a choked up voice, playing absentmindedly with the spoon as he twirled it around inside the applesauce. "This stuff washes down better with a kiss, doesn't it?"

"You could say that," said Carson. "Still tastes like apple flavored ass, though." Kurt snorted.

"Ok, ok...one more bite, and then I promise I'll never make you eat this again," he promised, and Carson sat up straighter, bracing himself.

"Bring it on," he said determinedly. Kurt lifted the spoon and brought it to his face, and Carson didn't even hesitate. He swallowed down the last bite of the offending applesauce quickly, gagging a little as he felt it slide down his throat, but soon forgetting all about it as Kurt kissed him again. Their lips slid together beautifully, as though they had been born to kiss each other (which, Carson thought, they kind of had been), and stars danced behind his eyes as Kurt pulled away all too soon.

"No more applesauce?" Carson said hopefully, and Kurt smiled.

"No more applesauce," he confirmed, holding the container up and shaking it for dramatic effect before theatrically tossing it into the nearby trash bin.

"Do I get kisses to make up for all the spoonfuls of that nasty shit that I had to gag down before Dad left the room?" asked Carson, crossing his arms and trying to pout, knowing that it probably looked ridiculous. "It's only fair, after all."

"Hmm, first of all, pouting only works when I do it. And secondly, I do suppose that's fair," Kurt mused, leaning his body forward in his chair so that his face was close to Carson's. "Although, I have to be honest, after all that's happened in the past week, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to refuse you a kiss again, so you kind of have an unfair advantage here."

"I could live with that," replied Carson, his breath hitching in his throat as Kurt's hand reached up to cup his cheek and his face leaned in closer until their lips were pressed together in a deep, passionate kiss. Carson wondered if it was really good for his heart to be beating so fast right now, or for his blood to be rushing so fast in his ears, but decided he didn't really give a shit. He didn't care about anything except the fact that his boyfriend, the most beautiful man in the entire world, was kissing him, and it felt like heaven.

And if he had to choke down some vaguely apple flavored lawn fertilizer in order to get those kisses, then, well...he supposed that was a small price to pay for such a wonderful reward.

"Your lips taste good," Carson said quietly, running his tongue carefully across his own bottom lip as they parted from the kiss. "Really sweet. Much better than that disgusting apple ass."

Kurt smiled shyly, leaning his face back down in preparation for another kiss, but stopping quickly in his tracks as the door started to open. Shit, Carson thought in a slight panic as the door opened all the way and their dad entered the room, holding a cup of coffee and looking down at his phone's screen. Come on, Dad, you couldn't have held out for a few more minutes? I'm trying to make out with my devastatingly handsome boyfriend, here. He glanced at Kurt, who had settled back in his chair and was busying himself with picking lint off of his shirt. Carson could make out the pink tinge on his twin's cheeks where Kurt was blushing in embarrassment. It's ok, Kurtsie, he's oblivious.

"I'm back," Burt announced, and Carson was pretty proud of himself for holding back the "No shit" that desperately wanted to escape from his mouth in reply. "Everything good here? Carson, did you eat?"

"He ate," replied Kurt, answering the question for him.

"It tasted like a bird took a shit in a barrel of apples," spoke up Carson. "But yes, I ate it."

"Good," said Burt, ignoring the language. "I knew your brother would find some way to get you to do it."

You can say that again. "He has his ways," Carson replied, at the same time as Kurt said "I have my ways." Burt chuckled.

"You guys are two peas in a pod," he said. "I'm so happy to have you back, Carson. To have the two of you together, like you should be." Carson felt Kurt's hand reach out and grab hold of his, squeezing gently.

"So are we, Dad," he replied quietly. "So are we."

