"Bye, Artie!" Penny screamed, opening the window of Walter's car as her partner started the engine.

"Bye, Penny!" Artie waved. "I'll call later if I discover anything new!"

The hacker had a lot of work to do. He made a list of all the hackers he knew who were capable of hacking Androids and would investigate them, one by one; trying to find out if they had been involved in Kurt's creation. And there were also samples of the android's tissues and endoskeleton waiting to be analyzed and catalogued. Hell, Artie hadn't ever had this much work waiting for him since the last time he hacked Avalon Industries', and to do that had required months of sleep deprivation and a diet that consisted basically of red vines and coffee.

Okay, Artie definitely needed to make some calls, his red vines suppler needed to know that he was working on a new project.

And even if Penny and Walter weren't exactly planning on implementing Artie's endless journey through work or his red vine based diet, they also had a lot of work waiting for them. Earlier that day, Josh Davis, the legist responsible for Burt's necropsy, sent a message to Walter's cell phone asking to him come to the morgue soon as possible. And with everything that had happened, they also hadn't finished the analysis of the evidence collected in Burt's house yet. So there was evidence to be organized, reports to be written, but above all that, there were questions to be asked, especially for Kurt. Walter needed some answers from him. He needed to know the if Burt's behavior had changed in his last few days of life, if his dad had seemed anxious, threatened, as if someone had contacted him, and also the reason why the android had said Der Kleine Prinz when they had asked him his access code.

"So Kurt, when you were sick…" Walter cleared his throat, "Artie needed your system's access code-"

"Access code?" the android frowned. Walter nodded. "And I told you guys my access code?" He asked, unbelievably. How was that even possible? He didn't even know he was a robot until four days ago, how could he have given Walter an access code to his system?

"Well, you didn't give us your access code, but you gave us something that helped us figure out your access code. You said, "Der Kleine Prinz", which means-"

"The Little Prince in German," Kurt interrupted him.

"Yes, can you explain why you said that when we asked for your access code? When I asked you what was important enough for your dad to have made the access code, you said Der Kleine Prinz."

Kurt bit his lip, looking down. "Almost a year ago, a man came to visit my dad…"

"A man?" Penny interrupted.

"Yes, his name was G�nther, he wasn't American though, I-I think he was German. He showed up in the middle of night, it was raining and he was completely soaked, but my dad still hugged him, very moved by this guy's visit, as if this man was his oldest and dearest friend. He introduced him to me as an old collaborator. My dad always told me he worked designing industrials robots…" Kurt explained. Burt used to spend hours locked in his lab with the excuse that he was developing improvements for industrial robots, when in reality he was working on upgrades for his son's system.

"So you dad told you that G�nther was a coworker?" Walter asked and Kurt nodded. "They locked themselves in dad's lab for hours, I tried to hear their conversation but they weren't talking English. I-I didn't even know my dad could speak German…" Kurt took a deep breath, he felt like an idiot for not have questioned anything, for have been fooled so easily. "Anyways, this G�nther guy, he seemed really scared and anxious… He constantly looked at his cell phone and every time he entered a room you could see how his eyes scanned the whole place as if he was always making sure there was an easy escape-"

"So you think he was running from something?" Penny asked.

"Maybe… I-I don't know, he didn't look like a bad guy, he just seem scared, really scared. And when he was saying farewell, he gave me this book, the German version of "The Little Prince", Der Kleine Prinz and said that if I ever needed answers, this book would help me…"

Penny gasped "Did you ever read this book? Was there anything strange or unusual in it or anything like that?"

"I don't think so. I never really paid attention to that book. It was in German and I didn't know German. My dad said he would teach me so I could read it, but as time passed and he ended forgetting, and so did I…" Kurt trailed off. Now he regretted not having paid more attention to that book, but how the hell was he supposed to know it could have been an important piece to solve the puzzle of his origins? That isn't exactly something you consider when someone gives you a book. And honestly, when the man had told him to look for answers in the book, he thought that G�nther was talking about all the philosophic questions present in Antoine de Saint-Exup�ry's work.

