Burt didn't know what to think when he hollered down to Kurt that dinner was ready and he and Blaine appeared. It was a great sight to see and also unnerving. He didn't know what to say to either of them, and instead focused on stuffing himself while they talked. The conversation didn't exactly make his thoughts easier to ignore.

"So you do actually have a brother, right?" Kurt asked. "God, he's probably old enough to be my grandfather, isn't he?"

"Coop?" Blaine said, cutting up his spaghetti. "He's in his seventies now." Burt caught his eyes and Blaine frowned, cleared his throat, and attempted to change the subject. "So, have you gotten the latest copy of Vogue? I heard there was something about Patti LuPone's new book in it or something."

"Huh? Oh, right, I'm picking it up tomorrow," Kurt told him, waving his fork about dismissively. "But what about–"

Burt dropped his head onto his fist and tried not to groan. "God, I can't believe I'm watching a dead kid eat."

He couldn't handle how easily this conversation was going. Apparently, it was all true. He'd still, deep down, hoped it hadn't been, but Kurt's line of questioning obviously meant it was.

There was a dead kid sitting at his table. His son's best friend was a boy who had died fifty years ago.

Burt took a deep breath and rubbed his temples.

"Dad?"

Kurt's timid voice broke him from his thoughts. He glanced up and attempted to smile over at Kurt, but he knew by the concerned look on Kurt's face that he'd failed.

"This is all a lot to digest," Blaine said gently, his hand coming up and clasping Kurt's where it rested on the table top. The sight did little to help Burt's sick feeling. "We won't talk about it if you don't want us to, Mr. Hummel. Kurt just has a lot of questions."

"So do I," Burt admitted loudly. He leaned back and eyed them both carefully. "So it's all true?"

"Yes, sir," Blaine said solemnly. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions–"

"When do you leave?" Burt questioned immediately. "Not that I'm not glad you're here, kid, but... You mean a lot to my son and if you're only here for a little while... "

"Only until June," Blaine answered as Kurt frowned at both of them. "It's the longest I've ever been back for."

"And why are you back exactly?" Burt countered, giving Blaine a stern look. He liked the kid, of course he did. But right now all he could see was Kurt being left friendless – crushless – and alone at the end of all this.

"Dad, this isn't–"

"I'm here to help Kurt, sir," Blaine cut in pointedly. He glanced at Kurt for a moment before turning back to Burt, his face open and earnest. Blaine was such a sweet kid. A rarity in Burt's eyes because the boy truly cared, not just about Kurt, but about everything he came into contact with. "I don't know all of the details. This is my last mission and they don't tell us what we're here to do. All I know is that I'm here to help Kurt in any way he needs me."

"Like with him coming out," Burt assumed, nodding as he took in what Blaine was saying.

"Exactly like that," Blaine agreed. "There's– I'm just going to be really honest, okay?" Burt nodded encouragingly as Blaine continued, "Part of my last mission here is overcoming what... um, what happened to me in my own life–"

"The way you died," Burt guessed.

Blaine swallow and, for the first time since he'd started speaking, he didn't meet Burt's eyes. The way he shifted uncomfortably made Burt regret mentioning it so casually. He didn't like mentioning Elizabeth's death if he could help it. Trying to imagine off-handedly talking about his own made him squirm in his chair. He'd read the article about what had happened to Blaine, including the follow up articles in the weeks following the first that had given more grisly details. They hadn't covered the whole picture, but Burt knew enough to know it wasn't pretty.

"Yeah, um, that," Blaine acknowledged quietly. "Part of me being here this time is facing that through my mission, so I have to help Kurt with his bullies."

Burt nodded and leaned back against his chair. That made sense to him. He'd seen enough of those Touched By An Angel shows to know it was a common theme they all shared. Apparently, it was true, too, but it made sense to him as well. Someone who had died in the manner that Blaine had would struggle a lot to move on to Heaven. Well, he assumed that's where he was or would go after he succeeded here.

"So then you go back to Heaven?" Burt asked uncertainly.

