Kurt slams the door hard when he arrives home from school, red dye #4 still dripping down the base of his neck. His body aches and his heart hurts; he yearns for a steaming hot bath and long nap.

Unfortunately for Kurt, however, his father seems to have other plans.

Burt corners Kurt, a gleam of excitement shining in his eyes, right before Kurt can escape down the stairs to his room.

"Hey, Kurt come 'ere real quick, I got somethin' to show you."

"Dad, I really just want to go to my room. Can it wait? Please?"

Burt opens his mouth to answer, but he's interrupted by a soft whimper coming from the kitchen.

"Dad?" Kurt says, slowly, suspicion creeping into his voice. "What was that?"

"Just follow me."

Burt leads him to the kitchen, and Kurt narrows his eyes at his father when he notices his father walking backwards towards the table, obviously trying to hide something.

"Kurt, just come on. I got somethin' for you; I really think you'll like 'em."

Eyebrow quirked suspiciously, Kurt follows his dad into the kitchen, his eyes lingering on the stairs leading down to his bedroom longingly.

"Dad, it's been a really long day and I just want to go shower and-"

" Look bud, you remember when you were eight and you begged your mom and me for a hybrid for months on end?"

Kurt sighs, crosses his arms across his chest, jaw clenching for a moment before he answers his father, agitation trying to cover up the sadness in his voice.

"Of course I remember. You and mom finally agreed, and then a week later mom died. What does that have to do with anything, dad?"

Burt claps his hands together excitedly, eyes betraying just a hint of nervousness, and he slowly takes a step to the side, revealing a cardboard box sitting innocently on the table.

Kurt's eyes widen, his arms drop heavily and he gives his father an incredulous look.

"Dad... tell me you didn't."

"Just – give me a chance to explain, Kurt."

"I'm listening."

"There was no one to take him in and – Carl said they were gonna have to take him to that shelter, and you know how I feel about those, Kurt – you've been so down lately and I figured, 'ya know, maybe you two could help each other out."

"Dad," Kurt sighs, eyes flickering towards the still box warily.

"He's already had a tough time, Kurt, I couldn't just let 'im go to that shelter."

Swallowing hard, Kurt nods at his father, takes slow, hesitant steps toward the box until he's pressed against the wood of the table.

Kurt opens the box slowly, his breath held tight in his lungs. He smoothes the flaps down the sides of the box and cautiously peeks inside.

And there, lying curled up in a ball, is a sleeping hybrid puppy.

He's got a mess of wild curls on his head, floppy black ears that twitch every so often as he slumbers, long dark lashes that fan across his cheeks, and a bright blue cast on his right arm.

Kurt frowns deeply at that, turns to his father and asks, "What happened to his arm?"

Burt takes off his cap, rubs a hand over his head and tells Kurt in a low voice, "Raiders came for his parents and brother, and this little guy was sleepin' upstairs in a closet when it happened so they missed him. When he woke up he was frantic and fell down the stairs. Luckily, those HPS people came quickly, found him and managed to set out his arm. He'll have that cast on for a while, but he should be fine."

The hybrid boy shifts in his sleep, a tiny whimper escaping his lips, and Kurt automatically reaches inside the box, lifting the little boy hybrid with gentle hands. He holds the puppy close to his chest, running soothing fingers through dark curls. The puppy gives a shuddering sigh and nuzzles against Kurt's shirt, mouth twitching into a smile.

"I'll take care of him." Kurt looks up at his father when he speaks, a hand rubbing over the boy's back comfortingly, determined look on his face.

Burt sighs in relief, smiles Kurt and grips his arm, nods, and then goes to leave.

"Dad?" Kurt calls out, a grin on his face.

Burt turns around in question, waits for Kurt to speak again. "Yeah, kid?"

"Does he have a name?"

"Yeah. Name's Blaine."

Kurt nods, says the name to himself and smiles down at the sleeping pup, running a finger down the boy's floppy ear.

"Blaine. Welcome to your new home."