"We are so going to get our hands on this book tomorrow," Penny said, already planning how they were going to steal the book from the FDTC evidences' deposit. Well Bob, the Deposit's janitor, had always had this little crush on her…

"Can you describe this man? Do you remember his last name, if he had a birth mark, a tattoo, or anything else that can help us find him?" Walter asked, his Homicide detective side already kicking in. They had their first suspect, a man, who was apparently German and also Burt's friend and who was obviously involved in Kurt's building. There was no way that it was only a coincidence that this G�nther guy gave Kurt a book whose first edition came out in 1943, which was his access code.

"Like I said, he had this really strong accent, I think he was German…" Kurt forced himself to remember the man's features "He was white, really tall, blue eyed, his hair was long and strawberry blond, he had this scar in his left cheek… And he wore glasses! Big glasses…"

"And what was his surname?" Penny asked, taking notes on the small purple notebook she always carried around.

"I don't remember. I don't think my dad told me his last name when he introduced us…I-" He tried to evoke more details about the man, something useful, anything, when unexpectedly he felt a shooting pain in his head. Kurt closed his eyes, whining with the sudden pain, feeling dizzy.

"Kurt! What's wrong?" He heard Penny call, worried before she began to scream to Walter to stop the car.

The android shook his head. "No, no, no, there is no need. It's just a headache…" The android murmured.

"Kurt if you want, we can go back to Artie's," Walter offered.

"No, I'm fine," Kurt said massaging, his temples "There's no need to stop the car or go back to Artie's, it was just a headache. I swear." He lied. It wasn't just a headache, it was a hell of a headache, but fortunately it was already fading away "So G�nther, he-"

"Kurt, stop." Walter interrupted him. "You are going to rest so you can recover. okay? We can talk about G�nther later." he said and Penny smiled at him, silently thanking Walter for not pushing the subject in respect of Kurt's recovery.

The android was still fragile and even if Walter's Homicide detective side was already kicking in again, unlike what had already happened in the past, this time the federal agent wouldn't let the case become bigger than its victim. And the biggest victim was Kurt. The boy had been fooled, had had his memories changed and had almost died in a failed attempt to erase evidence of someone's participation in his building. The last four days had been nothing but chaotic for him, and he needed some time to recover his strength, some rest before Walter put him through an interrogation.

"Are you sure you don't want us to take you back to Artie's?" Penny asked Kurt.

"Yes, I'm sure," He said and shrugged but the ginger woman gave him and unbelieving look. "I'm fine, Penny really… My headache is already fading away." he insisted.

"Alright then, but if you feel cold again please let us know right away." Walter enforced, looking at Kurt's eyes through the rearview mirror.

"Guys, I swear I'm fine. I just need some rest." Kurt assured them. His headache was really fading away and yes, he still felt a little weak and he was a little paler than usual, but he knew that as soon as he'd take a nice shower and sleep for a while he would be as good as new.

"We believe you, but please if you feel sick, don't hide it from us." Walter pleaded. He really cared about Kurt. He couldn't explain why he just felt so responsible for that boy.

He couldn't bring himself to care about the fact that he was risking everything, his job, his freedom, his own life, only to help Kurt. This strong and extremely fashionable android that had entered Walter's life in the most unimaginable way was turning everything upside down, putting in check everything the federal agent believed in, and was forcing Walter do things he never had even considered doing, like becoming allies with A. Abrams or watching a Star Wars marathon sitting on a hacker's couch, discussing a case with him.

The way Walter was feeling was kind of ironic. He felt like he was doing the first right thing in years, because by the eyes of the law, what he was doing was wrong and undeniably illegal. But honestly, Walter had given up counting how many laws he had broken when he invaded the apartment of A. Abrams, the biggest hacker in the country, carrying Kurt, the most advanced android in existence in his arms and trying to find a way to get him fixed.

After that it seemed kind of pointless to take note of all the illegal technology he had seen or how many partnership norms he had disrespected by allowing Penny to sleep curled up at his side, using his shoulder as a pillow, because apparently while she was asleep, the ginger woman didn't quite understand the concept of personal space or inappropriate closeness. Anyways, the point was, even after the laws and rules Walter had transgressed in the past four days, he still couldn't help but feel that for the first time since the birth of his sons, he was part of something good, something bigger than his damn position as a man of the law. He was saving a boy's life, shouldn't be that more important than some stupid federal decrees?