The first days of Carson's recovery were harder for Kurt to deal with, in some ways, than him being in a coma. He absolutely hated seeing Carson struggle with the aftermath of his injuries. He knew that the healing burns on his twin's body had to be painful, even despite the almost constant drip of medication into his system to help with the pain. Carson may have been desperately trying to not let it show, but Kurt's heart broke every time he saw a brief wince on his face as something accidentally brushed up against a sore spot.

"You ok?" he asked every time.

"Fine," Carson always replied through gritted teeth. Kurt didn't want to argue with him, so he always dropped the subject. So far he had been lucky enough to not be on the receiving end of one of Carson's extreme mood swings, and he wanted to keep it that way. Because, while Carson was just as loving and sweet to him as he'd ever been before the accident, he was ten times bitchier to everybody else. Kurt felt sorry for the hospital staff, who barely ever escaped a visit to Carson's room without receiving a verbal barb or two.

"It's fucking hot in here," he'd complained to a nurse one day as she came in to change out his IV full of pain drugs. "Doesn't this place believe in air conditioning?"

"This food sucks," he'd said on a different occasion as another nurse brought him his dinner tray. "I swear to fuck, this is worse than the shit they used to serve us in the cafeteria at McShitley. Is this food or rancid cow dicks?"

"Carson," Kurt admonished him, giving an apologetic glance to the nurse, who looked like she couldn't wait to get out of there.

"Well, it's true," said Carson grumpily as the nurse practically flew out of the room. "This food is such shit. I want real food. And I want to go home. Go home and eat real food, not this crap." He crossed his arms and glared at the tray in front of him.

"Carsey, you know you have to follow the diet they have you on until your stomach is healed," said Kurt sensibly as he took a plastic spoon and stirred it through the lumpy mashed potatoes on Carson's tray.

"I want ice cream," Carson pouted, and Kurt almost wanted to laugh at how adorable he looked, sticking his lip out like a cranky toddler.

"Ice cream isn't the best idea, baby," he replied. "You're not supposed to have sweet stuff. It will aggravate your headaches."

"I don't care," said Carson, looking miserably down at the spoonful of mashed potatoes in Kurt's hand. "I hate this stuff." Kurt felt so bad for him, but he knew Carson had to eat.

"I know, honey, but it's not forever," he said as Carson scowled. "Now, come on. Take a bite. It's not that bad."

"I can feed myself," Carson whined, even though they both knew that he couldn't. Not unless they wanted meal time to last for several hours as Carson struggled to keep a steady enough hold on his spoon to make it to his mouth. "I'm not a two year old."

"Aaaaw, but you've been acting like one lately," Kurt teased. "Yelling at nurses and doctors and stuff."

"They deserved it," Carson muttered.

"You're cute," said Kurt with a smile. "Now, come on. Take a bite. Please?" He waved the spoon around, and Carson frowned, refusing to open his mouth. "Oh, come on, Carsey," Kurt prodded. "Open your mouth, 'cause here comes the train. Choo choo!"

Carson's lips twitched as he struggled, unsuccessfully, not to laugh. "Only because I love you," he said through his giggles, grudgingly opening his mouth and accepting the potatoes with a grimace.

"Tastes like chicken...shit," he said as he swallowed it down. "Chicken shit."

Carson's lack of muscle coordination and motor skills was probably the hardest part of this whole thing for Kurt to watch him deal with, especially because he could see in Carson's eyes how much it embarrassed him to not be able to do most basic things for himself until he could start physical therapy sessions. Everything was a struggle, from eating to dressing to bathing. Even using the bathroom on his own proved to be a challenge at first, as Kurt discovered soon after Carson had first awakened from his coma. He had helped Carson across the room to the small attached bathroom, which Carson had shut himself in while Kurt waited patiently outside. It had been taking him quite a long time, though, and Kurt was starting to get worried.

"Carson?" he'd called, knocking gently on the door with his knuckles. "Um...are you ok in there?"

"Fine," Carson had replied, but it sounded strained, as though he were struggling to retain his composure.

"Are you sure?" asked Kurt. There was silence for a minute, and then he heard Carson sigh.

