“Water, like religion and ideology, has the power to move millions of people. Since the very birth of human civilization, people have moved to settle close to it. People move when there is too little of it. People move when there is too much of it. People journey down it. People write, sing and dance about it. People fight over it. And all people, everywhere and every day, need it.” - Mikhail Gorbachev

Lullaby, and goodnight, with roses bedight...

Kurt was tumbling, weightless, lost in a warm, familiar darkness.  He was safe, he was secure, there was nothing that could hurt him.  He didn't have to make choices or suffer the consequences of them, all decisions were made for him.  Safe in the womb of his death, there was nothing else that could get him.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.  How I wonder what you are….

He began to see light, and yet, he didn't want to go near it.  Something was both pushing him and pulling him away from the bliss he had found towards it.  It seemed too far away, but it was coming at him so quickly.

Hush little baby, don't you cry….

A voice.  It was a voice drawing him out into the light.  A beautiful, lyrical, familiar voice.

His mother.

Baby, mine, don't you cry…

“Mom!  Momma! Where are you?!”

Kurt was standing now, free of the darkness and completed covered in light.  It was all he could see - endlessly bright.  No shadows, nothing else.  Just him spinning and looking for his mother in a gauzey haze of transparent gold.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night….

Then he spun once more and there she was, just as beautiful and radiant as she had always been to him.  She wasn't the image of death he had last seen her as, but the woman who always lulled him to sleep with songs, kissed his roughed up knees when he fell, and baked him cookies whenever he asked.  In fact, she looked younger - or maybe it was because Kurt was so much older now - but her chestnut hair fell in waves down around her and her green eyes glistened with so much love.  Love for him.

“Mom!”

He ran to her, embracing her and finding her just as real as he was… well, as anything was in this place.  He was as tall as she had been now, and he was so much broader.  Growing up he had never seen her as slight because she had been so much bigger than him then, but now it was obvious.

And those arms that held him and rocked him as a baby held him back and together mother and son made a muffled cry as they reunited.  

“I missed you so much momma…”

“My boy…”  She pulled back a little to look over his face, brushing loose hairs away from his forehead and cheeks as she scanned him over, “My beautiful baby boy.”

“Is dad here too?  Can we be together again?  A family again?”  Kurt asked, trying to glance into the lit fog around them to see if his dad would show up next.

“No baby boy…”  Her voice was sad and Kurt's heart fell.  Why wouldn't his father be there?  Was this afterlife nothing like what the religious preached?  Did his father have to go somewhere else?

“Momma…”

“Shh, shh, shh….”  She insisted, voice softening with each subsequent shh.  “I wish he were here with us.  I miss him too.”

“Why?  Why can't he be here with us?”

“Because he's gone sweet boy.”

Kurt looked at her blankly.  He didn't understand.  How could he?  Was this some afterlife terminology he would have to pick up?

“Come… sit with me.”

Kurt allowed himself to be led, through the light to a place somewhat dimmer, but still just as vacant.  His mother sat herself down on the floor and he followed, letting her draw him in and hold him against her as she hummed to him one of many songs he remembered as a child.

“I only can have you here for so long baby boy.  Let me enjoy it.”

His eyes snapped apart and he looked to her with trepidation, “What?  Why?  Why can't I stay with you?”

“Because I'm not really here baby boy.”

“I don't understand…”  He sat up and looked at her.  She looked real, she felt real, she even smelled real.

“I'm… here.”  She tapped his head, prompting his eyes to roll upwards to look at where her finger bopped him.

“I've gone crazy?”

She chuckled, “No baby boy. You're fine.”

This was so very confusing.  He looked around again and then let his eyes settle back on her, “I don't understand what's going on… I'm dead… right?”

The smile fell off her face and she looked over Kurt with the twinkle of tears visible in the corners of her eyes, “No baby boy.  Is that what you want?”

“I want to be with you and dad again.  I want peace.”

“Is that why when you saw that bullethole in you that you just accepted it?”