"You know who is going to be really happy to see you?" Walter asked Kurt, his eyes fixed on the road.

The android opened his month to answer, but then he closed it again. He tried to think of someone, but besides Walter, Penny and now Artie, he couldn't think of anyone who would care about his welfare. So he gave up. "I can't think of anyone," he said in a small voice, a pang of sadness perceptible in his words.

"What about Blaine?" Walter offered "He will be thrilled to see you well!"

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows together. Was Walter high on coffee or something like that? "Are we talking about Blaine Anderson? Your son? The one who always wears that leather jacket and who refers to me as "the Ice queen"?" He asked unbelievably.

Blaine didn't like him. He didn't give a damn about Kurt. He would probably be glad to have the room to himself, Kurt thought sulkily, but the thought soon dissipated as he noticed how bitter and unfair he sounded. No one was so cold hearted to the point of feeling happy about another's person distress because of a room, not even Blaine with his whole "this bed is mine, touch it and you die," attitude.

"You know, he was really worried about you. He was the one who took care of you and kept you warm until Walter and I took you to Artie," Penny said, making Kurt's features assume a shocked expression, his mouth falling in a perfect "o" shape. What was Penny talking about? He remembered someone holding him, someone with hazel eyes, but he had thought it was Walter. He would be lying if he said he didn't consider, for less than a fraction of a second, that the owner of those hazel eyes was Blaine, but he had been dizzy and feeling weak. He hadn't been in his right mind, and soon he had pushed those thoughts away. Such attitude didn't match the image he had already made of Walter's son. Actually, it didn't match the image that Blaine himself had insisted on maintaining.

"Are you sure about that?" He asked and Penny nodded. "Yep, he held you the whole time." she said matter-of-factly.

Kurt chewed on his lower lip. Penny and Walter kept talking. The ginger girl asked if her partner could stop by a convenience store before dropping her off home because she needed to buy more green tea. When he said no, she looked at Kurt and asked him to help her convince Walter about the importance of the green tea, but the android wasn't paying attention to their conversation as he was too absorbed in his own thoughts.

He felt confused. He may have been wrong about Blaine. There was the possibility that the boy wasn't the jerk Kurt thought he was. And knowing that caused all these unsettling feelings inside the android's chest. Kurt still couldn't quite figure out if how that information would change the way he felt about Blaine.

And now as he was stopping and thinking about it he couldn't help but furrow his eyebrows together again.

Because, wow, when did he begin to feel something in the first place?

*****

"You don't want me to go upstairs with you?" Quinn asked as Blaine got out of her car.

"No, I'm fine. You can go home," Blaine murmured, as he closed the door and offered Quinn, what could only be called an attempt at, a reassuring smile, (and a not very effective one).

"Are you sure?" Quinn asked.

"Yes, I'm sure." he answered and Quinn gave him another unbelieving glare. "I'm fine I swear!" Blaine lied. He wasn't fine, he was far from it. His stomach was burning with anxiousness, his heart felt tight inside his chest and his hands were sweating and cold. Blaine was nervous and afraid of what he would find when he got home and of how much it would affect him.

"I know you want to go see Puck, so just go already," he scoffed.

"Blaine, you know that you don't need to face whatever is waiting for you in that apartment alone, right?" Quinn wouldn't push him; it was Blaine's decision, if he thought he could face Walter alone, she would give him space. "Let me know what happens, okay? Call me, text me, send me a smoke signal, I don't care how, just let me know how you're doing."

"And disturb your hot date with Puckerman? I don't think so," Blaine sneered, receiving a harsh glare from Quinn. She pressed her red lips in a thin line, clearly annoyed by his comment.

"You're an asshole," She retorted, starting the engine of her car. "But still, don't forget to call me!"

"Alright, alright," He nodded. "And tell Puckerman I said hi!"

