"The last time I went there a footballer started stalking me and then abducted me," Kurt replied coldly. "Why on earth would I go there again?"

"New Directions want to talk to you," Finn told him pleadingly, "please come, please."

Kurt sighed and looked at Blaine. The two seemed to be having a conversation with just their eyes, something Finn was undeniably jealous of. Rachel was always trying to give him hints but he never got them.

"Alright, we'll go," Kurt finally concluded, "However, if they try and shove religion down my throat, I won't hesitate to make a dramatic exit that'll rival even that of Rachel Berry."

"Deal," Finn agreed, smiling warmly at him, having stopped listening after 'Alright'.

Kurt nodded, took Blaine's hand and the two of them left. Finn let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He hoped this went well.

Finn met them outside in the parking lot, acting much like a security guard. Kurt was surprised that he hadn't donned shades and a black suit. He and Blaine didn't touch, not wanting to give these kids any ammo. The few letterman-jacket-wearing students gave Kurt and Blaine dirty looks as they passed and the whispers started.

'Ignore them; just ignore them' Blaine repeated over and over in his head, fist clenching at his side. He hated public schools for what they had done to him and Kurt. He knew that his fianc� was more upset than angry by what had happened, but Blaine was still furious. When it came to Kurt, his temper knew no bounds. If anyone even looked at Kurt in the wrong way, anger bubbled inside of Blaine, threatening to spill over.

Finn, oblivious to their struggle, led them into the choir room where all of New Directions were waiting for them.

"Kurt, Blaine," Will smiled encouragingly at them and the pair nodded back in greeting.

Rachel stood up and made her way across the room towards them. "I know you and Finn are having a rough time at the moment," Rachel said, shooting a look of sympathy to Finn, "but here in New Directions we are a family. I suppose it extends to the two of you, now. So we have prepared a song for you. Try and focus less on my talent - there'll be plenty of time for that later on reflection – and more on the meaning of the song."

Rachel not-so-subtly pushed them towards the seats and the pair obliged, shooting confused looks at one another as they sat in the middle seats of the front row.

The rest of New Directions stood and took to the middle of the choir room. The music started and Tina took lead vocals, something that surprised Kurt. But he could barely appreciate Tina's talent because of the lyrics. His mouth dropped open at their blatant attempts to convert him. Well, it would be to no avail, because he was firmly atheist. They were embarrassing themselves.

"If God had a name, what would it be?

And would you call it to his face

If you were faced with him in all his glory

What would you ask if you had just one question?

And yeah, yeah God is great yeah, yeah God is good

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!

Kurt stifled a laugh at the lack of intelligent lyrics and saw that Blaine was doing the same, though with far much more tact. Nevertheless, Kurt listened to the song patiently, feeling Blaine take his hand and squeezing it gently. Only Blaine knew how hard this was for him.

What if God was one of us?

Just a slob like one of us

Just a stranger on the bus

Trying to make his way home

He's trying to make his way home

Back up to heaven all alone

Nobody calling on the phone

Except for the Pope maybe in Rome"

The final notes rang out over the choir room. Kurt and Blaine clapped politely and New Directions beamed at one another, proud of their song choice and delighted with the reaction they were receiving.

"That was beautifully sung," Kurt told them, being cautious with his word choice, "but I'm afraid my views on religion won't change."

"But Kurt," Mercedes said, stepping forward, "God is everywhere; he can help you find peace in your time of grief."

"The only peace I'm getting is with Blaine," Kurt replied quietly, squeezing Blaine's hand. "Now that I've listened to you, I ask that you do the same for me. I want to tell you a story. As some of you know, when I was eight, my mother passed away."

Kurt was sitting on the couch, his legs swinging aimlessly against the bottom of the couch, each hit punctuated with a satisfying thwack. Kurt was dressed in black pants, a white shirt and a long black trench coat. Sun was shining through the curtains, as if the day was mocking them with brightness when darkness was settled over the Hummel home.

Kurt looked up when Blaine came wandering into the living room, his hair beautifully curly. He crawled onto the couch next to Kurt and wrapped his little arm around his friend. Kurt sniffed and leaned his head against Blaine's shoulder, seeking solace in the presence of his best friend.