Is that what had happened?  A flash of memory came to him.  The wagon, the cries of those around, the blood flowing so freely from him.

“Yes.”

She glanced down, “Then I'm sorry baby boy.”

“How can I not be dead?”

She looked back up and pressed a hand to his chest.  He looked down at it there, his shirt torn and dried with blood, but there was no bullethole in him, no lasting mark, no pain, and no reason for him to be dead - at least not here in this place.

“When you were born I fought bitterly with your dad over your middle name… do you know why?”

Kurt's mouth twitched into a half smile.  He had heard the story, moreso after his mother died and his father told it as a way to keep her memory alive.  “You wanted me to have your name as my middle name and dad thought I'd be teased horribly for it… but you stuck to your guns… and then when you died, he said he felt like you always knew it would happen and that's why you wanted me to have your name… so I'd never be able to forget you.”

She smiled weakly, letting her hand fall back to her lap, “In a way.  A name has power Kurt.  When you took on my name, you took on a bit of me with it.  I didn't know what was coming when you were born, but I knew you were my miracle that wasn't supposed to be and I made sure you had every benefit of protection I could give you.”

Kurt tipped his head to the side, watching her for a moment before uttering, “What do you mean?”

His mother looked away, “Do you remember when I was teaching you about the different coins when you were in preschool?  How you were always so proud of yourself for knowing them except for one?”

It seemed the confusion wouldn't be alleviated anytime soon, not if anecdotes were part of the explanation.  He didn't remember his mother being so cryptic. “It was a long time ago mom….”

“Quarters… You could never remember the word quarter… and I thought that was always so fitting…”

“Mom…”

She looked back up at him, “See me Kurt.”

He shook his head, “What? I'm looking at you mom…”

“No.  Don't look.  See.”

Quarters… protection… miracles… power…

He blinked, and before him was his mother still - but taller, more waxen, and ears….

Kurt scuttled back on his hands and legs, “Mom!  No!”

“Baby boy…”

“You're one of them!  You're the reason dad died!”

Her face fell, and even though some of the features had become more accented, her face still held the same sincerity, and in that moment, the same pain.  “I would have died with him if I could.”

“They were right… they were always right….”  Kurt looked down at his hands, the only part of him he could see clearly as his eyes started to gloss over with tears, “...I'm a freak.  What's going on?  What's happening?!”

“I only have so much time with you Kurt… please… let me explain…”

“Why?  Why… why….”  His head snapped up to look at her again, tears bouncing off his cheekbones and to the air.  This wasn't right.  This couldn't be how things were.  It didn't make any sense.

“Please baby boy… calm down… let me tell you….”

“Dad's not here because he was human and we're… we're Others and in some other kind of afterlife… and I can't even be with him here… and to know this… and…”  He hiccupped mid sob, head shaking in disbelief.

“Oh Kurt!”  Arms were thrown around him, and Kurt let them.  Even if she was one of them, she was still his mother, and, apparently all he had here in the fog.  She rocked and eased Kurt through his sobs until his face was red and numb and his eyes were dried out, and he was ready to listen.

“What happened… shouldn't have happened… I should have lived and died with your father and you should have outlived us both.  You should have gone off to a big city and chased down your dreams and used all those talents of yours that I only got to see in their fledgling years… but it didn't happen… and I can't change that.  I was called back… and the call can't be refused.”

Kurt shook his head.  He still didn't comprehend it, but he was too depleted to question it.

“I made sure you had my name though… just in case… and so here you are.  I'm not really me, not as I might be now, but as your mother none the less.  A piece of me hidden within you and sealed there by my name.  You're going to live Kurt.  You'll wake up when your body has healed and you'll live.”

“But I'll be one of you….”  He snuffled, face buried against his mother's shoulder.

“No.  You'll be you.  You always have been, you've just never been awakened to who you are.”

“You were much better at making me feel better when I was little.”

She chuckled, despite his somber tone and brought a hand up to brush over Kurt's hair, “Well, if I'm not up to par it's because your own mind is limited when it comes to comforting techniques.  I suppose that's why you need Blaine.”