She gave him another dirty look before turning on her radio. Pearl Jam's Better Man began to play in the maximum volume. Blaine couldn't help but frown a little at the irony of that specific song beginning to play at the exact moment Quinn left to go see Puck, but he didn't say anything as his best friend drove away.

*****

Blaine opened the door of Walter's apartment, immediately smelling fresh tortillas. He closed the door, his triangular eyebrows furrowed together. Walter was cooking? The radio was on and Robert Plant's voice echoed throughout the apartment as his dad sang along to Stairway to Heaven. Okay….What the hell was happening here? Walter wasn't only cooking, but singing? Blaine dropped his keys on the coffee table and called for Walter, but his father didn't hear him because the music was too loud.

Blaine's first impulse was to run into the kitchen, ask how Kurt was, what had happened, but he hesitated, his feet seeming glued to the ground.

His dad was singing and cooking, and more than anything Blaine wanted to believe that that was a sign that everything was fine and that Kurt was okay. But no matter how much evidence pointed towards the best, it was still hard for Blaine move his legs, to go to the kitchen and confront Walter.

He had lost his faith in his father a long time ago. And his brain was already coming up with all kinds of theories. After all, he didn't know how his father coped with loss. His dad didn't stick around long enough after Cooper's death for Blaine to be able to tell how his father mourned. Maybe cooking and listening to classic rock was his dad's way of feeling better. It could be, right? Well, not really, but still, It was just one or two promises Walter hadn't fulfilled, were ten years of empty promises, ten of absence. Blaine was just so used to disappointment, that even when everything indicated that Walter had finally fulfilled one of his promises it was still easier for him to came up with theories about Walter's mourning than allow himself to trust his dad again.

He took a deep breath. "Stop being such a pussy about this Anderson," He murmured to himself, forcing his legs to move. Everything was okay. Walter was singing and cooking. He shouldn't be so worked up about this. He had spent the whole afternoon regaining control of all the mess inside of his chest, burying deeply all the feelings and memories that the alcohol had unchained inside of him the previous night.

Blaine finally walked into the kitchen. "Walter," He called as soon as he reached the doorstep of the kitchen.

Walter turned around and smiled at him. And suddenly Blaine felt the corners of his own lips involuntarily lift a little in response. Walter was smiling at him, he was smiling, holding a spoon and wearing a damn apron, and Blaine had never thought that the first time his dad would do anything for him in ten years, he would be dressed like that, but there he was, wearing a fucking baby blue apron, smiling at him, silently assuring him that he hadn't screwed up things up this time, that he had finally-finally- fulfilled one of his promises. And damn it, was hard for Blaine contain himself and not grin goofily, like he used to do when his father would read him a bedtime story or throw him in the air only to catch him and promise he would never let Blaine fall.

A warm feeling spread through the boy's chest, a warm and conflicting feeling. It had been so long since the last time he had looked at Walter and allowed himself to see this man as his father. Blaine still didn't know if he was going to able to hold on to that feeling, to keep seeing his dad in that way, but at least for now, for a moment or two, Blaine allowed himself to love his dad again.

"Where's-"

"Resting," Walter said, interrupting his son.

Blaine looked at Walter, feeling like he should say something, do something, maybe walk the empty distance separating them and hug Walter.

But he didn't, Blaine remained motionless, hands buried in his pockets. He just couldn't bring himself to do such a thing. A demonstration of affection such as that towards Walter still seemed like a concept too foreign for Blaine. What he was allowing himself to feel towards his dad, that affection, that warmth, was still not even near strong enough to break the invisible walls separating them.

Walter noticed Blaine's hesitation. He saw the way his son was struggling to not smile or show affection towards him. And that caused a small twinge in his chest, but he knew his son was only trying to protect himself from future disappointment. Walter couldn't just expect Blaine to forget all his past mistakes and just go back to be the lovely little boy he had once been just because of one fulfilled promise. Sure it was a hell of a promise; bringing Kurt back, but still, it was one fulfilled promise versus ten years of absence.

It wouldn't be that easy to win his son's trust and love again. It would be a long and probably hurtful process, but Walter was willing to give it a try. His son was worth it. Blaine may not behave as if he was, but to Walter, Blaine was everything but worthless.