"Come on," Kurt heard Carson say quietly from behind the door. "Please, come on, not this too.."

"Carson, what's wrong?" he asked, worried. There was no answer. "Carson, I'm coming in," he continued, lifting the door handle and gently opening the door. Needless to say, the fact that Carson clearly required assistance even to perform this most basic of functions was humiliating him, and Kurt just wanted to hug him close.

"I can do it myself," Carson insisted weakly, even as he proved that no, he couldn't. "I can do it." He bit his lip and looked so close to tears that Kurt's heart hurt just looking at him.

"Shhh, Carsey, it's ok," he soothed as he helped him. "It's ok."

"It's not ok, Kurt," said Carson in a choked voice as he looked everywhere but at him, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "It's...I just...you seeing me like this, I can't..."

"Carson, let me say something," Kurt said gently as he flushed the toilet and led Carson over to the sink to help him wash his hands. "We're together. We're a couple. I plan to spend the rest of my life with you, and I like to think that you have the same plan. Right?"

"Right," said Carson.

"Ok," replied Kurt. "Well, if we're going to do that, then isn't this kind of what that's all about? I mean, everything isn't always going to be picture perfect. A relationship like this means that we enjoy each other at our best, yes, and that's wonderful. But, Carsey, it also means that we help and support each other at our worst. That's what you do when you love someone. I love you, so I'm going to stay by your side and be there when you need me. Like right now." He turned the faucet off and used a paper napkin to gently dry Carson's shaking hands, taking them in his own and bringing them up to his mouth to kiss, one at a time.

"I seriously don't even deserve you," said Carson. Kurt shook his head, touching his forehead and nose to Carson's and closing his eyes, savoring the closeness.

"No, baby, don't say that, ok?" he said. "I'm nothing all that special. It's the other way around. It's me who doesn't deserve you, and now that I've almost lost you once, I realize just how precious you really are to me. I mean, I knew before, but now I really know, you know?" He lifted his face to kiss Carson on the forehead, carefully wrapping him up in a hug.

"Cuddles in bed?" he asked, and he felt Carson nod against his shoulder.

"That would be awesome," he whispered. Kurt gently led him out of the bathroom and back into the bed, where he got Carson settled in first before carefully climbing in beside him and holding his arms out in invitation. Carson eagerly entered them, snuggling as close as he could and pressing a soft kiss to Kurt's chest before resting his head against it.

"Should we put the TV on?" asked Kurt. Carson shook his head.

"Let's not. My head hurts," he replied, letting out a sigh. Kurt nodded and held him closer, kissing the top of his hair.

"Ok," he said. "You just lay here and relax. Should we call for more drugs?"

"Kurt, I'm already full of enough drugs to start my own cartel. I think we're good," replied Carson with a yawn, and Kurt couldn't help but laugh.

"Yep, you're still my same old Carsey, alright," he said.

"No, I'm not," said Carson. "I'm broken, damaged Carsey who has to be fed like an infant and who can't even take a piss on his own anymore, apparently, and needs the help of his drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend, which is embarrassing as fuck."

"You really think I'm drop-dead gorgeous?" asked Kurt.

"Duh."

"Oh, sweetheart," Kurt cooed, softly stroking his fingers up and down Carson's back. "You're not broken, and you're not damaged. You're just...you're just hurt and bruised up a bit. But you'll get better and back to your old self soon. And this will all just be a very bad memory."

"It'll be a half nonexistent memory, actually," said Carson. "I can't remember the damn lightning strike. Not that I want to, but...you know."

"I know," Kurt said quietly, privately thinking about just how much he didn't want Carson to remember the lightning strike either, because he didn't want him to also remember the events that led up to it. It wasn't that he wanted to lie to Carson. That wasn't it. He just didn't want Carson remembering the fight and the heartbreak, which had, after all, essentially been over nothing. No, it was probably better for everybody if Carson didn't remember.