Kurt shook his head.  Alive or dead… either way he was gone to Blaine.  No one would want him.

“Do you think your dad would reject me, even now if he knew my true self baby boy?”

God no.  His dad loved his mother to his dying day.  “Probably not.”

“Then don't give your lover the same discredit.”  

A thought seemed to fall upon Kurt and he looked up, “Protection?”

“For you… and those around you.”

“Is that why…?”

“The Others have never found you?  Yes.”

“But I've seen one….”

“They will only find you if you let them Kurt.”

“And my dreams….”

“Are actually just what they say… your subconscious trying to piece things together… though in your case your subconscious has been a little more active than most.”

He clung back to her then, “And when I wake up?”

“You'll remember… but I'll be gone.  The magic we use is only good for so long.”

He sighed and shut his eyes, let her hold him and sing to him.  He would have this peace.  He would hold onto it for as long as he could.  Over time her clear voice became gritty and then began to fade, and Kurt thought it was because he was falling asleep in his mother's secure hold.

At least until he felt like he could no longer breath.

That's when he gasped for air, and found himself sputtering up water.  His eyes flew open as he struggled backwards in his search for air and he found himself staring back into the plain and highway he was sure he had died at, sitting back in a drainage ditch, submersed to his chest as he leaned back on his knees.

He wasn't dead… he wasn't dead….

His first instinct was to look around, searching for Blaine and anyone else.  Maybe it had just been a bad dream.  Perhaps he fell off the wagon and knocked his head and had dreamt up the whole death and dreamworld.

But he was alone out here, and it was night.  He was positive it had been morning when they had all set up and reached this place.  The only indication that anyone else had been out here was the tracks of a wagon and horses, mixed with those of random footprints.

And his bow and pack of arrows were there, discarded on the ground by the wagon tracks like they had been garbage.

The reality settled over Kurt then, especially when he looked down at his chest, seeing the same hole in his shirt with the red bloom sprouting from it.  But there was no hole in his body.  Nothing to indicate he was wounded.  

He had died.  He had seen his mother.  He was a freak.

Now he was alive, alone, and still a freak.

Quietly he stood, his clothes soaked and dripping immediately as he climbed out of the ditch and went to gather his bow and arrows.  His coat was heavy with the water weight and so Kurt shed it, leaving it there as he wrapped the pack over his chest and began following the tracks.  

What had taken an hour by horse, took Kurt two on foot.  The tracks led him back to the town and even though he had not eaten since the morning, he didn't feel hungry and he wasn't tired.  Blindly he kept moving ahead, motivated by his own need to protect and ensure the safety of the people who would probably reject them once they had seen his return from the dead.

Like a memory returned, the town seemed ablaze, though this fire was more contained. A central fire built to be huge was nested in the center of town.  Kurt snuck between building and climbed up atop the old brothel to get a better view.  He had lost the element of surprise before and he wouldn't now.

From there though, Kurt could see another fire in the distance, where his home was and his heart seemed to be shot through again as he realized he was losing his pictures, the letter, and his music.  Those few little things had meant the world to him and he had lost them without even being able to put up a fight.

Around the fire, community members had their hands bound together with rope and chains while Warblers patrolled closely to them, all armed with guns.  Some children sobbed quietly against their parents while those parents tried to calm them and tell them everything would be alright despite the fact that things could not look worse for them.  Sebastian and a couple of his goons were sitting around a table not far away, all with a pistol in one hand and a drink in the other as they talked.  

And Blaine was there too.

Tied up beside Sebastian and kneeling on the ground.  He looked like an absolute mess, hair wild and askew, his whole outfit ripped and covered with dirt.  He had put up some kind of fight and clearly he had been on the losing end.

“We should just let them go.  I don't want to kill anyone.”

“There's more of them though then there is of us.  Nothing is stopping them from attacking us back once they regroup.” Sebastian spat at the man who had spoken.