Annie followed soon after Blaine, wearing a black dress, her eyes suspiciously damp. "Kurt, honey," she said, kneeling in front of the young boy, "Are you ready to go?"

"Where's dad?" Kurt asked, not lifting his head from Blaine's shoulder.

"He's coming down now," Annie smiled, reaching out a tentative hand to push Kurt's bangs out of his eyes.

"Are you coming with us?" Kurt asked, looking up at Blaine hopefully.

"We'll be with you the whole day," Annie promised.

"OK," Kurt whispered and Blaine tightened his hold on his best friend.

Burt came down stairs and nearly burst into a fresh set of tears at the sight of his son. Kurt looked up at his dad and gave a weak smile. Burt smiled softly back and cleared his throat. "Time to go," he said gruffly.

Blaine slid off the couch and Kurt followed, reaching out a hand to tangle with Blaine's. Annie took each hand that the other wasn't holding and led them out to the car. Edward drove, Annie riding in the back with Kurt and Blaine.

The funeral hall was packed with people and each cast sympathetic looks in Kurt and Burt's direction. Burt greeted each of them with a handshake while Kurt just stood quietly, barely recognising anyone.

"Come on kids," Burt said, holding out his hand. Kurt took Burt's hand and then Blaine's, tugging him along with them. He couldn't do this without Blaine by his side.

They sat up the front, noticing along the way that many people were already crying. The funeral began and the minister started to talk about Elizabeth, how she had touched their lives, her passions, her family. Kurt sniffed and gave a small sob. Blaine wiped his eyes and leant on his knees, pulling Kurt into a hug.

When it was over everyone stood and made their way out of the room, giving the grieving family some time alone.

"What can I do?" Blaine asked Kurt quietly as he watched his best friend cry, his own tears falling.

"I – I don't know," Kurt sobbed.

Blaine turned to his mum, tears falling faster with every passing second. "Mum," Blaine cried. "I don't know how to make him better."

"Oh sweetheart," Annie said sadly, tears welling in her eyes. She hugged them both tightly, letting them cry against her shoulders. "Blaine, why don't you take Kurt outside?" She suggested, pulling back.

"OK," Blaine whispered. He took Kurt's hand tightly and led him outside, sneaking past the adults who were milling around, swapping stories. He led them to a small fountain and they sat on the edge of it. "Please don't cry Kurt," Blaine begged. "You're making me cry."

Kurt fisted away his tears and sniffed. "I'm sorry," Kurt told him, making a valiant effort to stop crying.

"It's OK," Blaine said, "you're allowed to be sad, but you can't be sad forever because then I'll be sad forever."

"I don't want you to be sad," Kurt sniffed. Blaine hugged him tightly, fisting his hands in the back of Kurt's coat.

"Boys?" Burt called and the two pulled away, looking around for the source of the voice.

"Dad?" Kurt replied, eyes finding Burt's.

"Are you boys OK?" Burt asked, walking towards them.

They shrugged in sync and Burt sighed. He held out his hands and they two boys took one each. Burt squeezed their hands and crouched down in front of them. "We're going to be OK," Burt promised, smiling valiantly at both of them.

Kurt looked up and found that the girls were crying silently and even the boys looked shocked. Blaine had his head bowed and was subtly trying to wipe his tears away.

"It wasn't a heavenly father who got me through my grief," Kurt said quietly. "It was my own father and Blaine. I want my real dad back, not an invisible one." Kurt stood, helping Blaine up and led him out of the choir room.

They hurried through the halls and back to the car. Blaine slid behind the wheel and Kurt into the passenger seat. The two boys wiped their eyes, trying to regain control of their emotions.

"Are you OK?" Blaine asked. "I know you don't like talking about it."

"Finn and the others need to understand why," Kurt replied, sighing softly. "Can we go home and cuddle?"

"Yeah, we can do that," Blaine smiled softly. He drove them the short distance home and they went straight upstairs. They had missed visiting hours, much to Kurt's disappointment.

"Can I be the little spoon?" Kurt asked and Blaine nodded. They lay down and Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt tightly, tracing random patterns on Kurt's hip bone and nuzzling his neck. "Do you think he'll wake up?" Kurt whispered, his tears audible.