"Who needs to remember that bullshit, anyway?" said Carson, burying his face into the soft fabric of Kurt's T-shirt. "Not me. Don't care. Fuck that lightning. I don't want to remember it."

"Yeah," agreed Kurt, smiling as he enjoyed the feeling of Carson cuddling up to him. "Fuck it."

"Dad," said Carson one day as Kurt left them alone to go to the bathroom. "You've got to help me. I'm dying over here."

"Hmm?" asked Burt, looking up from the copy of Popular Mechanics he had been reading and frowning. "What's wrong, buddy? Are you ok? Do you need the nurse?"

Carson suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "No, I don't need the nurse. I need real food. Specifically, I need ice cream."

He wasn't even lying, either. He really, really, really wanted ice cream. He wanted it so bad that he could practically already taste it. He had been in the hospital now, awake, that is, for almost a week, and had been surviving on the shitty slop that they liked to call "food." And quite frankly, he was sick to death of it. He knew he had to eat it, but honestly, he didn't see how one little ice cream could hurt. He hadn't had anything sweet in forever, and he was craving it like a bitch.

"Hmm, I don't know, Carson. Your brother would have a fit," said Burt. "You remember how he was with me and my diet after I had my heart attack. Something tells me that it's ten times worse with you."

"Dad, pleeeease?" Carson begged. "I've been eating nothing but the crappy hospital food forever, and it sucks! That's not even food. It's lies! It's some kind of evil, goopy, stuff masquerading as food. Just one ice cream, that's all. That's all I want. Pleeeeease?" He tried to contort his face into a pout, not sure how well that would work, since he'd never really tried pouting on his dad before. He wasn't good enough at it to sway Kurt, but maybe his dad would be a different story.

"Please?" he repeated.

"I dunno..." said Burt uncertainly.

Carson sighed heavily. "You know, Dad, I could have died from that lightning strike. I could be dead right now. You could be tossing flowers onto my grave and mourning my loss. Or throwing yourself over my coffin in despair, and as you gaze upon the framed photograph of me that's decorating the top of said coffin, you would wish with all your heart that you could be bringing ice cream to your poor, sick son." Carson decided to stop talking before he started to ramble, and checked his father's face to see how well that little speech he had pulled out of his ass had worked.

Apparently it had worked quite well, because Burt sighed, put down his magazine, and got up from his chair. "Ok," he said quietly as Kurt emerged from the bathroom. "I'll uh...ahem...chocolate, right?" he said in a whisper, casting a nervous glance in Kurt's direction.

"Mmm-hmm," Carson confirmed, and Burt nodded, patting him on the shoulder and turning to Kurt.

"I'll be right back, boys," he said brightly. "Will you be ok while I'm gone?"

"We'll be awesome," said Carson with a smile. Kurt looked confused, but shrugged.

"Um, yeah. We'll be fine," he said. Burt nodded and disappeared out of the room quickly, as though he was afraid that Kurt would sense that he was on an illicit ice cream mission. Carson was about to turn to him and ask if he wanted to take the opportunity while their dad was gone to have a quick makeout session, which they had been sneaking in as often as they could (which wasn't nearly often enough for Carson's liking, since Burt was in the room more often than he wasn't). Unfortunately, the room door opened before he could speak, and Dr. Banks walked in, wearing that constant smile on his face that Carson was kind of really starting to hate.

"Hello, Carson," he said cheerfully as he crossed the room and took the chart off the foot of the bed. "How are we feeling today?"

"I don't know how we are feeling today, but I am feeling rather shitty," said Carson matter-of-factly, deciding not to beat around the bush, since the doctor was currently depriving him of Kurt's lips and Carson decided that he should pay. "The fucking headaches never let up, I still have the coordination of Brittany when she's blasted off Jell-O shots, and yesterday I couldn't feel my hands for like two hours, and then they tingled afterwards for a really long fucking time before they felt even close to normal again."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kurt trying to shrink into his chair, his face reddening. Dr. Banks blinked at Carson for a second before clearing his throat and putting the chart back.