Blaine snorted. "What is it with you people and– no. I– sorry." He paused and took a steadying breath. "The afterlife and where I'm from is nothing like what you see on TV. Or what religious people tell you. I'm from a place called the Between. It's basically being in limbo. Beyond is where everyone ends up. It's the next step in my journey, but I don't know where that is or what it is, just that if I get through this and do it well, then I go Beyond."

Blaine made air quotes as he said the last word. Burt tried to take in everything he'd just heard, but even after two weeks of time to digest Blaine being dead, it was still a lot to swallow. Kurt's only friend, his best friend, the boy who had been there for him even as a child, was leaving in June and he'd never come back.

"Kurt said Will Schuester recognized you," Burt said after a moment. "Was that another... mission? Like what you're doing here now?"

Blaine nodded and Burt frowned. Kurt had said Will Schuester had said that that Blaine had died. That made no sense to Burt, considering Blaine had told them he'd died fifty years ago.

"So do you die every time you come back then?" Burt continued, frowning over at them. "Schuester said that kid died that year and if you were already dead–"

"I don't really die," Blaine admitted, "but it looks like it. Kind of feels like it in some ways, too. Basically, in order to go back I have to be taken out of this world again, in ways similar to how I left the first time. I um," Blaine stared hard at the table for several moments before continuing, "I drowned in my... in my own blood, so when I was here in the nineties I ended up drowning in a pool. It's not the exact same situation for me every time since it was technically that that killed me, but for others it's the same. Like heart attacks or strokes and such."

Burt nodded slowly, stomach churning at Blaine's confession and the horrified look on Kurt's face. It was almost too much to bear, trying to imagine such a thing happening to the sweet young man in front of him. But it had happened. Decades ago, some stupid punk teenagers had cornered Blaine in his high school parking lot, maybe on his way home from a late club meeting or arriving to see the game, and they'd beaten him to death.

"D- do you have any other questions?" Blaine asked uncertainly. "If you ever do, just go ahead and ask. I mean, I've never had anyone to tell before, but I'm open to questions."

"I think I'm good for now," Burt decided, he eyed the pair of them for a moment. Kurt was smiling tentatively at Burt and when he turned to Blaine his smile bloomed into an enormous grin. Burt's stomach twisted at the sight. God, he wanted them to be happy, wanted Kurt to be able to feel how he felt openly and with the boy of his choice, but Blaine...

He was only going to get his heart broken if he took that route.

A wave of lightheadedness washed over Burt for a moment and his left arm suddenly felt numb. With a frown, he clenched and unclenched his fist as the boys started eating again. The odd sensation disappeared as he looked back up at Kurt, face excited as he explained some new ascot he'd seen in some fashion magazine.

In another eight months that smile would vanish again, maybe forever. It was unlike any of the one's Burt had ever seen on Kurt before and he hated the thought of it disappearing. The idea of anything disappearing from Kurt's life now or then made him feel sick.

"All right, guys," Burt yawned, standing up and scooping up his empty plate. "I'm gonna hit the hay. I open tomorrow." He passed by Blaine, patted him on the shoulder, then did the same to Kurt. "Night, Kurt."

"Night, Dad! Don't you dare skip breakfast in the morning!" Kurt hollered after him.

Burt snorted as he made his way upstairs, but nodded his head anyway. He never skipped breakfast, even if he didn't have what Kurt wanted him to eat. Breakfast of champions had never failed him yet.

After a good night's sleep, Burt was up at five, grabbing a cup of coffee on his way out the door and towards the shop. He stopped off at the gas station on the corner for breakfast, snatching up several Slim Jims and a breakfast burrito, before parking behind the shop and heading in. The place was empty for now, but there were already several appointments set up for the morning, and just him there until the third vehicle arrived at eight.

Burt took his time running through the shop, opening garage doors and checking various machines and tool tables. By the time he'd run through his checklist and had opened the office, the sun was up and his first customer of the day was there to drop off. He checked the man's Taurus in, gave him an estimated pick up time, the shop's phone number, and then pulled the vehicle into the first bay.

It was a quarter after seven when he was interrupted again.

"Dad, I brought you breakfast."

Burt looked up from the car he was working on and set down his wrench.

"I already ate, bud," he said, easily taking the offered bag from his son. Kurt rolled his eyes and waited until Burt stepped over to his bench. "Breakfast of champions."

