Authors note: This fic is based on Dead Like Me, but all characters are either Glee or original. I do not own Glee or Dead Like Me or any characters contained therein.

One more point of note, in this story, Sue Sylvester is not the coach of the Cheerios and is in no way associated with McKinley. She plays another major role in the story. Enjoy!

Kurt Hummel tapped his pencil impatiently against his history notebook. He could almost hear the ticking of the clock on the wall above Mr. Treadaway as it slowly marched toward three fifteen. He couldn't quite figure out if he was anxious for the bell to ring, or if he was dreading it. He wasn't looking forward to going home and talking with his dad, that's for sure, but he found himself counting down the minutes just the same. A tap on Kurt's shoulder broke him out of his uneasy watch and he turned his head slightly to see the note being handed to him over his right shoulder by Jennie Trotsky. He smiled as he recognized his own name written in Blaine Anderson's tiny, slanted script. Keeping one eye on Mr. Treadaway, who had already issued him one demerit this week for texting in class, Kurt slowly unfolded the paper.

Kurt,

Please don't do this on my behalf. I wish I hadn't even told you about the open mic thing tomorrow night. I know how important Friday dinners are to your family and I don't want to mess that up in any way. In fact, I'm telling you not to come. So that's it.

Kurt smirked at Blaine's attempt to make this decision for him. Didn't he know better by this point in their relationship? He shook his head as he scribbled out his reply.

Blaine, dear, you know it doesn't work that way. When I make up my mind, is it really a good use of your time and energy trying to change it back? Now, once I explain everything to my dad, I'm sure he'll understand. It'll be fine, so stop freaking out. I love you.

Who am I trying to convince, me or him? Kurt thought to himself as he folded the paper back up and surreptitiously reached back and placed the note back on Jennie's desk. He chanced a glance backward to her and she rolled her eyes as she past the note back to Blaine sitting behind her. Kurt cocked his head and smiled slightly at her as if to say sorry, but thank you. She offered a small lopsided smile in return and Kurt returned his attention to the clock which was dangerously close to that magical time. Only about thirty seconds passed before the folded up note landed on his desk again. He unfolded it and read.

Kurt…(Kurt could almost hear Blaine's resigned sigh bleeding into the paper), I love you too.

Kurt only had a couple of seconds to revel in his victory before the shrill ringing of the bell startled him into getting up with the rest of his classmates and gathering his belongings.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" Blaine said, clapping his hand onto Kurt's shoulder. Kurt turned toward his boyfriend, shoving the note into his pocket, unable to hide the accomplished look on his face.

"Start believing, Blaine." Kurt replied as they headed out into the hallway toward their row of lockers. "You knew what you were signing up for when you told me you had been looking for me forever."

"I just don't want to come in between you and your family tradition. The open mic night is so not a big deal, and I never would have said anything if I had realized that April 6th was a Friday."

Kurt sighed and put his hands on Blaine's shoulders, squaring the other boy and dipping his head slightly to stare into his adorable boyfriends worried eyes. "Blaine listen, I know that the last time I tried to skip out on a Friday night dinner it didn't turn out that well. But things are different now, Dad's got Carol and Finn and I guarantee they won't ever miss me."

Blaine leaned in until his forehead was resting on Kurt's for a moment before pulling away and turning the dial on his lock. "Fine, but promise me that you will call me tonight after you've talked to Burt. I don't want to go to bed without knowing whether or not he's going to kill me next time he sees me."

"Don't be silly," Kurt scoffed. "He would never be mad at you. He knows both of us well enough to be able to figure out who made the decision on this one." He gave Blaine a chaste kiss on the cheek and headed out to the senior parking lot. As he climbed into his car, Kurt steeled himself mentally before turning the key in the ignition and started driving to Hummel Tire and Lube.

"This is going to be fun." Kurt muttered to himself as he pulled into the parking lot of his father's business. He had sent a text message to his dad during lunch letting him know that he was stopping by after school to have a chat. Sure enough, when he pushed open the customer entrance door to the garage, he saw his dad sitting in the tiny office on the opposite wall. Kurt pushed his shoulders back and lifted his chin as he sauntered as nonchalantly as possible over to where his dad was sitting.