"He promised we'd be OK," Blaine said quietly. "Burt never goes back on a promise."

Kurt rolled over so he was facing Blaine. "I love you," he murmured, tracing the curve of Blaine's jaw with his fingertip.

"I love you too," Blaine whispered and Kurt snuggled back into Blaine's chest. Blaine was on the verge of sleep when he heard a soft knock on the door. Blaine turned his head and saw Annie coming in.

"Hey sweetheart," Annie said quietly. "Rough day?"

"Finn is trying to get Kurt to believe in God," Blaine whispered, looking down at Kurt who was asleep in his arms.

"Oh," Annie breathed.

"He told New Directions about his mum's funeral," Blaine continued quietly.

"Poor thing," Annie whispered. "How are you doing, Blaine?"

"I miss Burt," Blaine said quietly, trying to fight the urge to cling to his mum and sob.

"I know," Annie replied, smoothing his hair. "You're being so strong for Kurt."

"I have to be," Blaine whispered, holding Kurt tighter. "How's Carol doing?"

"She's hanging in there," Annie responded. "There was no change in Burt today."

"Kurt was upset we didn't get to see him today. I'm glad we're here for them," Blaine told her.

"Me too," Annie said. She leant down and kissed Blaine's cheek. "If you get hungry there's some left-over dinner in the oven for the two of you."

"Ok," Blaine mumbled, eyes slipping closed again.

"I love you sweetie," Annie whispered.

"Love you, too, Mum," Blaine mumbled, falling back into unconscious.

Annie paused at the doorway and sighed as she watched her two boys. Kurt had been through so much and now it looked like his was going to lose his dad as well. "Mum," Kurt sighed in his sleep and Annie's heart clenched. Blaine held him even tighter, nuzzling his neck.

Annie pulled the door so it was just left ajar and headed back down stairs. Finn was on the couch, flicking through the channels and Carol was on the phone to one of her brothers.

"Hey Finn," Annie greeted.

Finn looked up and smiled. "Hey."

"Everything OK?" Annie asked, leaning against the back of the couch.

Finn looked thoughtful for a moment. "I didn't know about Kurt's lack of faith."

"He's had a tough life," Annie said and Finn nodded, looking down. "Do you believe in God?"

"I thought maybe I did," Finn replied slowly. "But now I'm not so sure."

"People believe in different things Finn," Annie said gently, "and Kurt's faith can't be restored in one sitting. You should tell your friends, too."

Finn nodded, looking guilty. "I will."

Annie smiled and patted Finn's shoulder before heading into the kitchen. She was cleaning up when she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist and a kiss was placed on her cheek.

"Hey, honey," Edward murmured.

"Hey," Annie said, spinning in his arms to face him.

"How are you holding up?' Edward asked, holding her tightly.

"OK," Annie sighed. "I hope Burt gets better soon. I don't know how much more Kurt can handle."

"He's a strong kid," Edward assured her. "He's got us and Blaine and Carol and Finn."

"I know," Annie sighed, leaning her forehead against her husband's. "But just this once I'd like everything to work out for Kurt."

"Me too," Edward said quietly.

Upstairs, unbeknownst to the adults below, Kurt snuggled deeper into Blaine's warmth and murmured his mother's name in his sleep.

Kurt was awake before anyone else in the house the next morning. He'd gently wriggled out of Blaine's embrace and wandered aimlessly downstairs. Kurt milled between rooms before settling in the living room in the chair that was specifically Burt's. He stroked the arm rest absentmindedly, though the soft fabric brought him no comfort if his dad wasn't here to share it with him.

Kurt knew that he should probably wake the others up so that they could head to the hospital to see Burt, but he needed these few stolen moments. In his newly-chaotic life, he rarely got time to just sit and muse. Kurt sat back in the chair, heaving out a deep sigh. Sometimes he had to remind himself that this was all real. Everything was moving at such a pace that he could barely keep up. He was losing grip on himself. He'd been pushing Blaine away, he knew that, and Finn. He'd even kept his distance from Carol, Annie and Edward. What was happening to him?

