"Mommy?" He felt someone touching his arm, and realized it was dark because his eyes were closed.

"Kurt." He heard again. His eyes, heavy from tears and restless sleep, fluttered open. "Son, we need to talk." His father was sitting on the side of his bed. Kurt realized he must have been dreaming, but he didn't even remember falling asleep. Reality of the days before began to sink in as he looked up at his father. He rubbed his eyes to help himself focus and noticed they were wet, and he wondered if he had been crying in his sleep. He sniffled, and sat up against his pillow.

"Uhm, okay," his voice scratchy from lack of use.

"Kurt," Burt looked at his son and sighed. Reaching forward, he grabbed both of Kurt's hands in his. Kurt had never held his dad's hands like this before; only when they crossed the street or something. The action woke him up as his dad began. "I'm not good at this kind of thing, so.. I'm just gonna jump in." Kurt looked up at his father, whose eyes were pink and swollen too, and waited patiently for him to continue. Burt stared back, and when he spoke, his voice was firm but gentle, and Kurt knew that his father had taken time to think about what he was going to say. "Things are gonna be...well, they're gonna be different now." Kurt heard his dads voice crack, and fidgeted with a fold in the sheet. "Your mom... your mom is... gone. And there's nothing we can do to change that... And it's okay to feel sad, or lonely, or scared. Heck, I feel all of those things too, ya know?" He placed a calloused finger under Kurt's chin, willing him meet his gaze. "I guess what I'm tryn'a say is..." he furrowed his brow, and Kurt saw something in his eyes that he'd never seen before. They were softer; aching.

"I know how much you love her. I know you're gonna miss her... That you already do, and.. and that it hurts a lot... But you're a part of her, you know that?" He cupped a hand around Kurts cheek. "You have some of her inside of you. And you might not see that now, but God, I see it every day and Kurt, you have to find her strength inside there somewhere." He placed a hand on his sons chest and smiled down at him through watery eyes. "It's gonna be tough. There probably won't be a day that you won't miss her....I hope there isn't a day... But she'd... she'd want us to be happy. And I know how much she loved you, and I could never be half as good she was to you, but I'm sure as hell gonna try. Cause you've... you've got me, alright?" He pulled Kurt into his chest, wrapping both arms around his small frame, and kissed the top of Kurt's head.

Kurt hugged him back. Tears streaming down his face, he couldn't think of words to say...

The things his dad said, the emotion behind them, were new to Kurt. His dad had never really showed his feelings often. But despite their lack of conversation, Kurt always knew his dad loved him. And now he could feel it. He could feel his dad holding him, and accepted the warmth not only of the embrace, but the love behind it. Kurt hugged back, murmuring a "thanks dad" as he buried his face into his fathers chest.

They sat like that for an undeterminable amount of time, lost in their grief, yet trying to comfort one another, until the phone rang and Burt went to go answer it.

Kurt laid in his bed, listening to his fathers voice murmur through the hall. His dad returned to the doorway a few minutes later, phone in hand, with a hint of a smile on his face.

"Hey ah, why don't you go ahead and get cleaned up a bit. Some... people are coming over."

Kurt was slipping a shirt over his still-wet hair when the doorbell rang. Dad hadn't told him who there visitors were, but Kurt was more anxious than not because his dad's expression made him feel like he should be happy for this company. And he could count on one hand the people he'd be happy to see.

He tip-toed down the stairs, calculating each step before making his presence known. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to act. The shower hadn't washed away the ever-present feelings of loss for his mother; he was still fighting the overwhelming feeling that they'd sweep over him again in an instant. But at the same time, he really wanted to see his best friend. He'd allowed himself to hope it'd be Blaine coming over. Blaine, ever since the day they met, had always made Kurt feel better. And Kurt really wanted to feel better.

He heard what sounded like a woman's voice in the next room, muted through the wall between them, and he continued towards the entryway.

Kurt stretched his left foot out first, then slowly revealed the rest of his body in the doorway of the kitchen. His dad was accompanied by two others, but was the Kurt could identify. The woman had her back turned to him and was speaking in a whispered voice, and obstructing his view of the third figure at the table.

Nobody had heard him approach. He coughed softly to announce his presence, and the woman stopped talking. She turned around at the sound, and when she stood up to give Kurt a hug, he saw the third figure at the table.

The tears were already running down his cheeks before he realized he was crying, and Mrs. Anderson just held him like that. She was whispering comforting words in his ear, but he didn't hear any of it. All Kurt could see or hear or think was Blaine. And how Blaine was right there, and not only was he here, he'd gotten up and was approaching him.

He blinked a few tears away, and saw that Blaine was teary too. He was overcome with emotion as Mrs. Anderson let go, and Blaine grabbed his hand. He looked towards the doorway wordlessly suggesting they leave the kitchen. That action alone was something Kurt had been waiting for. To have someone who knew what he wanted without even asking. Blaine lead them to Kurt's bedroom, and after the door was shut, Kurt let yet another tidal wave of emotions knock him out.

He couldn't speak through his sobs, though he tried. But Blaine just sat there, hugging him, holding his hand, waiting. They stayed like that for a long time, until finally Kurt felt like he'd cried all the water out of his body.

