Kurt wasn't sure when he stopped crying, he only noticed his cheeks had dried and he wasn't hiccupping anymore. He sat there, unable to move or even fall asleep. His mind seemed to be on autopilot, moving numbly through his thoughts. That was just how he felt, numb. Occasionally, he tripped over a thought that he maybe should have made him cry, and probably would have, if he hadn't been so utterly exhausted.

He didn't know how long he sat there or when exactly he fell asleep but he did know he woke up to an annoying buzzing sound. He sat for a while; in the same crouched position he had fallen into last night, trying to distinguish the noise.

It hit him suddenly and he wondered why he hadn’t recognised his alarm before. Kurt moved and could feel the ache of his body limit him. He ended up crawling over to the bedside table, pulling down his buzzing phone and switching off the pre-set alarm. He sat there for a while, trying to figure out what to do.

I have to get up. I have to go to school. I can't let this... THING I can do control my life. I have to show them that I can be mutant AND I can be normal.

He absent mindedly pulled himself up, not really realising he'd done it until his could feel the stretch of the muscles as he stands. There was a creak in his neck from his sleeping position but he merely rolled his head around and ignored it.

Kurt was dressed and making his way upstairs in record time, probably because he hadn't paid attention to the clothes he picked, just opened the wardrobe and grabbed. He made his way to the kitchen, not even thinking, just being, but when he walked into the kitchen he frozes.

His father  was there, tired with bags under his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. It was a moment before he noticed Kurt and his brow creased.

"Kurt, you're up early." His eyes washed over him, taking him all in. Kurt didn't move.

"I always get up this early," he said. The crease deepened for a second and suddenly Burt's eyes were wide with fear.

"Kurt, you're can't be- you're not going to school are you?" Kurt shrugged and his father shook his head, in denial or disbelief, Kurt doesn't know. "No. No, no, no, Kurt, it's too dangerous."

"This isn't the first time I've gone to school with this, Dad," Kurt spat, unable to keep the venom from his voice. "I've learned to control it, everyone else is fine!"

"It's not the other kids I'm worried about!" his father admitted and Kurt stilled again, staring at him. Burt scratched the back of his neck before taking a deep breath and walking over to his son. Without any hesitation, he placed both his hands on Kurt's shoulders. Kurt flinched away at first, afraid he was going to hurt him, but when he spoke, his father's voice was gentle.

"Kurt, I'm sorry about last night, it just took me by surprise. I shouldn't have acted the way I did, and I'm truly sorry. I should have acted like a father. With the whole gay thing, I kind of had a... a sort of... pre-warning, I guess you could say, and I had time to adjust. This was just new, and you know me when it comes to something new." He sighed, gave Kurt's shoulder a squeeze and looked him right in the eye. "I never meant to make you feel as though you were wrong or disgusting or anything I may have made you feel. You are my son. And I love you no matter what. Gay or not gay, mutant or not mutant."

Kurt threw his arms around him, holding on tight. His dad chuckled and squeezed back. "I mean it, kid," he hummed. "I love you."

"I love you too, Dad," Kurt said, pulling away, but still keeping his hands on his father's shoulders. He smiled at his father, who returned it for a moment before his face turned serious.

"I still don't want you going to school though," he said, the crease in his forehead as deep as before. "People aren't going to be happy with you. Being gay was bad enough - I almost wanted to pull you out then - but this on top of it..."

"I'll be fine, Dad, really," he assured him, kissing his cheek and pulling away completely. "I've been doing this for a little while now, I've got it covered."

"I don't know..."

Kurt went to the cooker, pulling a pot out from the cupboard beside it. "Dad, I promise you, I will be fine. Now, how about I make us omelettes for breakfast?"

"Okay... Okay, fine. But Kurt, I'm counting in you to tell me the moment is starts to get rough and not a second later, understand?"

Kurt put down the egg he was holding and walked to his dad. He wrapped his arms around him again. He was so glad he was here, on his side. He could forgive him - had forgiven him - for his little slip up because it meant that he didn't have to do this alone. He didn't care what the rest of the world thought as long as it meant his father was always there to hug him like he was now.