The distinct clink of metal told him that the post had been delivered. Before realising that he was still in his pyjamas, Kurt was out of the front door and wandering down the path that led to the mailbox. When he reached it, he sucked in a deep breath of fresh air before laughing at the mailbox. He and Blaine had 'decorated' it with glitter when they were 8 and the only place that was devoid of sparkles was where they'd put handprints on it, signing their name's beneath. They'd done a similar thing to Annie and Edward's mailbox, but the Hummel's was so much better.

Kurt smiled wistfully as he thought back to a time when things were so simple.

Pushing his nostalgia aside, he opened the flap of the mailbox and dug inside to retrieve the post. Once the letters were in his hand, he was retreating back up the path and towards the house, absentmindedly flipping through the mail as he walked. Most of them were addressed to Burt – which pulled painfully hard on Kurt's heartstrings – and some to Carol, and there was one to Finn that had a return address of Ohio State Football College. But that wasn't what caught Kurt's attention.

The only thing that he could look at was the one letter that was addressed to him in scruffy shorthand that looked decidedly unofficial, though the envelope was embossed with one heading – Ohio Prison.

Kurt's blood ran cold in his fragile body.

He re-entered the house, already ripping the envelope open though he was sure he wouldn't want to read what was inside. There was a single sheet of paper inside that was covered in the same penmanship as the envelope. Kurt's eyes skittered down the page until he reached the sign-off, where he paused. It was signed 'David'.

David?

Kurt felt his face scrunch up in confusion at this. David? Oh, right. Karofsky. Kurt's hands were shaking as he read the letter, trying hard to keep himself from ripping the paper into a thousand pieces and feeding it to Finn.

Dear Kurt,

I know you're probably wondering why I'm writing to you. I mean, I know I'd be shocked if I was in your position. But I'm happy to surprise you, as long as it's in a good way. I hope I can keep surprising you. I'm not a monster, though I know you must think – completely justifiably – that I am. I hope I can prove you wrong.

Listen, Kurt, the reason why I'm writing is because I heard about your dad. I just want to say that I'm so, so sorry. I know I have a billion other things to apologise for, but I can imagine that the only thing on your mind right now is your father. I don't know if you know this, but like you – OK, I know it sounds creepy that I know that, but Finn talks about you, like, a lot – I lost my mum at a young age. So I have some indication of how shitty you must be feeling right now.

I know that you have it a billion times worse than me but I understand what it's like to feel alone. As you can probably imagine, my dad is probably the single most homophobic man in Ohio. But after hearing about your dad, we're trying. We're gunna try and make this work. I'm transferring out of McKinley and to a new school – not Dalton, don't worry. But hopefully one that's just as accepting as I hear Dalton is. I want to change, Kurt, I want to so bad.

I want to prove to you that I can be normal.

I didn't mean to turn this letter into a pity party for me, but I just want you to know that you're not alone. I mean, I'm a little crazy and you have no reason to trust me, but I can be here for you. When I get out of here, I would really like to see you – somewhere completely public and safe where nothing can happen, I promise – so that I can tell you, in person, how sorry I am. With your consent, of course.

I'm sorry for what I did to you and Blaine, but more specifically you. I'm sorry for your dad, and I hope he gets better soon. I would say that I'm praying for him, but I don't believe in God. I mean, what kind of shitty guy would make me gay and then tell me I chose it? Makes no sense. Anyway, I'm just…I'm just sorry.

Though I know it probably won't, I hope this helps. I'm so incredibly sorry for everything that's happened to you, Kurt. I know this sounds like a rapid reformation but you've shown me that it can be okay, Kurt, that it can be okay to be gay. Before you, I didn't have any hope and, well, you've changed me. In more ways than one.

My thoughts are with you – in a non-creepy way.

David.

Kurt just stared at the paper for a long time. It could have been hours, days, weeks. It felt endless. He gaped at the letter, half-expecting the words to jump out of the paper and slap him in the face, saying that it was all a joke.

This didn't feel real. Was it possible – was it really, really possible – that David was sorry?

And if so, could Kurt ever forgive him? Kurt settled back into his father's chair, grabbing a notebook and pen from the coffee table that sat in the middle of the living room. He looked at the paper for a while before, seemingly of its own accord, his hand picked up the pen and he began to write back to David.

One thing was clear in his mind the whole time – he may eventually forgive Karofsky, but he would never forget.