He opened his eyes and realized for the first time he was laying on the floor. There was a blanket over him, and his pillow was... moving. Kurt lifted his head and saw his pillow was actually Blaine's tummy, and he'd stained his gray shirt with tears.

"Oh, Blaine! I've ruined your shirt. I'm so sorry." He sat up to look at his friend apologetically.

Blaine, who was propped up on actual pillows against the nightstand, raised a triangular eyebrow. "Sorry? For getting my shirt wet? Um, Kurt it's alright." He chuckled softly, scratching the back of his head with one hand and grabbed one of Kurt's with his other. "Are you feeling a little better? You fell asleep for a little bit. Our parents came in and said I could stay the night, but if you want I can g--"

"--No, no.. Please don't go." Kurt couldn't let him finish that sentence. Now that Blaine was there, Kurt couldn't think about being away from him again. He couldn't explain it, but it was like Blaine was the only good thing he'd felt in the past five days. Yes, his dad had been with him the whole time, and their talk this afternoon had made him feel better. But on some level his father's presence continually reminded him of his mother's absence. But Blaine was the only person, aside from his mother, who could comfort Kurt just by being there. "Please stay. I feel better now that you're here." He looked up at his friend, who had relaxed a little and was smiling softly at him.

"Well, ok, if that's what you want. I just... well.. do you want to talk about it?" He didn't ask if everything was alright, because of course it was not. And Kurt knew Blaine wanted to hear what he was thinking and feeling, so he tried to gather his very scattered and overwhelming thoughts.

"Uhm. Well, I.. I really do feel better. Sorry all I've done is--"

And then it was Blaine's turn to interrupt his friend. "Kurt. You have nothing to apologize for. You have every reason to feel... whatever you're feeling. I can't even think about it or I start crying too. If you want don't want to talk about it, that's ok. But I'm here if you do. I am here to listen... or not. I just wish there was something more that I could do, but since there's not, I can just be... here." He never broke eye contact, piercing his warm toffee-brown's through Kurt's aqua-blue's, all the way to his heart, warming that too.

Kurt knew that Blaine wanted to understand, so he tried his best to explain. He started at the very beginning, from when Mr. Donnell brought Kurt to the office, to the hospital, to when he was torn away from Mommy, to the memorial service where everyone was dressed in black, to all the time alone with his dad and their talk, to this very moment.

Kurt tried his best not to cry, so that Blaine could understand the things he was saying. But every now and then a sob snuck in there, and Blaine waited quietly for him to continue, or cried a little with him, never letting go of his hand.

"It used to just feel like... emptiness.. before. That night, when we got home. Daddy would say stuff to me, and I couldn't hear him. But now it's like.." he struggled, trying to express his emotions with words. "It's like.. I still feel empty. But now there's other things too." He bit his lip. He couldn't say it right. How was he supposed to explain something he didn't even understand himself? He missed his mom. He couldn't think about her without aching. He ached a lot. Everything reminded him of her. But now he'd spent more time with his dad than probably in his whole life. And even though things were completely terrible, this was something they finally had in common. They both lost her. But they had each other.

"Like, what kinds of things? Kurt?" Blaine was looking at him encouragingly, pulling him back into the conversation. Oh yeah, he had been saying something.

"I can't really explain it. I.. I don't know how long it's going to be like this. Maybe forever. But if my dad is right, and if she is a part of me, then I've gotta be happy again someday, right? She was the happiest person I know, and when I think of her, it's always happy. But then I remember we will never have that again, and that's the part that I can't stand. I just.. I don't know." He knew he probably wasn't making any sense. But it was nice to put it all into words. Talking it all out had kind of loosened the knot he hadn't realized formed in his chest. And now he was incredibly tired, and for the first time in days, he wanted to sleep.

He got up and pulled out his pajamas, tossing Blaine an extra pair, and left to go brush his teeth. When he came back into his room, he saw his friend setting up a makeshift bed on the floor beneath his. "Blaine, what are you doing?"

Blaine looked up at him from the mess of blankets. "Um, I thought we were going to sleep."

"Well yeah, but what are you doing on the floor? You can't sleep there." He picked up the blankets and threw them and himself on his bed, leaving Blaine sitting there with just a pillow.

"Oh. Um, I didn't know.. Where should I..?"

Kurt just stared at him, eyebrow raised. "Up here, of course." He rolled his eyes. "My back is sore just from being down there tonight. You can't sleep down there all night, it would ruin your spine. You're sleeping in my bed with me." He said this so matter-of-factly Blaine got up immediately and Kurt scooted to make more room.

The truth was they'd never had a sleepover before without Shelby. Usually they made a fort of some sort and camped out together. But since it was only Blaine tonight and, given the circumstance, Kurt really didn't want to sleep alone.

"Thank you, Blaine." He yawned, turning off the light.

"For what?" Blaine whispered beside him in the darkness.

"For.. everything. For being my friend.. for being here."

"Well, you're my best friend."

"You're mine too."

Kurt wanted to say that he was more than that. But what was better than 'best'? He was to emotionally and physically exhausted to try and come up with a title for Blaine, but he knew 'best' didn't even scratch the surface of how grateful to have Blaine. He lay there thinking about this, letting his friends presence both figuratively and literally warm him as he fell asleep.