"Dad, that isn't breakfast and you know it," Kurt snapped indignantly. "You can't eat like a teenage boy anymore."

"Oh, it's just one breakfast," Burt chuckled dismissively.

Blaine appeared in the open bay door, looking around the shop as he approached.

"I dunno, Mr. Hummel," Blaine offered uncertainly. "I mean, I've kicked the bucket, but even I don't eat," Blaine paused and picked up the empty Slim Jim wrappers from the bench, "this for breakfast."

"Don't worry about it, guys," Burt insisted, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands off. "Shouldn't you be getting to school?"

"Yeah, but–"

"I'll eat whatever you brought for lunch, okay?" Burt said, nudging Kurt towards the bay door. "Now, go on. I've got work, you've got school. I'll see you guys for family dinner tonight."

"Okay," Kurt agreed, he skipped over to Burt, wrapped him in a tight hug, and then hurried out with Blaine. "Bye, Dad! We'll see you tonight! Blaine's already picked the movie!"

"It better not end with you two in tears!" Burt hollered after them.

He smiled and laughed a little as Blaine attempted to wave over his shoulder, but Kurt yanked him around the corner and out of sight. Those two were quite a pair already. He only wished he could see them have a lot more for a lot longer.

For the next hour, Burt worked steadily through his first vehicle, finished the oil change and tire rotation, and was just getting ready to take a break now that Tommy was in, when his third appointment checked in for the day.

"How you doing?" Burt greeted, grabbing his rag and wiping his hands off before he shook the man's hand. "You're the transmission flush and re-alignment, right?"

The man agreed and they chatted for a few minutes, talking about football and a few other things the man was worried about on his vehicle.

"Yeah, I can check your brake pads and all of that, no extra charge," Burt assured him, flipping his appointment book open. He went to scoop up his pen and, like last night, his whole arm went numb again. A tightness in his chest followed, like a mechanical hand closing around his heart and crushing it. His knees buckled and shook as the fist clenched and crushed. What was– heart burn didn't feel like this.

"Really? Thanks, most of the other places don't– hey, are you all right, man?"

It took Burt a second to realize he'd stumbled when he'd tried to grab his pen again. He'd take a pill for the ache and he'd been fine. Pain shot up his left arm, sizzling through his veins like electricity as an enormous pressure barreled into him. It was like a sledgehammer had slammed into his chest from inside as his vision tipped sideways.

"Woah, buddy– take it easy– "

Somehow the car in front of him had disappeared. His head was throbbing, his heart was hammering in his ears, irregular and thunderous like a stampede. Someone dropped down beside him. There was a hand on his shoulder. Rough, unfamiliar.

Where was Kurt? Kurt needed him to complain about Blaine's movie choice tonight. To decide on dinner. To make sure he had an embrace to return to when his heart got broken in June. Kurt was– where– why was the ceiling staring down at him?

"B- Burt? Oh, man–"

His vision swam, his lungs were floating somewhere they couldn't breathe. As his eyes slipped closed, Burt felt himself start drifting. Down, down, down... Maybe Elizabeth would be there, waiting.

As the bell rang for lunch, Blaine allowed Kurt to tug him upright and out into the hallway. The whole morning had been a blur so far. Even yesterday had barely settled in his head. Kurt and Burt both knew the truth about him, yet somehow he was still here. It still didn't make any sense to him, but he let it slide. There was nobody here that he could ask about it, because Jack certainly didn't know. This was only his second mission, so he knew even less than Blaine. For now it was a question that would just have to wait until he left. Part of Blaine even liked to think that perhaps Kurt had been right when he'd suggested that they were supposed to know. If nothing else, it gave Blaine someone to talk to about what had happened and that should make it easier to deal with. He hoped it would at any rate.

It was weird being by Kurt's side again after two weeks of not talking to each other. Part of him felt guilty and selfish for ignoring Kurt, but he'd been scared and furious. Having his death shoved right under his nose had been panic-inducing, much like panic attacks he'd had when he was alive. It had been a long time since he'd felt such gripping hysteria and he had no interest in revisiting it anytime soon. He was here for Kurt and that was that.

