“Kurt, can you hear me? Kurt, they wanted me to let you know that she’s fine, but she’s in the hospital,” Kurt couldn’t understand what his father was trying to tell him. It was something about Santana, something about Brittany won’t stop crying, something about the hospital. Though the phone connection was bad, it didn’t keep his mind from making it’s own connections. 

Santana tried to commit suicide.

Kurt knew Santana, knew she could handle everything, everything except who she was. Kurt didn’t know what else to do, so he did the only thing he could think of, “Dad? Can you hear me? I’m coming home, I’ll be there in a couple of hours!”

He didn’t know if his dad heard him or not before the phone went dead, but it didn’t matter, he made his decision. 

Kurt couldn’t turn his brain off the whole time he was packing and calling the airport for the next flight to Ohio. He knew he should have gone home last weekend, but with all the school work and finals, he just wanted a weekend to himself and the cost of the trip between Ohio and New York City was one he couldn’t afford regularly. He should have listened to his gut the other night telling him something was going on back home, telling him that one of his friends needed him. But he ignored it and look what happened.

Kurt looked around the apartment, left a note for Rachel, his best friend and roommate, and he left. He needed to see Santana, needed to see Brittany, needed to know everything and everyone was all right.

It was on the plane, sitting in his lumpy chair, listening to the preflight announcements that Kurt finally broke down. At first he didn’t really know why, most of high school he was being verbally tormented by her. But the fact was, as soon as high school was over, those three months spent that summer was his last with the Glee club, and they made it count.

One slightly alcohol induced night they were feeling extra sentimental and Santana spilt the beans, told everyone she was still sort ashamed of being who she was. And that she was scared shitless when people brought it up. Her parents said they didn’t care, but she knew better. Knew they never looked at her the same, and every time Brittany came over the glances exchanged could only be described as awkward. Kurt had nothing to tell her, didn’t say it’d get better because honestly he didn’t know. He just told her to call him if she needed to. But she didn’t.

Kurt was so distraught that he didn’t even care when other passengers were staring, didn’t care when the cute flight attendant leaned over and asked if he was all right. He just didn’t care because he was in the same boat Santana was, and no matter how many times he tells himself that it’s alright, it’s going to be okay, and one day everyone will see he’s just as normal as everyone else, the fact still was that it wasn’t okay. At the end of the day he was still gay, at the end of the day everyone still hated him for being who he truly was.

And he still didn’t know how to deal with it after all these years.

The flight attendant finally just left him alone, resorting to odd side glances and slowly everyone went back to his or her previous activities. Kurt looked around the plane at all the people. Men in business suits, women in blazers and skirts, poised and not so poised children listening to music and adjusting their seats. And then he looked at himself, he doesn’t know why, but he just felt so angry.

Angry at these people who just don’t care. He really shouldn’t have been as worked up, they didn’t know what was going on with his life. They didn’t know one of the only people in the world he can truly relate to was sitting in a hospital bed. But he couldn’t keep it in any longer, for the rest of the flight Kurt closed his eyes, gripped his armrests and let his mind wander. As soon as the wheels hit the ground his eyes were open, his hand already on his belt, ready to deboard, ready to see his father, ready to talk to Santana, ready for something, anything outside of this airplane.

Anyone looking at him now, it might have been funny, a man in his early 20s nearly running through the Ohio airport with no panic across his face. His D&G blazer fit snug around his torso, Kurt probably wouldn’t even notice himself if he were the one looking in, he was all about being proper. He made sure the only attention brought to himself was for his impeccable fashion sense or amazing voice. But right now all he wanted was to get out, he needed to be alone, he didn’t need anyone, he just needed something.

He tapped his foot repetitively, checking his watch, anything to keep his mind off certain subjects as he waited in line for a rental car. Usually someone would pick him up but due to the spontaneity of his decision, he didn’t even call anyone. He didn’t even think about it.

But it was fine, he needed this drive, maybe it’ll calm him down enough so his father didn’t worry so much when Kurt arrived. Kurt’s mind was so muddled with Santana and the situation that he couldn’t remember how he even got to the highway, or if he had troubles getting out of the parking lot. He just remembered his lights glowing over the road, and a familiar radio station soothing his soul.

He’s going to get through this.

The first thing he did when he got home was hug his father. He needed to feel the comfort, needed that someone to tell him it was going to be okay. Needed the familiar arms around him that he missed so much when he came home from college and no one was there and he just felt alone.

It wasn’t until Burt spoke that Kurts tears started pouring again, “Bud, it’s going to be alright.”

Kurt didn’t know why, but those were a sure tear jerker for him. Probably because when someone says it, it’s usually anything but alright, maybe eventually it is, but at that moment it’s not alright. Burt knew that Kurt would be upset over this to the point where he nearly didn’t make the call. But Kurt needed to know and Burt would be there for him even though he didn’t always know what to do. So for now all Burt did was hold his son in the cold Ohio night. And for now, that was enough.