"Go call Kurt and tell him that the tortillas are almost ready," Walter said, offering Blaine a way to get out of that situation. With time, he would regain his trust and one day Blaine would come to him without hesitation or doubts.

Blaine nodded, hands still in his pockets. He hadn't taken a single step further in Walter's direction and left the kitchen, but that didn't prevent the federal from feeling more closer to his son than he had in the past ten years.

*****

When Blaine finally opened the door of the room, after certain difficulty, because that damn door just didn't cooperate at all, his eyes landed on Kurt who was sitting on his bed wearing gray pajamas. And God, he looked better, not 100% better, but at least he didn't look like a victim of hypothermia, blue and unconscious, like the last time Blaine had seen him. Kurt looked healthier. The boy seemed slightly frustrated and looked as if he had just stepped out of the shower, which he probably had, since his hair was wet and the room was smelling like fresh soap.

"Hi," Blaine said, because he couldn't think of anything less monosyllabic.

"Hey," Kurt murmured the corners of mouth lifting a little, before he looked down at the bed he was sitting on and practically jump off of it as if it were on fire.

Blaine felt a little bad about that. "So …How are you?"

"I'm fine," Kurt murmured biting his lower lip. Blaine seemed different. His body language wasn't the same. It was almost as if he was timid around Kurt, all the cockiness that before appeared to be implied in every one of the boy's gestures now seemed to have been replaced by something else, something that Kurt couldn't quite put a finger on.

Maybe Penny wasn't lying to him when she said Blaine had taken care of him. Maybe there was something in Blaine beyond the leather jacket and the ruthless fa�ade. Kurt cleaned his throat. "So uh…Penny said you were there for me and … took care of me. So I guess I should thank you?" he murmured, looking expectedly at Blaine.

Blaine looked at his shoes. Penny had said what? That he had taken care of him? Blaine didn't take care of him, he just, you know, held Kurt until Walter got home. No biggie. He was Blaine Anderson for God's sake! He didn't do anything for anyone…

Blaine snorted. "Don't get any wrong ideas, you handcuffed genius. I just kept you awake until they got home." And yes, after that, he had had an emotional breakdown, but Kurt didn't need to know that part, right? And besides, the emotional breakdown had nothing to do with Kurt. It had happened because of Cooper's death, Walter's abandonment and all the crap Blaine had been through in past ten years. Not because of Kurt. Not even the tiniest little bit.

"Oh," Kurt looked down. Of course Blaine wouldn't have taken care of him. He held you the whole time, Penny said, he will be thrilled to see you well, Walter had assured him. Yeah right. Because that was definitely something that Blaine freaking Anderson would do, hold him close and take care of him. "Well thank you anyway," he said in a small voice.

"What was wrong with you?" Blaine asked, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He didn't understand why he was feeling that way. Why did he feel like he was omitting something? He was just telling the truth. He had just kept Kurt awake, didn't he?

"I had a…a hypoglycemic crisis!" Kurt lied, because he couldn't just say that he had a defect in his system that had caused it to stop working. Oh, by the way, I'm a robot. He let out a humorless laugh. God, could he be any more pathetic?

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "A hypoglycemic crisis?"

"Yes," Kurt nodded "A very severe hypoglycemic crisis," he explained, kind of proud by how well he was lying. Hypoglycemia? Well it wasn't very convincing, but it definitely sounded a lot better than, "I was playing with Walter detective's things and handcuffed myself," because that had been really lame. And at least this time, his lie didn't make him seem like a complete idiot, a handcuffed genius.

Blaine furrowed his triangular eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't believe Kurt's story, he didn't believed it at all. And regardless of what Blaine had been desperately trying to convince himself of, he had taken care of Kurt. He had held him in his arms and had felt the boy's skin against his own. Kurt had been cold, dreadfully cold, as if he was dying. And Blaine was sure he had seen Kurt eat at least five pancakes covered with honey for breakfast. How the hell could Kurt have suffered with low levels of sugar after eating five pancakes covered in honey?