"I promise, Dad."

~~~

Winter brought the cold. To Kurt, this meant scarves, scarves and more scarves. Not that he needed them anymore, his body temperature remained constantly toasty all the time thanks to his little gift. But still, they were nice to wear, and it would look suspicious if he suddenly had an aversion to them, he was Kurt Hummel after all.

He practiced every day, although mostly in his bedroom and never when his dad was around. Burt was okay with his son being a mutant but he still flinched a little when Kurt absently ignites his fingers. There was one time when the power went out and Burt offered Kurt the wick of a candle with a smile when he couldn't find matches. Kurt appreciated his effort to make him feel like he was still an important part in their family.

Everything changed the week they arrived back after the Christmas holidays. Kurt did his best to ignore him but Karofsky seemed to be making up for all the days he missed over the school break and was bullying Kurt with a shocking consistency. Most of the time Kurt would just cling to the wall whenever he was knocked into it to save himself from any more torment but today hadn't started out so well.

Rachel had informed him this morning that his solo and had been given to her - again - and that she was sorry but there was nothing either of them could do about it, (Kurt would see about that!). That put him in a foul mood but it was his speech and debate class just before lunch that really had him on edge.

The topic had been mutants. While Kurt usually was very opinionated in this class, he thought it best to sit this one out. Still, he listened, with growing disgust. There were the truly horrible people who were against mutants, claiming them to be disgusting and wrong. And then there were those who were on his side, but yet they talked as though a mutant was no more than an animal, their tones clearly saying "Yes, they should be treated equal but being normal is superior." Kurt bottled everything in, wanting to shout at them all for being inconsiderate and insensitive but knowing he couldn't. He left the class fuming, just wishing he could get to lunch, his hands clenching and unclenching in an attempt to cool the heat building in the palms of his hands.

There was a sharp pain in his left shoulder as it collided with the lockers and a dull throb in his right where Karofsky had knocked into him. Everything building inside of him snapped, like building supports buckling in and cascading down in a wave of rubble and rage. It bubbled up inside him, filling him and overtaking him until it was the only thing he knew.

"Hey!" His shout rang out across the hall but Karofsky had already turned off the corridor. His anger moved Kurt's feet forward, throwing the door to the locker room open so it crashed against the wall and swung closed again. Kurt's voice rang out in the room, empty other than Karofsky. "I am talking to you!!"

"Girls locker room is next door," he said, pulling stuff from his locker. He sounded like he was talking to a six year old, unthreatened and bored.

"What is your problem!?" Kurt barked at him. His hands were hot and shaking, whether it was from the fury coursing through his veins or from the fear that was menacingly close to taking the forefront of his emotions right now, he didn't know.

"Excuse me?"

"What are you so scared of?"

"Besides you sneaking in here to peak at my junk?" The way he spoke, like he was so disgusted, was as if he was talking to the lowest of the low. A rapist or someone who preyed on young girls.

"Oh yeah! Every straight guy's nightmare!" Kurt spat, letting venom seep into to his words. "That all us gays are out to molest and convert you. Well guess what, ham hock! You're not my type!"

"That right?" Karofsky growled, taking an intimidating step forward.

"Yeah, I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be bald by the time they're thirty!"

"Do not push me, Hummel," he said through gritted teeth, raising a fist.

"You gonna hit me?" He felt it then, the wave of fear ebbing up under the anger but it didn't stop him. The heat in his hands was building up, ready and waiting in defence. He was being reckless and stupid but god he didn't care at this point. "Do it."

He barely even registered the slam of the locker. "Don't push me!" Karofsky repeated.

"Hit me because it is not going to change who I am! You can't punch the gay out of me anymore than I can punch the ignoramus out of you." The gravity of that sentence weighed more than it appeared on the surface. It wasn't just this bully Kurt was talking to but all of them. It want just about being gay, it was about being different; gay, mutant or anything else that made them stand apart.

"Get out of my face!!" The echoing voice bounced off the lockers but Kurt held his ground, rising like a crescendo until his words took on their own momentum.

"You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't stand how extraordinarily ordinary you are-"

The wave crashed, his crescendo fell and suddenly Kurt was plummeting down to earth with a force stronger and more terrifying than gravity. Karofsky had grabbed him but not in the way he had expected. Kurt couldn't have seen this coming, no one could have.

Kurt's chest was tight, he couldn't breathe. Karofsky's mouth on his left a crushed feeling, the taste of his tongue, too big, too slimy and disgustingly wrong! He could only stare in shock at him, at his bully.

Karofsky moved again, this time Kurt saw what was coming. His hands shot out, pushing against him. He just wanted him away, as far away as he could get. He vaguely registered Karofsky's yelp as he rocked backward. It wasn't until Karofsky’s eyes drifted down to his chest, a shocked face that mirrored Kurt's own that he realised just how out of had this had become.