"Kurt," Burt acknowledge his son with a hint of suspicion in his voice. The only times Kurt ever announced that he was stopping by for a chat was when he wanted money or needed to break some bad news to him. "How was school?"

"Fine dad, listen, there's an open mic night at the Lima Bean tomorrow and Blaine's performing and I'm going to go support him."

Kurt drew in a shaky breath. He hadn't meant to rush through it like that, but it was like pulling off a bandaid. The sooner it was out in the open, the sooner he could deal with the fallout.

"Tomorrow is Friday."

"I'm aware, Dad, but—"

"No buts, Kurt. Tomorrow is Friday and that means Friday night dinner. No exceptions."

"Dad, it's just one Friday. Besides, Carol and Finn will be there."

"Are you a part of this family?"

"Of course I am." Kurt was losing this battle and he knew it.

"Then you better be there." Burt started stacking the paper invoices on his desk with an air of finality. Kurt could feel the heat rising up his neck and start to color his cheeks. This was not going as planned.

"What is that supposed to mean? If I'm not there, I'm out of the family?" Kurt jumped out of his seat and put some distance between himself and the desk. He knew that this wasn't what Burt meant, but once Kurt Hummel got himself worked up, there was no turning back.

"Don't be dramatic, Kurt. You know good and well that my love for you is unconditional. I just wish you could get it through your head that the world doesn't revolve around you. Now you will be at that dinner tomorrow night if it's the last thing you do, you hear me?" Burt stared his son right in the eye and waited for Kurt to relent. A stare down between the two stubborn Hummels was not uncommon, and Burt was prepared to sit there all night and into Friday if he had to. Kurt had no intention of making him wait that long. It was rare, but Kurt knew a lost cause when he saw it. Not that it made him any less angry.

Kurt finally broke eye contact as tears started to burn the brim of his bottom eye lids. He was angry. Deep down he knew his father was right and he silently cursed himself for making such a fuss over the weekly ritual two times in as many years. He couldn't let Burt know he'd won that easy, though. He shot one final look at his father before stalking out of the office and heading toward the front door.

"Hey, where are you going?" Burt shouted after him. "Kurt!" But the front door had swung shut and Burt assumed that Kurt hadn't heard him. He watched as his son climbed into his SUV and drove off in the opposite direction from home.

"Kid just needs to let off some steam." Burt muttered to himself as he grabbed a clip board and headed back to work on a midsize with misaligned brake pads. He knew his son would come around and by tomorrow, he may even be ready to apologize for how he acted toward his dad. Burt chuckled at the image in his head of Kurt coming to him tomorrow, wringing his hands and asking for forgiveness for his behavior. Kurt may be dramatic, but he was just as much predictable. He'd come around, Burt reassured himself.

Kurt's hands were shaking hard as he made a left turn out of the parking lot. He gripped the steering wheel as hard as he could to try to settle them, but the tremors just moved to his shoulders instead. It had been a while since he had gotten himself this worked up over something. He glanced into his rearview mirror, half expecting Burt to be following him. Kurt had heard his father yell out after him as he stomped out of the shop, but he pretended he hadn't. He felt slightly guilty for not acknowledging Burt when he asked him where he was off too, but he had been too angry and flustered and anything he would have said to his dad at that point would have been mean and Kurt would have regretted saying it immediately. Fights between the two were rare, but Kurt had made that mistake before.

As he rolled to a stop at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green, Kurt noticed the glowing green light on his cell phone, which he had thrown on the passenger seat earlier. He reached over and picked it up. There was a missed call from Blaine and then a text message from him as well.

Everything okay?

Decidedly not, Kurt thought to himself and started to tap out a message.

No, I- Kurt dropped the phone when the car behind him laid on the horn. The light was green and Kurt hadn't been paying attention. He sheepishly raised his hand to the driver behind him as he continued on through the intersection. He was a pretty impatient driver himself, so he felt bad for inconveniencing the other driver. Kurt decided to just get to his destination and then worry about how he was going to break the news to Blaine. By this point he was only about five minutes away from the park anyway.