"And who's A. Abrams? Penny insisted to take you to him after your hypoglycemic crisis," Blaine asked. If Kurt, like he had said himself, had had a hypoglycemic crisis, Walter's reluctance to take him to a hospital didn't make sense. Any doctor in any hospital could threat a hypoglycemic crisis. It didn't require a specialist.

A. Abrams? Kurt thought, biting his lower lip. Who the hell was Blaine talking about? The android panicked for the briefest second before finally remembering Artie's surname. Oh!

"My doctor! Dr. Abrams is my doctor!" Kurt exclaimed. "He's been taking care of me for a long time so he knows everything about my medical history. That's why Penny insisted I should see him."

"Actually, if I'm not mistaken, her argument was, "A. Abrams is Kurt's only choice"" Blaine quoted, and Kurt was tempted to ask him why he was asking so many questions if he didn't care, but the android bit his tongue.

"Penny can be really dramatic sometimes," He shrugged "She should be an actress or something because boy, she loves a drama!"

Blaine gave him another skeptical look but before he had the time to ask any more questions, Walter called them from the kitchen.

"Boys, the tortillas are ready!"

"Did you hear that? The tortillas are ready!" Kurt squealed nervously. "I love tortillas! Let's eat tortillas!" He said in a singing tone as he stood up. He didn't even like tortillas that much, but he would be excited to eat pretty much anything Walter served them if that got him out of answering Blaine's questions. He couldn't explain why, it wasn't because he feared that Blaine would denounce him, Walter wouldn't let his son do such thing, but Kurt still didn't want the other boy to know what he was. He just didn't want Blaine looking down at him.

Kurt smiled nervously, walking in the door's direction, trying to get out of that room, but Blaine blocked his way and grabbed the boy's arm. Kurt looked at him and felt his breath get stuck in his throat. They were so close, Blaine holding his arm, and their eyes locked. Suddenly the air felt heavier and Kurt began to notice all these small and stupid details he shouldn't be noticing in Blaine's features, like how delicate the boy's eyelashes were or the small scar above his left eyebrow that Kurt wanted to trace with his fingertips… And how come Kurt had never noticed those green spots in the hazel of Blaine's eyes?

"The bed," Blaine breathed, bringing Kurt back to reality.

Wait what? The bed? Kurt had to shake his head and break eye contact with him just so he could realize what Blaine had said. "W-what did you say?" he whispered.

Blaine cleared his throat. "You can, you know, sleep in my bed while you recover," he said, looking away and Kurt could almost swear that Blaine blushed a bit. Okay, Blaine had to make up his mind. He was so confusing. One moment he'd behave like a total jerk, calling Kurt Ice queen and imposing his stupid rules, and in the other, he acted like this, almost as if he did care.

"O-okay," Kurt nodded. He looked for Blaine's eyes, but the boy was looking away.

"But only until you get better!" Blaine blurted out, ruining the moment. "After that, the bed is mine. Do you understand me?" He said with a serious, almost threatening expression on his face. Kurt raised an eyebrow at that. This boy must be bipolar or something, that's the only explanation.

Blaine let go of his arm and hastily walked away.

Well at least this time he didn't call you Ice Queen, the android considered, following Blaine to the kitchen. I think that can be considered as progress.

***

Walter fulfilled his promise… – B was what the text that Blaine had sent to his best friend hours later. Quinn's cell phone buzzed on Puckerman's nightstand, waking her up.

Quinn disentangled herself from Noah's arms, pushing away the comforter covering them. Puck whined something about it being cold and she threw a pillow at him. She sat up at the side of her bed and checked her phone. A satisfied smile flashed across the girl's pierced lips as she read her best friend's text. Quickly Quinn typed a reply.

Of course he fulfilled his promised! Didn't I promise everything would be okay? ;) – Q.

Oh sorry, I forgot the universe only works the way you tell it to. – B, He replied making her chuckle a little.

Duh – Q, She answered, before placing her purple phone back on the nightstand.

"Hey Puck," she said, poking the boy's side. He looked at her through his partly opened eyes. "What?" he grunted, his voice still husky from sleep.

"Wake up," She whispered, a mischievous expression on her face.