There, on the left breast of his letterman jacket, was a hand shaped scorch mark. A charred hand print burned through the fabric and even singed his dark t-shirt underneath.

He stared open mouthed at the mark, willing it to disappear under his stare. In his shock at Karofsky’s kiss, he had lost all awareness of the heat in his hands, lost control and forgot to hold back. He glanced up to Karofsky, to the fear in his face. He knew. He knew the truth, about what Kurt was, just like how Kurt now knew his secret.

He grabbed his bag, stumbling in his rush to get as far away from Kurt a he could. He never took his eyes off Kurt. They told Kurt everything.

You're a freak.

A freak and a fag.

You're as good as dead.

Kurt felt himself sink against the lockers, sliding down until he hit the ground. His mind was racing. His heart was racing. His entire body was on edge. It was screaming at him. A deafening yell of run. Everyone would know. There was no way Karofsky wouldn’t tell. He had to go. Leave and get out and never come back.

He grabbed his bag, hands trembling and made for his car. Most people were in the cafeteria so although the halls weren’t empty, there was no one to stop him and question him. He didn’t care that he was skipping school. It wouldn’t matter in the end as long as he made it home without incident.

His dad wasn’t home when he arrived and he was grateful. He felt horrible and dirty and wrong. He striped and showered, scrubbing every inch of him three or four times. He washed his face until it was red raw – his cheeks were Karofsky had held him, his lips that felt as though the will never be right. He scrubbed and scrubbed until his frustration became too much and he sank to the tiled shower floor. He was hiccupping, probably crying but it was a little hard to tell in the running water. The uneasy feeling had crept beneath him, crawled under his skin. No matter how hard he tried, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to feel clean.

The water ran cold long before he was shivering enough to get up and get out. He shut off the water and dragged himself to his room. Usually he could send a current of heat around his body to dry himself off in seconds but he’s shivering too much, all the heat gone. A towel wrapped around his shoulders like a blanket, he fell on the bed and just lay there, no energy to move.

He didn’t think he’d slept but he must have because the light in his room has changed when his mind started working again and he could hear his dad calling him. A voice in his head reminded him he had promised to make dinner because his dad was working late. He wanted to push himself up, needed to, but his body wouldn’t respond.

“Kurt?”

His dad’s voice washed over him, warm and caring, spurring life into his limbs. The heavy footfalls made their way down the stairs and when Burt’s voice came again, it was laced with worry. “Kurt? Kurt, what is it? What’s wrong?” His dad’s face filled his vision. His brow was furrowed with worry and he stretched out a hand to Kurt’s icy hair and god, Kurt didn’t even realise he was still shivering.

“They know, Dad,” Kurt croaked out. His voice was hoarse and his throat was scratchy from all the crying earlier and he was shivering in his damp and freezing towel. The crease in his dad was forehead deepened and he gave Kurt a questioning look as his fingers trail soothingly through the hair on the side of Kurt’s head.

“They know about me,” Kurt repeated and though is takes a second, realisation dawns on him. He pulled Kurt up and into his chest.

“Oh, Kurt, I’m so sorry,” he said, rubbing circles into his back through his towel.  Kurt curled into him, so warm and strong. He didn’t say anything, neither of them did, and slowly Kurt’s shivers began to ease.

“What happened?” Burt asked, his voice hard but Kurt can hear the protectiveness in there. He didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to worry him but after a minute or two of silence, he took a deep, shuddering breath.

Staying curled against his father’s chest, Kurt told him everything. About the song, about Speech and Debate, about the locker and about the kiss. He felt his father stiffen against him but he didn’t quieten until he’d finished.

Burt continued to rub circles into his back until finally he said in a steady voice, "You're staying home. There is no way I'm letting my kid go to a place like that. I wish you had've told me about the bullying earlier but I'm glad you're telling me now."

"Dad, I-" Kurt began in a quiet voice but he was cut off.

"No, that's it. I'm not risking it," he said in a hard voice. He sighed and hugged Kurt close and said more gently, "I'm not risking you, Kurt."

He hugged him back, feeling lighter and more at ease. His skin was still crawling but he could ignore it if he tried. He was just so glad his father was as he was, he couldn't imagine being so lost without his dad's hand to guide him.

They sat for a while. Kurt's stomach growled and it seemed to jerk Burt into life. He left after making Kurt promised he would put some warm clothes on, brushing off his request to make them dinner like he had promised.

("Kurt, it's fine, really. You've had a hard day, you need some rest.")

He trudged upstairs, weary and tired, in sweatpants and a hoodie to find his dad browning the mince. Kurt went to the cupboard to get the jar of Bolognese sauce, knowing they were both too tired and hungry to make it the real way.

They ate in a comfortable silence. Neither moved when they had cleared their plates and instead just sat. Kurt pushed the last few strings of spaghetti around instead of getting up and going to bed like he knew he should. The last thing he wanted right now is to be on his own.