"So, I don't know if you already have plans tomorrow, but–"

"Plans with who exactly?" Blaine asked with a playful nudge as they joined the queue of students waiting to buy their lunches. "I know it's been a few weeks, but you are my only friend."

"We really do have to change that," Kurt remarked with a frown. "For both of us. Mercedes has been really nice to me recently."

"She seems lovely," Blaine agreed. "Voice like an angel." He grimaced at the word and the way it made Kurt freeze beside him. Perhaps that turn of phrase wasn't the best way to put it.

"Yeah, she's nice," Kurt said as he grabbed a tray and then passed it over to the lunch lady. "Spaghetti, please," he turned back to Blaine. "So there's this play down at the Revival Theater this weekend. It opened tonight, but Friday Family Dinner is tonight, so... "

"I'd love to go," Blaine assured him. "I haven't seen a play since my sophomore year. My real sophomore year," he added pointedly. "I was Hamlet that year."

"Wow, really? We haven't done a play here since I started high school," Kurt said sadly. "I wish we could do one. West Side Story or Grease would probably work. It'll never happen; there isn't enough interest, but it'd be so much fun."

"If you slicked your hair back you'd make quite a charming Danny Zuko," Blaine complimented. He regretted it almost immediately when Kurt gave him a shy smile that made his stomach swoop. Blaine had missed hanging out with Kurt, but he wasn't sure if he'd missed the way his body reacted to such simple things.

"Yeah, as long as you didn't try out," Kurt retorted teasingly. "You'd be wonderful with the role."

They passed through the line quickly, paid for their meals, and settled down at their usual table in the back corner. Just as Blaine was getting ready to bring up what play the theater was putting on this weekend, Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury burst through the doors across the room. He took one look at their faces and knew something major was up. They were both flushed and upset, though Blaine didn't have the slightest idea why until their eyes turned towards their corner and landed on Kurt.

Stomach sinking, Blaine took Kurt's hand instinctively and nodded behind him where Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury were approaching. The closer they got, the worse their expressions became. Ms. Pillsbury looked devastated and close to tears. Mr. Schuester didn't look much better.

"Kurt? Can we see you out in the hall?"

Kurt's smile faltered and fell as he took in their faces. Heart in his throat, Blaine stood up with Kurt and kept a firm grip on his hand. Mr. Schuester glanced at him as though he was going to tell him to stay put, but when he took in their joined hands he seemed to think better of it. The silence only confirmed Blaine's worst fear. Something had happened to Burt. Nothing else made sense.

Once they were out in the hall, Ms. Pillsbury gently placed her hand on Kurt's shoulder as Mr. Schuester ran his hands through his hair. Blaine knew she was trying to be comforting, but as soon as she touched Kurt his entire body tensed and he bit his lip, looking terrified.

"What's wrong?" he demanded quietly. "Why are you pulling us into the hall? If it's about the Britney number, can't we discuss it during class–"

"Kurt, sweetheart," Ms. Pillsbury cut in sadly. "We, um, we just got a call from the hospital. Your dad had a heart attack a few hours ago."

"What?"

Blaine shut his eyes for a moment as Kurt's expression flickered from confused to disbelieving to terrified. He'd expected something bad when they'd looked over at Kurt like they'd just been told their lives were ending in ten minutes, but he had hoped it wasn't as terrible as a heart attack.

"I- is he okay? Can I see him? Where is he? I'm going–"

Kurt let out a choked noise as Blaine opened his eyes again and pulled him into his arms. The other boy was trembling like a kitten left out in the rain. Blaine hooked his arms up and under Kurt's and hugged him tightly as Kurt buried his face into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, I've got you," Blaine murmured softly, gazing over at Ms. Pillsbury and urgently trying to tell her with his eyes to explain more.

"The nurse said he was still in bypass surgery," she continued gently. "I'm not sure on much else. They wouldn't tell us anything more because we aren't family, but we've already cleared you to leave for the day."

Kurt nodded and stepped back a bit. The sight of him crying was enough to make Blaine want to. Burt could still not make it if he was in surgery. For all any of them knew Burt could be dying or dead right at this moment.