"I want to celebrate."

"Wait…what?" He frowned as she rolled on top of him and began to unbutton her flannel shirt.

Puck rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust his vision. "I'm feeling kind of used," He mumbled, yawning. Quinn laughed, tossing her favorite shirt across the room, not caring where it landed. "Just shut up, Puckerman," She laughed, her warm breath ghosting the junction of his neck and shoulder.

"So I guess your hobbit is better now, isn't he?" Puckerman concluded, rolling his eyes. He couldn't believe he was getting laid because of Blaine Anderson.

"I said shut up," Quinn scoffed, not giving further explanations.

But Puck didn't need any more explanations. The way the corners of Quinn's lips were lifting happily confirmed Puck's theories. She definitely wanted to celebrate the hobbit's recovery. And that kind of ruined his mood, but only for like 5 seconds because soon, Quinn had smashed her lips on his, their teeth clacking and lips stinging with such want, that Puckerman considered thanking Blaine the next time they saw each other.

***

If there was a word to describe how the rest of the night went, the word would be awkward.

The awkwardness began during dinner. Kurt didn't have any idea how he was supposed to behave. Walter spent the whole time with this content smile ghosting the corners of his lips while his son mood's oscillated between seeming a bit more relaxed around his father and completely unreachable as usual.

The boys then went to their room and Kurt found himself standing in the middle of the room staring at the bed, not really sure if Blaine had really meant what he had said earlier, or if that was some kind of joke or prank. He only allowed himself to get on the bed as soon as Blaine entered the room carrying Walter's old futon and asked Kurt why the hell he was staring the bed. After that, it took a matter of seconds for Kurt to get under the covers, trying to hide the blush spreading throughout his cheeks.

Why had Burt given him the ability to blush, anyways? He could have given him lasers or super strength, but no, Burt made Kurt capable of blushing, an ability that most people would get rid of if they could.

That night, Kurt, who'd usually roll from side to side at least 100 times before finally managing to sleep remained completely immobile, the comforter tucked under his chin, him facing the wall, back turned to Blaine. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Why couldn't he sleep and how come suddenly he appeared to be capable of hearing every breath the other boy took?

Damn, why does he have to breathe so loudly? Kurt cursed under his breath, trying to push away the thought that, just like him, Blaine also wasn't sleeping.

He had to push those thoughts away, because even if Blaine's breathing wasn't deep or as regular as it would be expected from someone who was asleep, that didn't mean that he wasn't sleeping. Just like how the android could practically feel the other boy's eyes on him also didn't mean anything, just that Kurt had a fertile imagination. Not that he was actually thinking much about Blaine, no, and Blaine definitely wasn't the reason why Kurt couldn't sleep. It just was insomnia, it happened to everyone occasionally. And it didn't have anything to do with the fact that the mattress of his bed smelled like coffee, nicotine and something else that only could be described as Blaine.

"Yep, most awkward night ever. Kurt grunted groggily before finally surrendering to sleep only two hours before Walter's alarm began to echo, announcing that was time to wake up.

***

"You guys look like you didn't sleep at all…" Walter observed, taking a bite of his waffle. There was something off, the boys had bags under their eyes and breakfast had been oddly quiet. Blaine didn't make any comment or complain about the food and Kurt didn't even notice the cherry that Walter had put on top of his waffles.

"I slept well," Kurt said a little too quickly. "Really well, like the whole night."

Blaine nodded. "Same here," he mumbled not really looking into his father's eyes. "You know, sleeping in a futon is certainly an underestimated experience," he said, making Walter raise an eyebrow. Was that sarcasm? The federal agent wondered. Walter really couldn't tell, but he smiled anyway. It was nice seeing Blaine use big words again. If he ignored the piercings and the clothes it was almost like having his little dapper boy back.

"Today, I have to go to work earlier than usual, so I won't be able to give you a ride, Blaine."

"No problem, Quinn's going to give me a ride, and we're going to get my car after school," Blaine explained taking a bite of his grilled cheese sandwich. "But why are you going to have to go to work earlier than usual, Walter? Too much technology needing to be seized from its owners?" He mocked, his mouth full of food. He always thought his father went to the FDTC to escape the mess of Homicide Department. He couldn't believe Walter was still a workaholic, even when his job just required him to seize illegal forms of technology.