"Ok," he said slowly, as if he were afraid of triggering a Carson meltdown if he so much as spoke the wrong word. "I understand your frustration, Carson, and I assure you that these ailments you're experiencing are, for the most part, only temporary. After all, your body has been through a lot. Healing takes time, and there's only so much we can do to treat the side effects. A lot of the healing will have to come with time."

"What do you mean "for the most part?" Carson asked, fixating on that part of the doctor's speech and feeling a sense of dread building in his stomach. "Are you implying that some of this bullshit will stay with me permanently? Oh hell no."

Dr. Banks sighed. "Unfortunately, I can't guarantee that you will or won't have permanent, lasting effects," he said, sounding sympathetic as he gave Carson and Kurt a small smile. "That's really something that we'll only see as time passes. You did sustain some nerve damage from the lightning, which is why you occasionally lose feeling in your hands. Now, as far as what this means for your future, I really can't say right now. It's possible that you could develop problems later, or you could be completely healed by this time next year. We simply won't know until we get there."

"What kind of problems?" asked Kurt quietly as Carson tried to process this news without having a complete meltdown. He couldn't live this way for a year and beyond. He just couldn't. He'd lose his shit.

Dr. Banks cleared his throat. "Well, as time passes and we know the extent of the nerve damage, he could develop chronic pain, difficulty sleeping, disruptions in...in sexual arousal..."

"What?" interrupted Carson, refusing to believe that he had heard those last words correctly. "What the fuck do you mean, disruptions in sexual arousal? Am I...am I gonna be able to...?" Kurt's blush had deepened to tomato red by now, and he was looking down at his shoes as Dr. Banks suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"Like I said, Carson, we won't know until we get there," he repeated. "But any of these problems will be more than treatable. If they even develop. We just have to wait and see." He gave Carson an awkward pat on the shoulder and smiled. "Maybe I should come back later, hmm?"

"Yes, maybe you should," Carson snapped, and Dr. Banks quickly made his way out of the room as Carson looked at Kurt in horror.

"Kurt...oh my god," he said, trying not to panic as he thought of what a useless piece of shit he would really be to Kurt if he couldn't even have sex properly. Kurt took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Carson, it's ok," he said. Carson shook his head.

"No, Kurt. No, it's not ok!" he whined. "What if my dick doesn't even work anymore? What the fuck does that mean for you? For us?"

Kurt shrugged. "It just means that we'll be a couple who has to work a little bit harder and overcome a few more obstacles than your average," he said casually. "It's really not a big deal, baby."

"Not a big deal?" asked Carson incredulously. "Kurt, I don't think you get it. If I can't get it up, then sex is going to be a hell of a lot more work for you, and you deserve so much better than that. I'll be the world's most useless boyfriend."

"No, you won't be," Kurt reassured him. "I promise, I will still love you even if that happens. But I'm pretty sure it won't."

"But what if it does?" Carson whined. He didn't even want to think about this possibility, but it was all he could think about. Kurt sighed and got up from his chair, walking over to the door and peeking his head outside. He looked in both directions and shut the door tightly, turning around and giving Carson a mischievous grin.

"What are you doing?" asked Carson suspiciously. Kurt's grin grew wider.

"I'm going to prove to you that there's absolutely nothing wrong with your dick," he said, and Carson suddenly felt really hot all over. Especially once Kurt had moved the chairs out of the way and started using the floor as an imaginary dance floor, moving his hips in the ways he had previously only reserved for his Cheerio days at McKinley.

"Shit, Kurt," Carson breathed, his eyes focused on the tightness of Kurt's pants and how well they hugged his ass...that beautiful, gorgeous ass that he hadn't touched in so very long and was now positively aching to touch. And speaking of aching...