Voice strained, Blaine settled his arm around Kurt's shoulders as Mr. Schuester ushered him towards the door. "I'm going, too."

"Blaine–"

"I'm his best friend and I'm going with him," Blaine snapped, brushing Mr. Schuester's hand away as Ms. Pillsbury pulled open the door to the parking lot. For a moment, Blaine looked across the way towards the student lot adjacent. Even at a distance, he could pick out the filled in pothole outlined in thick black tar where he'd fought for his own life five decades ago. He hoped Burt's struggle didn't end the same way. The very idea of having to take Burt back with him, or for him to be here because Kurt was losing his father, too, was too much. After everything Kurt had already been through, he deserved so much better than that.

The ride to the hospital was filled with Kurt's silent tears and his short gasping breathes every few minutes. In the front seat, Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schuester were silent as he drove, but their joined hands told Blaine they were just as worried as he was. Blaine kept a firm grip on Kurt's hand as they pulled up to the hospital's main doors and made sure he kept the hold as they talked to the front desk, were directed to an elevator and the right floor, and then led to a waiting room in the back corner of the seventh floor.

Kurt said nothing as they sat for the next hour, alternating between pacing and curling up against Blaine. For his part, Blaine said nothing either. He quietly answered Mr. Schuester's questions about either of them needing anything, but otherwise he kept a hold on Kurt's hand and gave him what he could for now. The only thing Kurt really needed was a doctor to come tell him how his father was and Mr. Schuester couldn't give him that. As Kurt began to settle down beside him again, a doctor appeared in the entry way, looking solemn, but not devastated.

Blaine had dealt with enough death cases to know how a doctor looked when he brought the absolute worst news to a patient's family. This man looked upset, but not alarmingly so.

"Family of Burt Hummel?" he called out.

Kurt rushed to his feet, stumbling over himself in his haste to get up.

"Where is he? Is my dad okay? Is–"

The doctor smiled slightly, but nodded towards the hallway. "They're moving him to a room right now. Let's go talk out there and I'll show you where, okay?"

Kurt nodded, eyes tearing up in relief. Blaine's stomach unclenched some, too. Burt was still alive. He'd survived a heart attack just like Cooper had nine years ago. That one had been relieving and even a little disappointing for Blaine. The idea of seeing Cooper again after so long had been remarkably appealing, but he couldn't stand the thought of his brother dying either. It had easily been one of the most complicated emotions Blaine had ever felt, half tormenting himself because some part of him had longed to have his brother by his side once more.

They followed the man – Dr. Burnes according to his name tag – out into the hall and then around a corner to a door.

"It's not all good news," he began. "We managed to stabilize him and perform a bypass around the blockage, but the lack of oxygen was damaging. He went into a coma during the operation from it."

Blaine swallowed as they stopped outside of a door. Room 714. This had to be where Burt had been moved. He stared hard at the thick, black numbers screwed into the door and the blinds that had been pulled shut for privacy. It was weird to think such a courtesy had been given when the room's only occupant wasn't aware of blinds, light, or anyone passing by.

"But– when he is going to wake up?"

"I don't know," the doctor admitted simply. "I wish I had an answer for you, but with a coma, there's really no way of telling. Some wake up in a few hours, some a few days, and others... There's no straight forward answer, I'm afraid."

It wasn't anything Blaine had wanted to hear. He looked over at Kurt, who flinched slightly, but nodded and asked to see his dad. The doctor led him in, but Blaine stayed behind as Kurt pulled his hand out of Blaine's grip. The three of them watched the door close behind Kurt.

"I should go see if Carole is working," Mr. Schuester decided. "She'll want to know if she doesn't already. And Finn, too. She'll want to tell him. I should have taken him out of class, too."

"It's better that he stayed," Blaine said quietly. "I think he'd just upset Kurt right now. He kind of has no tact."

Ms. Pillsbury squeezed his shoulder. "Are you okay, Blaine? I know this is probably pretty close to home for you after what you've been through recently."

Blaine almost snorted at her words. She really had no idea just how close it was to his situation or anything involving him. A coma meant prolonged inactivity; it could easily mean Burt remained comatose until the summer and then, when it was time for Blaine to go back, Kurt would have to make the decision to pull the plug and see what happened. It could mean Kurt choosing to send his father back with Blaine and losing them both. Feeling sick and shaky, Blaine leaned back against the wall and tried to shake Ms. Pillsbury off.

