It was all Kurt had left, and it too had been taken away. The old pick-up was his baby; he and Burt had rebuilt it one summer, and on his 16th birthday he'd been given the keys. Kurt had cherished it, a symbol of his freedom and his dad's acceptance of his growing up. When Burt passed, Kurt lost everything, everything but the beat up old truck. It became his home, the only place he really felt safe. On hot days he could smell the lingering motor oil and Burt's cologne. Those days were his favorite.

Kurt is sitting at a red light, having just gotten back on the road, making his way to the truck-stop that lets him use the shower. It's been a long day of job hunting, but no one wants to hire an 18 year old with no job history and no home address. That's when it happens, the brand new Escalade crashes into his pickup, the force of which causes his truck to spin into a nearby building. With both sides of the cab crushed in, Kurt's only option is to get out through the busted back window.

Covered in cuts, shards of glass, and blood, Kurt mourns the loss of not only the truck, but the memories, too, all while watching the moron, who just totaled his truck and his life, sob into his phone.

After the paramedics had checked him over and bandaged him up, they started with the questions:

"Emergency Contact?"

"None."

"Home phone number?"

"None."

"Address?"

"None." Kurt can feel the agitation in his voice.

"Parents?"

"Dead."

That's when he notices him. The moron's father must have showed up around the same time as the paramedics, and, judging from the constipated look on his face, he over hear the conversation. That look usually results in, "I'm so sorry kid; here's a few bucks—get a good meal in you," or "I wish there was something I could do."

What Kurt doesn't expect is for this guy to run the paramedics off with a firm look and a, "I need to speak to the gentleman. Business matters. You guys understand," and proceed to ask Kurt's name.

Trying to ignore him, Kurt turns his head, but Mr. Moron isn't having it.

"Look kid, I'm just asking for your name, not your life story. Besides, it's polite to introduce yourself, no matter the circumstance."

Extending his hand, he replies, "Kurt Hummel. I'd say it's a pleasure, but—well. "

Mr. Moron chuckles, while taking Kurt's hand and shaking it, says,"Can't disagree with you on that one. Name's Anderson. Charles."He smiles at Kurt, and it's not one of those 'I'm sorry to have met you' smiles; it's a genuine smile, one that Kurt hasn't seen in a very long time. "The complete moron over there would be my son Blaine."

Kurt can't help but laugh at the way Mr. Anderson calls his son a moron (only because he's been thinking it). Looking over, he can see that Blaine is now sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. His hair is starting to break free from its prison of gel, and Kurt can see the smallest of curls breaking through.

It's during that thought that Mr. Anderson snaps him back to reality. "Look, Kurt I wasn't trying to ease drop. I did however hear that you—that—"

Kurt notices the way he's looking at him, like he's asking permission to continue, so he nods his head and motions with his hand for Mr. Anderson to go on.

"I overheard your conversation with the paramedics—that you have no one to turn to and no place to go. Is that true?"

He nods his head, says, "It is true."

"So I'm going to assume that you were living in the vehicle my kid just destroyed." Kurt nods his head again. It's where he's lived for the past six month-- it's not like he could lie. It's too obvious with all his possessions spilled onto the road. "Well," he continues,"since my reckless, jackass kid destroyed your 'place of residence', I'd like to make you an offer."

Laughing, Kurt looks him in the eye, and asks, "Want to pay me off so I don't sue? No worries, I can't afford a lawyer."

"Actually, I was going to offer you our guest house."

Kurt just looks at him, awestruck, and, for once in his life, at a loss for words. 'I'm a total stranger and he wants to put a roof over my head. What the hell is going on?'

Mr. Anderson chuckles,"We need to get you all healed up and back on your feet. If you stay with us it'll make it easier for Blaine to nurse you back to health."

Kurt can feel the blush rising in from his neck to his face. 'Did this guy just wiggle his eyebrows while suggesting his son play nurse?' Once again, he's pulled from his thoughts, but it's a different voice this time.

Looking up Kurt notices Blaine, and laughs.

'Maybe—just maybe—I haven't lost everything.'