“I didn't sign on to murder people Cardinal… and there's kids and everything there…”

“There's two sides here - us and them.  Which side do you want to still be breathing at the end of this?”

The other man gave his two cents then, “I don't think I can stomach this… it's too much… you already killed that one guy….”

“Kurt.” Blaine spoke up then.  His voice was gravelly, but defiant, using the name as his only weapon against the men who had bound him there.

“Yes, yes… your pretty little piece of ass.” Sebastian cooed at Blaine, who glared at him menacingly, his breaths getting deeper and heavier as he looked at Sebastian spitefully.  “I shot him to set an example.”  

“How many examples do we need though Cardinal?”

“As many as it takes to get the point across that this is our town now.”

“But we shouldn't be fighting them… they're humans…”

“It's too late for that.  Now enough of your grievances.  We've started this, we just can't go back from it now.”

“You are all going to pay.”  Blaine spat out.

Sebastian looked at Blaine, regarding him silently for a moment before looking back at one of the men, “Get me that little blondie we used to lure them out.”

Kurt watched them as one of the men went into the library and came out pulling Beth along, tied by her wrists to the rope he was using.  Her face was red and splotchy, telltale signs that she had been crying, and probably a lot.  As she was dragged along she too cried out in defiance, “You're all evil!  You're all evil and you're going to regret this all!”

Sebastian smirked at her little tirade and then looked back to Blaine, “Examples must be made my Canary.”

Blaine sucked in a breath and his eyes went wide along with the men who had stood beside Sebastian.  Surely he couldn't be serious.  She was only a little girl.

But Sebastian was already lifting his gun to aim, and Kurt didn't have time to watch anymore, much less plan an elaborate scheme.  Beth was dead if he didn't do anything now and he was confident she didn't have any Other blood in her to bring her back to life.

Fluidly he shot, so quickly he surprised himself with how well his corpse moved.  As soon as one arrow was launched another was in his hand and aimed and fired.  He kept shooting, causing surprised cries and gasps of pain as he miraculously seemed to aim by feeling and not seeing.  Each shot pinning it's victim in the hand so their guns fell to the ground where ready community members grabbed them as the took advantage of the sudden chaos.

It wasn't until the fifth arrow had been released that anyone was able to figure out they were coming from the same location and eyes and gun muzzles moved towards Kurt as they tried to determine who was attacking them.

It wasn't until the seventh arrow that anyone spotted him, and shots were fired.  They were recklessly aimed though, and by the time they had a chance to shoot again, their guns were lost to the ground and their hand had an arrow piercing through the palm.  

Kurt jumped from the roof to the wooden overhang and then to the ground with no pause or hesitation between his jumps.  He saw eyes widen when people recognized him, knew he should be floating in a ditch still, and based on the attack he had just made, knew he couldn't possibly have done it by himself, at least, not without otherworldly skill.

Which it seemed he did.

The shock gave Kurt the chance to aim his last arrow at Sebastian, whose gun was in the process of being turned towards him but stopped the instant he realized his men were down and any chance he had of fighting back was futile.  So he dropped his gun, lifted his hands towards the sky and glared at Kurt.

“You were supposed to be dead.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”  Kurt snarled back and shifted his aim just a touch as he released the arrow into Sebastian's foot, causing the man to let out a slew of expletives and crumble to the ground as he took the offended foot in his hands to cradle it.  Just because he had given himself up didn't mean Kurt was going to let him get away with killing him and doing all this to his home.

A slow glance around confirmed that power was back in the hands of community members.  People were being untied and Warblers were being roped back up.  He heard the hushed murmurs, felt the glances being directed at him, and smelt the fear and suspicion, but it was okay, his people were safe now.

As the adrenaline flowed out of him, he dropped his bow to the ground, suddenly overcome with debilitating weakness and dizziness.  Kurt frantically looked around for honey eyes to ground him, but before he could find them, he was in a heap on the ground, passing out to the sweet voice of his lover calling for him.  A voice he couldn't respond to as blackness overtook him for the second time that day.