"I'm fine. Just worried about Kurt," he admitted honestly.

He didn't want to think about the turmoil of emotions Kurt was going through. All of the fears and anxieties were probably suffocating him and now he was all alone with his father's silent, immobile form in a hospital bed.

"If you ever want to talk," she offered kindly. "You, or Kurt, or both of you together, my door is open."

"Thanks," he muttered gruffly.

She turned back to Mr. Schuester and, much to Blaine's surprise, gave him a brief hug. "I'm going to head back to McKinley, okay? Tell Carole to call me if she wants Finn to come over."

Mr. Schuester agreed, checked with Blaine for a minute, and then disappeared down the hall to see if Carole was on-call right now. Blaine sunk down against the wall across from the door, looking at the white sterile tiles without really seeing any of it. He'd never made it as far as the hospital. His last view of the world had been through flecks of blood in his eyelashes in a dark, cold parking lot. He hadn't even made it long enough to still be conscious when another student had finally found him.

Had someone been there with Burt when the heart attack had happened? Blaine hoped so. He hoped someone had been around and made the call immediately. It might be the only reason Burt was still alive. He had other people to look out for him, that cared and were around to keep an eye out. As Blaine drew his knees up to his chest, he leaned his head back, shut his eyes, and focused on breathing. Kurt needed him more than anything right now. He needed his best friend to be ready and strong when he opened that door again.

Kurt was in his father's room for a long time. Blaine sat outside, watching doctors and nurses rush past and eventually greeting Mr. Schuester when he returned to say that Carole was going to get Finn and then they'd be over here, too. He left shortly after to go wait down in the lobby for them, but Blaine almost wished he'd stayed as a distraction. Being in a hospital was suffocating. The white walls and floors and equipment was probably meant to make the space feel more open and softer, but it was blinding for Blaine; a complete contrast to the death and misery he remembered.

The door clicked open a few minutes later and Blaine scrambled to his feet as Kurt gently pulled it shut. He was just about to step forward to hug Kurt again when Kurt looked up.

Blaine was so startled by the harsh look that he took a step back.

"I think you should go," Kurt snapped, sniffing slightly as he rubbed at his red eyes. "I don't–"

"What?" Blaine asked in bewilderment. "Kurt, I don't think you should be alone right now–"

"You knew!" Kurt shouted, his voice cracking as more tears started to fall. He glanced down the hallway and lowered his voice again. "You knew this was going to happen. And you're– you're– you can't have him! He's my dad, he's not leaving me, okay?"

Chest throbbing like an open sore, Blaine stared at him for a long moment. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, his nose was glistening with trails of tears and snot, and his lips were quivering, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was terrified that what Blaine suspected as a worst case scenario was true; that Blaine being here meant losing the only parent he had left.

"Kurt, that's not– I didn't know, I swear to you that I had no idea," Blaine began earnestly, trying to ease his hand into Kurt's, but the other boy ripped his away. The movement was harsher than any of Kurt's words had been. Blaine clamped his fist closed around cold air and tried to ignore the way his heart deflated. "I don't know what's going to happen in five minutes any better than you do–"

"No," Kurt snapped, shaking his head. "Y- you were here after my mom and now you're here again and my dad's in the hospital and–"

He shook his head roughly and batted Blaine's hand away again. Right now, his honesty wasn't going to do him any good. Kurt was too upset; too scared about what had happened this morning and the fact that his father might never wake up. Blaine understood it, but it still hurt to have Kurt's pain taken out on him when he only wanted to comfort him.

Kurt fumbled for the door knob behind him and pushed the door open. He didn't say anything else as he hurried in and shut the door again. Throat tight, Blaine leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes once more. Kurt needed him now more than ever and he was shutting him out. He couldn't leave him here alone, but Kurt didn't want him around either. Completely torn, Blaine stood there, wondering what to do or if he should go get Kurt coffee and something to eat. The only thing he knew was that he hated being left alone in that hallway with only the sickening thought that Kurt might be right.