"What happens now?" he asked quietly. He wasn’t really looking for an answer so he was surprised when his dad replied.

"Well, you can't go back to McKinley, that's for sure," he hummed and Kurt nodded. "But I did some research and I think I have a list of places where mutants can live in-"

"You did research?" Kurt asked, straightening as he looked at his father. Burt shrugged sheepishly. "When!?"

"That first night, after I saw you downstairs with the..." he said, motioning to Kurt's hand. “The flame thing... On your fingers." Kurt stared at him, mouth slightly agape. He had never thought, never realised how much his father cared. He couldn't help but begin to smile as a pleasant warmth spread through him at his gesture. Burt beat him to punch before he could say anything. "Come on, Kurt, what kind of father would I be if I didn't find out the facts? Figure out what's going on? I stayed up pretty much that entire night on the internet."

"You actually did that?" He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice and his dad shrugged again.

"You're my son," he reminded Kurt, "I had to, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't," Kurt told him. He reached out and took the hand that sat on the table. "But I'm glad you did."

Burt squeezed his hand before sitting forward and resting his forearms on the table. "As I was saying, I got a list of a few mutant friendly places we can move to so th-"

"What! No! Dad, we can't move, what about the shop?"

"It's just a garage, Kurt, I can set one up where ever we go!"

Kurt smiled softly at his father. "You would really do that?" he asked. Burt shrugged again. "We can't anyway, you're sick, the move would cause too much stress."

With a roll of his eyes his dad said, "Knowing that you're still here will cause me too much stress."

Kurt sighed, finally getting up and taking their dishes to the sink. "We're not going to figure this out now. Can we talk in the morning?"

"Sure thing, kiddo." Burt moved him before he can stick his hands in the soapy dishwater. "Go. Get some sleep. Go." he added when Kurt opened his mouth to protest. Kurt smiled softy and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight, Dad, thanks again," he said quietly. "For everything."

The next few days were some of Kurt's worse. He was on edge the entire time, every noise, every movement makes him jump. He kept expecting an angry mob with torches and pitchforks to arrive at his door.

It didn't come, obviously. But the flood of texts did. Different variations of 'freak' and 'fag' populated them and he had to wade through the crap to find the kinder ones. He stopped reading Rachel Berry's angry messages about betraying the glee club after her fourth message but Tina and Mercedes were relentless. They each sent at least one every hour.

From Tina

Kurt, is everything okay? Are you sick again?

From Mercedes

You weren't in school again, how you holding up?

From Mercedes

There is some wacked up stuff going around about you.

From Tina

You know we don't care, right? If it is true? You're still the Kurt Hummel we know and love.

From Puck

Dude, that is freaking awesome!!

Even though he knew he had their support, he couldn't bring himself to go back to that school after what happened with Karofsky. Not that his father would have let him anyway.

After almost a week of hiding away he was starting to lose it. He hated being locked inside. It was like being a caged animal and it was driving him insane.

The doorbell rang one night at dinner. Both Kurt and his dad froze and stared at each other.

"Stay here," Burt ordered in a low voice. He waited until his father had left the kitchen before he snuck into the living room, crouching by the hallway door to listen.

"... here to see Kurt."

"Well, I'm sorry, but he's not having any visitors at the moment."

"I assure you, we mean no harm." It was a soft voice, a man's voice but he couldn't place it.

"Yeah, that's what everyone says," his father retorted.

"Mr Hummel, my name is Charles Xavier, and this Dr Jean Grey, one of the teachers at my school for gifted youngsters."

Kurt hears his father pause. "Jean Grey?" he asked softly and he must have received some sort of confirmation because he said, "Yeah, I know you. You do all that work for mutant equality. You were against the mutant registry." He knew his father so well and he could hear the change in his voice. "You're here to see Kurt?"

"We're here to help him," a woman's voice - probably Dr Grey's - said and it was gentle and kind. Kurt recognised the voice, he knew he had heard it before but he can't put a face to it. "If he wants it."

Burt grunted, and Kurt could hear the door squeak as he opened it wider, probably letting them inside. He jumped back from the door as his dad opened it.

"Hey, Kurt, can you come- oh." He stopped when he saw him standing there and Kurt gave his father a guilty shrug. Burt didn't say anything, merely walked into the room to stand beside him, placing a protective hand on his shoulder.

Kurt watcheed the door as a slender woman comes through and immediately he recognised her as Dr Jean Grey. He had seen her on television, on the news, arguing for mutant rights. She had a kind face and a soft smile. Politely, she stepped aside once she was in the room to allow a suited man in a wheelchair to pass. He was bald and smiling warmly at Kurt as he moved the electric wheelchair in front of him.

"Kurt Hummel?" Kurt nodded and the man offered out a hand.

"I am Professor Charles Xavier, and I am here to invite you to my school for mutants."