"Um...Kurt?" Carson said, blushing as he tried to shift his legs to make himself more comfortable. Kurt raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side.

"Yes?" he asked in a saucy tone of voice.

"I, um...there's nothing wrong with my dick," Carson squeaked, and Kurt responded by bending over in front of him, putting his ass front and center on display.

"See?" he said. "I knew there wasn't. Pretty sure I just made you hard without even touching you."

"So you did," said Carson. "Now you should stop, because if someone walks in right now, this could get awfully embarrassing."

"Or, I could take care of it for you before someone walks in, and then maybe you'll be a little bit nicer the next time a member of the hospital staff comes in to check on you," countered Kurt, and Carson had to admit, the offer was pretty tempting. Still, it was risky as fuck.

"We could get caught," he protested, even though he knew he wasn't going to be able to resist for very long as Kurt strode over to him, carrying one of the chairs with him and setting it down beside the bed. Carson gulped as Kurt delicately sat himself down and leaned in to kiss him, his lips gentle but firm as they pressed against Carson's. Carson felt Kurt's tongue darting out to run across his bottom lip, and he shivered in spite of the fact that it was actually pretty hot in the room at the moment. Or maybe that was just him who was hot. Who the fuck knew? And who the fuck cared, because, ok, that was Kurt's hand slowly snaking its way under the covers and creeping its way toward the prize it was seeking. Carson gasped into Kurt's mouth as he felt the hand encircling his dick and giving it several long, gentle strokes.

"Fuck," he breathed, and Kurt parted from the kiss to grin at him.

"Relax and enjoy, baby," he whispered in his ear, and Carson was vaguely aware that their dad would be back any time with the ice cream, but he didn't really care right now. Kurt's hand on him felt wonderful, even if it was a little too rough and a little too dry. It had been too long, definitely. Most definitely, because Carson felt himself rapidly approaching his peak after only a few minutes of stroking. He let out a moan that Kurt muffled with his lips, and suddenly he was stuttering his hips and coming all over Kurt's hand, his vision going white for a moment as Kurt stroked him through it and he slowly came back down to earth.

"Wow," he said breathily as Kurt removed his hand and reached for a moist towelette from the stack of them that were now kept on the beside table for cleanup purposes after Carson's meal times.

"See?" said Kurt triumphantly as he ripped open the cloth and cleaned off his hand. "Your dick is fine. Our sex life will be fine. All it takes is-"

He got no further, because the door opened then and Burt strode in, carrying a bag from Dairy Queen and whistling to himself. Carson's heart hammered nervously in his chest as he adjusted his blankets, and he was pretty sure Kurt was having a heart attack beside him as he quickly tried to dispose of the soiled moist towelette.

"Ok, kid," said Burt as he reached into the bag and carefully extracted a small cup and a spoon. He removed the lid from the cup, and Carson was extremely grateful for the distraction as he made eager grabby hands toward it.

"Gimmeee," he said happily as he reached for the cup, and he heard a hum of disapproval from Kurt's chair.

"Is that ice cream?" Kurt asked, and both Carson and Burt turned to look at him guiltily, although Carson was also kind of amused, because Kurt was still blushing from almost getting caught having forbidden sexytimes.

"Yes," said Carson. "It is."

"Dad!" Kurt exclaimed. "He can't have ice cream! You know the doctors said that sugar and sweets will make his headaches worse, and ice cream will be like ten times more likely to do that to him!"

"But Kurt," Carson whined. "I hate the food here. It's fucking gross. I just want something normal for once. Please?"

"Carson, your headaches," Kurt said adamantly. "I hate to see you in so much pain, and this will definitely cause you pain."

