Burt Hummel was sitting in the doctors office. He was rubbing his hand across his face.

"I-I just don't know what to do. Is two years enough? Too much? Too little?" he rambled to the doctor. The woman across from him, Kurt's pediatrician, was sitting on the tiny folding chair in the little doctor's office.

"I can't tell you---" she started.

"It's just it's like he's gone. He barely does anything anymore. He just sits in his room, singing these sad songs," Burt frowned, staring out the clear plexiglassed wall to his son. While the other children were either playing with the boring, out dated toys or clinging to their parents in the waiting room, his Kurt was just sitting in a chair, hands folded in his lap, his feet swinging slightly in his short sleeved white shirt and his snappy vest with a newsboy hat upon his head; Kurt Hummel, always a lover of clothes.

"He sings?"

"Huh? Oh yes. Quite good really, though I wished he sang more happier songs."

The doctor opened a drawer and rumaged through some papers. "Aaah here it is!" she pulled out a pamphlet. "Try this."

"Summer Glee Camp?" Burt questioned. He opened it up and squinted at the printed words. "In New York. That's far from here."

"Well---Yes. It's in Poughkeepsie, just an hour away from Manhattan. It's a summer camp for children who are interested in theater."

"I never said he was."

"No, but if Kurt likes to sing, this might take his mind off his mother. This camp also includes similar camp activities like sports and arts and crafts and other things to keep his mind busy."

Burt nodded. He scanned the pamphlet again. "A nine hour bus ride ... Whoa that's a lot of money," he blinked.

The doctor nodded. "Yes but the local elementry schools are holding fund raisers. I'm sure if you explain you and Kurt's situation, they'll help you out."

Burt nodded yet again. He stared at the pamphlet, willing it to help his son. "I'll talk to Kurt about it.
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"You're getting rid of me?" Kurt's high voice got even higher, his nerves breaking. He was sitting behind his father in the car. Burt decided to talk about the doctor's idea.

"No! Of course not! It's just a suggestion. I know how much you like to sing---"

"And dance?"

"And dance. And this camp has all these things for you. And it's in New York! Haven't you always begged me to take you to see a Boardway play?" He stopped at a red light, making sure the brouchure mentioned seeing a Boardway play----Oh there it was, Beauty and the Beast.

Kurt nodded, squirming in his seat.

"And there'll be other kid there your age. A whole group of Ohiers are coming." The doctor had given him a list of children from the Ohio area, most of them from their little town of Lima. "Look, I just need to know soon, so I can tell the people you're com---"

"I want to go please." There was a pinch of excitement in his voice.

Burt Hummel had to smile. "Okay kiddo, I'll call them the second we get home.
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After hours of bake sales and and candy sales which resulted in only paying the $150 deposit, Kurt was now lunging his suitcase filled with clothes, a Chewbaca backpack filled with personal items, and a pillow and blanket folded neatly ontop. He was standing in line wearing a light long sleeve shirt and demin shorts. His small frame was exxagerated by some of the bigger kids around him. He gripped his dad's hand as the were called next in line, ready to sign in.

"Hi I'm Burt Hummel and this is my son Kurt," his father said, scanning the list of names.

"Hummel Hummel Hummel... H-U-M-M-E-L?" the woman at the table spelled. Burt gave her a nod and she smiled, checking Kurt's name off. "Okay sweetie we'll just put your luggage in the trunk and you can take you pillow and blanket. Want us to take your backpack too?" Kurt shook his head furiously. "No? Okay then. Have a fun trip! Next!" she called to the next person; another boy bigger than Kurt but looked as awkward as a girraffe. Kurt was led to the bus doors, where he peeked inside.

"Alright buddy, this is it. I'll see you at the end of the summer," Burt pulled his son into a hug. Kurt tried to squeeze his dad into a hug, but his small arms couldn't reach around. "I"ll write to you once a week okay?" Kurt nodded at his father. "Good. I know you'll have fun Kurt. Try and make some friends, okay?" Kurt nodded again. "Alright kiddo," Burt kissed his son's forehead. "Have fun."

Kurt gave one last nod before climbing onto the bus. It was big and fancy, not like the crummy school bus he rode to school everyday. Finding a pair of empty seats, Kurt plopped himself into the window seat and stared out. He saw his dad and waved to him, happy to see his father waved back excitedly. He gave a small smile and relaxed in the seat. That is, until he heard the cushion next to him sink.

"I'm Mercedes Jones, who are you?" This little chubby girl asked loudly. She had her hair down and her chocolate colored skin contrasted with Kurt's milk white tone.

Kurt just sat there, frozen a bit. He stared at Mercedes like she was a serial killer.

"Cat got your tongue?" she poked him.

"Stttoooop!" Kurt swatted her hand away. "I'm Kurt. Hummel," he squeaked.

"Whoa!" Another voice, this time it came from the seat in front of him. A small boy popped up, sporting a short mohawk. Like Mercedes, this boy had a slight tan. "It's Mickey Mouse!" he teased.

Kurt sank into his chair and blushed red. But as soon as the boy said it, another girl slapped his arm. "Puuuuuck! Stop being mean!" the little girl snapped. She looked like a old Italian gramma in her drab wear, and had an large nose for a little girl. Her brown hair was in a ponytail that swayed as she poked Puck.

"Awe c'mon Rachel I was only play---" Puck tried to defend himself, but was cut off by a woman in front. She had bright orange hair and looked like a mouse caught in an outlet.

"Okay that's everyone kids! Are you ready to get this trip started?" she smiled to readily. A chorus of 'Yes ma'am's' echoed back. "Good good. My name is Ms. Pillsbury, and this is my helper Mr. Schuester---"

"You can just call me Mr. Schue." The man infront smiled, looking almost to young to be considered an adult.

"Well yes. So please, this is a long bus ride. Let's all get along and be nice and listen to the adults, okay?" Ms. Pillsbury smiled again. A lousy echo of yes's cam back to her. Satisfied, she sat down and the bus started rolling.

"This is going to be fun I just know it!" Mercedes grinned at Kurt. "You're awfully quiet." Kurt just shrugged. "I'm gunna have to do all the talking then!" "Oh jeez---" "What!?" "N-nothing!" Kurt went wide eyed. With Mercedes next to him and Puck and Rachel bickering infront of them, this was going to be a long bus ride.
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"Wait wait wait! You never told me your mother died!" Blaine blinked, his voice stopping Kurt memory.

"Yes. When I was eight." Kurt tightened his lips, not really wanting to brush the subject.

"Oh my God, that must have been terrible..."

"Yes." Kurt said through his teeth, hopefully warning Blaine. Blaine looked confused until making an 'O' with his mouth, gathering the hint.

"Well, I'm sorry."

Again. Kurt shifted uncomfortably. There was an awkward silence looming over them.

"Well," Blaine broke the silence. "Go on!"

"I thought you were telling the story?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"You have all the backgroun---" Blaine was interuppted by the door swinging open. Wes and David stood in the hallway, laughing and smiling.

"C'mon you too, the meeting is starting soon," Wes waved them over. Both Kurt and Blaine nodded. Before leaving Blaine looked at Kurt. "Same time tomorrow. I want to hear the rest of the story. Up until my part."

Kurt sighed heavily but smiled. "Fine. I guess I have no choice."