Whenever he was upset about something, Kurt found himself making his way to the nature trail that looped around Bridgemill Park and Baseball Complex. The gentle hills and thick canopy of tree limbs covering certain areas of the path had a soothing effect on him. The park was also a source of a lot of good memories for Kurt. He could remember his first tee-ball game when he was five and how proud his mom and dad had been when he hit the ball straight through the first baseman's legs and made it all the way to third base without stopping. Kurt laughed to himself as he remembered how excited he had been for remembering which direction to run after hitting the ball. Kurt loved playing tee-ball-it had been the first and only sport he ever played, and probably would have continued playing had the other boys not noticed something different about Kurt and begun mercilessly teasing him about it. The best part about playing, though, wasn't hitting the ball or fielding a grounder, it was looking over to the bleachers and seeing the look of pride on his father's face. He never felt like his dad was disappointed in him for who he was, but there was no denying that when Kurt did "boy" things, his father puffed out his chest a little more and made sure that those around him knew that was "his boy".

Kurt was still lost in thought as he put his car in park and hopped out, sliding his cell phone into his pocket and closing the door. He forgot about finishing his text to Blaine as he conjured up another happy memory, this one about his mom teaching him about the different trees and bushes along the nature path. Kurt always loved it when his mom would let him bring his crayons and paper on the path with them so he could make rubbings of different leaves and tree bark. She would always make a big deal about them and call Kurt her little Monet as she displayed them on the refrigerator.

There was shouting coming from the other side of the park. Kurt looked up from the path and saw the bright lights that began springing up around one of the diamonds. It looked like a game was starting up. It wasn't tee-ball though, this time. The players were much older. Maybe a church league? Kurt thought to himself. Maybe he would stop over and watch for a few minutes. He didn't care too much for watching sports on television, but there was something appealing to him about watching baseball live, and that may or may not have had something to do with Kurt's slight attraction to men in uniforms.

Kurt was almost over to the baseball diamond when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Shoot, he thought, remembering his half-finished text to Blaine. He pulled the phone out and continued walking. It was another text from Blaine.

You're not still talking with your dad are you? I'm starting to worry...

Kurt hated that he had made Blaine worry and tapped out a quick message to him.

Nothing to worry about. Talk didn't go as planned and I went to the park to go clear my head. I'll call you in a bit.

"Kurt?"

Kurt stopped in his tracks as he heard an unfamiliar voice shout out his name. Ever since things had gotten intense with the Karofsky situation last year, he was slightly more jumpy when he was out alone. He quickly took in his surroundings before turning around. It was dusk, which made him nervous, but he was now walking on the part of the path that was almost parallel with the third base line of the diamond and there were plenty of people shuffling around at the concession stand as well as about two dozen sitting on the bleachers to his left.

"Um, yes?" Kurt answered as he turned around and came face to face with a well-dressed man who looked to be in his early forties.

"I think you dropped this." The man smiled as he handed Kurt a folded up sheet of paper with his name on it. The note, Kurt sighed.

"Oh, thanks," he said, taking the note from the man. "It must have fallen out of my pocket when I took out my phone." Kurt nodded appreciatively to the man and turned back toward the game in progress. Kurt could hear the guy walk up and stand next to him.

"Say, kid, what's your last name?"

Kurt felt the panic start to rise in his chest again, but he batted it down and put on his best bitch face. If this guy was a stalker, Kurt wanted him to know that he was not to be messed with. "Why do you want to know, creep?"

The man chuckled. "Just making conversation, son. You looked familiar, that's all."

Kurt immediately felt embarrassed. This was probably a regular at his dad's shop and he just went and called him a creep. How much more can I mess up today? He thought bashfully.

"It's Hummel."

"Well, Kurt Hummel," the man said as he reached out a hand and cupped Kurt's shoulder. "Enjoy the game." The man's hand trailed slightly down Kurt's arm before falling off and when his hand left his body, Kurt shivered. Something about the man's touch left him feeling slightly uneasy, and not just because a complete stranger had just invaded his personal space. He didn't have time to dwell on it, though.

"HEADS UP!" Kurt's head snapped in the direction of the baritone yell coming from home plate. Kurt just barely saw the ball as it hurdled towards him, but there wasn't nearly enough time to duck out of the way.

And then, for a brief moment, there was nothing.