"But the ice cream is already here," Carson protested. "If I don't eat it, then it will either melt or one of you is going to have to eat it. And it won't be Dad, because you've forbidden him to ever eat anything fattening ever again. And it won't be you, because you would feel terrible eating ice cream in front of me when I'm forced to choke down overheated turds at every meal. So..." he trailed off and gave Kurt a hopeful smile. Kurt looked like he wanted to protest, but he just sighed and shrugged.

"Ok," he said. "Whatever. But mark my words, you're going to give yourself a headache."

"I don't care," said Carson happily, taking hold of the cup and jamming the spoon into the ice cream. His coordination hadn't much improved in the past few days, but he did manage to get the spoon to his mouth after a few tries.

"Oh my god," he moaned as the taste of the chocolate hit his taste buds. "This is, like...I don't even know. Sex. This is chocolate sex."

Burt snorted. Kurt blushed, and gently took the cup from Carson's hands, twirling the spoon around in the ice cream before holding it out to him. "Here, at least let me control the pace at which you eat this," he said. "Maybe if you eat it really slowly, your headache won't be as bad later." Carson settled back against his pillow and allowed Kurt to slowly feed him the ice cream as Burt sat back down with his magazine.

"Wasn't this chair in a different spot before?" he asked, looking around the room in confusion. Kurt's eyes met Carson's and Carson could tell that he was trying not to laugh out loud.

"Um...I don't know, Dad," Kurt replied as he gently stuck a spoonful of ice cream into Carson's mouth. Carson smiled at him and winked.

He wasn't smiling later that night, though, once he and Kurt were alone and cuddling in bed, trying to watch an old rerun of The Facts of Life. Kurt was laughing at something funny happening on the screen, but Carson was frowning as he desperately tried to ward off the huge headache he could feel coming on. He tried to discreetly rub at his forehead to relieve some of the pressure, but he wasn't subtle enough. Kurt turned his attention to him and gave him a knowing look.

"Headache?" he asked. Carson sighed and nodded.

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, the pain growing worse by the second.

"Forgive me for gloating in your time of need, but who was it who told you that if you ate ice cream, you would probably pay for it later?" asked Kurt sweetly.

"You did," Carson grumbled. "You don't have to rub it in. I'm in far too much pain to defend myself."

Kurt pulled him closer and kissed his forehead before Carson nuzzled his face into Kurt's neck and let out a shuddering breath. "It hurts," he whined, his voice muffled by Kurt's skin.

"I know it does, baby," soothed Kurt. "Just hold onto me. That's it. Try not to think about it." He turned the TV off and Carson breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden silence in the room. He burrowed into the comfort of Kurt's arms and let the beating of his twin's heart lull him off to sleep.

He woke up the next morning still in Kurt's arms, his headache mercifully gone and his lips dry. He yawned and saw that Kurt was already awake, scrolling through his Facebook newsfeed on his phone and occasionally tapping out a brief comment.

"Everybody says to get well soon," he said, noticing Carson looking at him. "Even Rachel. I told her she could just come visit you and tell you herself, but I think she's afraid."

Carson nodded. "She should be. I'm ten times the bitch I was before all of this. I might literally bite her head off. But tell her thank you." He yawned again and burrowed closer to Kurt's warm body. "Where's Dad?"

"Off getting breakfast somewhere. He's under strict instructions not to eat anything from a fast food establishment," replied Kurt. "So he might be awhile. We have the room to ourselves for a bit, my dear."

"I like the sound of that," said Carson sleepily, leaning up for a kiss. He pressed his lips against Kurt's and just let the feeling of being totally enveloped by Kurt's love wash over him. Early morning kisses really were the best kind.

"Mmm, that was nice," whispered Kurt as they parted from the kiss, giving Carson a small smile. Carson smiled back and reached up, stroking Kurt's face with a shaking hand.

"I know," he said. "Let's do it again." He caught Kurt's lips back in another kiss, and Kurt let out a giggle as their teeth accidentally crashed together. They were so busy kissing that they didn't realize that the door had been opened until a slightly familiar voice rang through the room.

"I knew it!"