Nightingale

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee nor do I own Nightingale by Ms. Demi Lovato.

A/n: This story takes place during season 2 after Burt's heart attack and Sam already joined the glee club in the Audition episode. Let's see if I've lost my touch. I hope you enjoy. Warning: Story mentions death and the thought of suicide.

Kurt had been staying with Mercedes since the incident. That's what he called it: the incident. He couldn't say his dad was dead; it would only make it more real. He didn't, couldn't think about the fact that he was all alone now. His dad was now reunited with his mom, but where did that leave him? To be honest, he never really felt like singing anymore, but he had something he needed to say to someone, and he was hoping that person would get it. It was all he knew to do at this point. He slowly made his way to the piano and took a seat. Before he began to play, he couldn't help but flashback to when he was helping Finn with a glee assignment and mumbling something about never missing a piano lesson. For a moment he wanted to laugh, but what came out only sounded like a grunt. Gathering his composure, he cleared his throat, sat up straight, and began to play.

I can't sleep tonight, wide awake and so confused
Everything's in line, but I am bruised
I need a voice to echo, I need a light to take me home
I kinda need a hero, is it you?
I never see the forest for the trees, I could really use your melody
Baby I'm a little blind, I think it's time for you to find me

Kurt remembers the first time he went back to his house alone after his dad's death. When he stumbled upon his dad's half full coffee mug still sitting at the table next to the newspaper, he froze. He should've known not to go there by himself. Hell, Mercedes thought he was just going to the park for some fresh air. Kurt was shocked out of his thoughts when he heard a soft knock on the door and it slowly being pushed open. Even more surprising was seeing the beat up sneakers, the baggie jeans, the red letterman jacket, a mop of soft blonde hair, and a sad half-smile on the person's face. It was Sam. Sam, who was currently stabbing his toe into the carpet. Seeing his friend standing there in strong, silent support, Kurt did something that he usually would never do. He walked straight to Sam, wrapped his arms around his waist and cried. When the other set of arms encircled him, he fell even more into the larger teen's embrace. And when those arms tightened, he knew that he could let go and break down. He didn't have to be the strong one right now. For the first time since the incident, he didn't feel so empty or alone.

Can you be my Nightingale, sing to me I know you're there
You could be my sanity, bring me peace, sing me to sleep
Say you'll be my Nightingale

Tears streaming down his face, Kurt lifted his head to see the rest of his friends. They all had tears falling, but there was one person in particular that he was interested in. He stared into Sam's eyes. Sam was crying, yes, but he was keeping his composure for Kurt. He sent a small smile Kurt's way with a little nod.

Somebody speak to me, cause I'm feeling like hell
Need you to answer me, I'm overwhelmed
I need a voice to echo, I need a light to take me home
I need a star to follow, I don't know
I never see the forest for the trees, I could really use your melody
Baby I'm a little blind, I think it's time for you to find me

Kurt remembers the first couple of weeks after his dad was gone. Carole and all his friends had been afraid to leave him alone; afraid he'd try to hurt himself. To be honest, yes he's thought about it. After all, he was the only Hummel left. Yes he has his parents' house, but he can't live there by himself for the rest of high school. Carole offered to let him stay with her and Finn, but after that God awful even in his basement he knew neither he nor Finn would be too comfortable with that. Anyway, it was a Sunday, Mercedes and her family had gone to church at his insistence, leaving him at their house alone. He was walking aimlessly around a home he knew as well as his own when he stopped at the elder Jones's bedroom door. He only hesitated for a second before entering and heading toward the bathroom and the medicine cabinet. Inside he found the typical headache medicine, cough syrup, eye drops, etc, but he also found a bottle of Mrs. Jones's sleeping pills. She must not have used many since the bottle was practically full. He grabbed the bottle, stopped in the guest room to grab his keys, and headed to the door. He opened the door expecting no one to be there, yet hand raised ready to knock was Sam Evans himself. Sam opened his mouth to speak when he looked down and saw the bottle in the pale teen's hand. Quietly he guided Kurt back into the house, shut the door, removed the pills from Kurt's hand, and gently asked, "you don't really wanna do this, do you?"