"I-I…" Walter tried to explain, but Kurt cut him off.

"You're going to the morgue, aren't you?" The android asked, his voice thick, lumps forming in his throat.

Walter nodded, and Kurt looked away, biting his lip.

"I-I'm not hungry anymore," he murmured "The food was great Walter, thank you," He stood hastily and accidentally knocked down the bottle of honey. The golden substance spread all over the table cloth.

"Shit!" Kurt cursed. Blaine looked at him and furrowed his eyebrows. He had never heard Kurt swear before.

Kurt tried to clean the sticky mess using napkins, but his hands were trembling and he ended making an even bigger mess. He could feel Walter and Blaine's eyes on him, staring at him while he was being a clumsy idiot and as if he wasn't already making enough fool of himself, Kurt also knocked the bottle of strawberry syrup, which stained the white cotton of Walter's table cloth with vivid red. He bit his lip. Everything was just so wrong and it only getting worse, and there were hazel eyes staring him as if he was some freak. Tears burned his eyes and his dad was far away from there, dead, locked inside of a metal drawer in some morgue…

"Kurt!" Walter called, grabbing one of the boy's wrists and bringing him back to reality. "I'll clean this for you," he murmured taking the napkins from the boy's trembling hands. "Just go wash your hands and I'll clean this mess," Kurt looked at him, teary eyed, "Thank you," he murmured, his voice cracking.

The android practically flew in the bathroom's direction, hands sticky with honey, biting back tears as his cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"It was just me or he kind of freaked out over that?" Blaine asked, looking at the mess on Walter's table cloth.

Walter sighed. "Blaine…"

"What?" Blaine said. "He did get all disturbed after he knocked down the honey-"

"He is just going through a tough time," Walter interrupted his son as he grabbed a damp cloth in the sink "Just don't-"

"Don't what?" Blaine shouted. He hadn't done anything wrong.

"Just don't ask questions, give him some space, don't act like a jerk around him-"

"What?" Blaine gasped. What was Walter talking about? "I didn't do anything wrong! It's not my fault he got all worked up because of a table cloth!"

Walter looked at his son. "I know Blaine, you didn't do anything wrong, just-" He sighed heavily. "Just don't treat him like a freak ok? He's had enough of that already,"

Blaine nodded. He didn't understand what was going on, why would Kurt feel like that? But Blaine did understand what feeling like a freak felt like.

In the eyes of almost everyone, Blaine Anderson was the definition of a freak.

***

The doorbell rang. Blaine looked up from his cell phone and stood up and grabbed his bag. Walter had already left, so Blaine was sure that it was Quinn. She was a little late, but it wasn't like he was eager to go to school.

"Hey Quinn," Blaine greeted, opening the door.

"Hey B," She smiled, trying to pass through the small space between Blaine and the doorway.

Blaine blocked her way. "What are you doing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Trying to get in," She explained in an obvious tone.

"I noticed that. What I don't understand is why you're trying to do that when we're late for school," He scoffed.

Quinn snorted. "You don't really expect me to believe that you're worried about school, right?" She said, trying to get past him but he blocked her way again.

"People change," He retorted.

"Yes and you already have changed, you used to care about school and now you don't, so get out of my way-"

"No!" He cried "Why do you want to enter Walter's apartment so badly?"

"You know why," She looked at him smugly through her purple sunglasses "I want to meet Kurt."

"Not going to happen," Blaine said, pushing her "We're late for school."

Quinn sighed heavily. Why did Blaine always force her to resort to violence? She kicked him in the shin, causing the boy to jump out of her way.

"Ouch! Quinn! Those are military boots! You can't kick people in the shin wearing military boots!" He hissed in pain, hopping on one foot.

"Oh Honey," she smiled, placing her hands on her hips "when you are going to learn that Quinn Fabray always gets what she wants?" She winked and turned her back to her friend.

She was going to meet this Kurt kid, and she was going to do it now.

TBC...