Kurt took a moment to really think it over, "yes and no. I don't wanna be alone anymore, but I know my mom and dad expect better of me."

"Then let's go put these back where you found them."

"How do you always know?" Sam gave a low chuckle and smiled as they made their way back upstairs.

Can you be my Nightingale, sing to me I know you're there
You could be my sanity, bring me peace, sing me to sleep
Say you'll be my Nightingale

When Kurt comes to the chorus again, he's surprised to hear another voice blending beautifully with his. Blinking the tears away the best he can, he watches as Sam stands up and makes his way to stand next to the piano, acting almost as if it was staged that way. They both knew it wasn't planned; it was instinct.

I don't know what I'd do without you
Your words are like a whisper come through
As long as you're with me here tonight, I'm good

Kurt flashes back to an incident that occurred about a month after his dad died. Apparently the school Neanderthals thought it has been a sufficient amount of time for Kurt to grieve because the bullying escalated fast. He felt the ice of each slushy he received in between every class, he felt every locker slam, punch, and kick they gave him, he picked up his books every time they knocked them out of his hands. He held his head eye every time they'd throw threats his way. It wasn't until some jock said, "daddy couldn't handle having a faggot for a son," that Kurt froze. He didn't even realize he was slowly being surrounded by jocks. The only thing he could do was think, is it true? Did I kill him? "Hey, jackasses, get the hell away from him!" a voice coming from outside the crowd yelled. Kurt was so out of it he barely even heard it. "I guess we'll have to do this the hard way then," the voice said when no one moved. "Get the hell away from him," it said, and then a loud oomph could be heard. It continued on like this for who knows how long. When Kurt finally came to, it was to find a jock or two scattered on the floor, the rest having run away. He also came to see Sam standing before him with a slight cut on his lip looking at him worriedly. "Kurt, did any of them touch you?"

"I don't think so. What happened?"

"You were surrounded by a dozen jocks and you weren't talking or moving."

"Yeah, one of them said something. I guess I kinda spaced out for a little bit. What happened to your lip?"

"They wouldn't get away from you, so I fought my way through. Only one or two got a good hit in."

"You took all of them on yourself? Are you insane?"

"Oh, it wasn't that big of a deal. What did they say to you?"

"That my dad couldn't handle having a faggot for a son. That's why he's dead. Because of me."

Sam grabbed hold of Kurt's chin so their eyes were connected, "don't, for even a second, believe anything those morons say. Your dad loved you and was so proud of you. Every time I saw him, he couldn't stop saying how amazing you are. I promise you this Kurt, your dad couldn't have asked for a better son and he wouldn't have traded you for the world."

Kurt tried to hold in his tears for as long as he could but it was a losing battle. Sam pulled him into a hug, making Kurt both grateful for that and for the words he'd just been given. His head resting on Sam's shoulder, he didn't dare move, just whispered, "thank you."

Can you be my Nightingale, feel so close I know you're there
Ohhhh Nightingale, sing to me, I know you're there
Cause baby you're my sanity, you bring me peace, send me to sleep
Say you'll be my Nightingale

Sam watched as Kurt finished off the song. He held out a hand to help Kurt up from the piano chair. Pale hand in his, he pulled the other boy close. He held him as tightly as he could without hurting him. He understood everything Kurt was trying to express with that song. Mouth next to Kurt's ear, where only he could hear, he whispered, "I'll be anything you need me to be. I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere. You once asked how I always knew. It's because I'm meant to know. I can't be your Nightingale if you're not here, now can I?"

For the first time since his dad died he laughed. He laughed with a big smile on his face right there in front of the entire glee club. Sam had a point. But what he found most important was that Sam understood. For that he'd always be grateful.

Sam took a step back and smiled as he gently brushed the tears from Kurt's face. Then he carefully grabbed Kurt's hand in his own, and guided them back to their seats. Being Kurt's Nightingale had begun long before either of them had even realized it. It's how it was meant to be.

The End

A/N: So…there you have it. Please, feel free to let me know what you think. I actually have quite a few more ideas like this that I'd like to do, but I think I'll wait for a little feedback on this one first. Also, I want to repeat that I do not own any rights to the song used in this fic. Demi Lovato – Nightingale.