Disclaimer: Glee and it's characters are not mine. And everyone else is just made up, so any correlation between non-glee places and people (alive or dead) are merely coincidences unless differently stated in the text.

Part 1/?

Chapter 1, Where Kurt is Garbo

It was cold. It was dark. Faint lights came from the headlights of the car, but they soon died out, just like the sound from the car radio: Silver Bells was still playing when it died, the same song he'd been singing along to when he lost control of the car and skidded off the road, rolling over in the snow ending it's journey against a tree. And the blizzard kept on howling outside. Despite his fluffy, knitted cardigan Kurt Hummel was freezing already and he was certain he was going to die out here in the cold, dark night. The impact had managed to damage the car so he couldn't move, he was stuck.

He looked around for his iPhone to try and call for help, but he spotted it just out of reach, and he could see on the display that there wasn't any signal to be had. Reaching out he could almost touch it, almost. He tried to wriggle free but something was digging into his leg and would probably rip it open if he tried any harder. So the options seemed to be to freeze to death upside down in his car, or out in the snow, with a possibility of a blood loss death before the cold got him. The last minute Christmas shopping had not been such a great idea after all when it came down to it. After a last attempt at reaching his phone, he just gave up and broke into tears. He didn't want to go, not here, not like this. Tomorrow, or whenever they started looking for him, they would find him with a mask of frozen tears over his face. He really hoped he would look peaceful.

Before long he drifted into some dreamlike state. He was exhausted from crying, and cold and also damn tired to begin with. In his dream he heard a familiar voice calling his name and it brought more tears to his eyes to hear most mothers, almost forgotten, voice.

"Don't cry baby. Be strong. Help is on the way."

Crying even harder he drifted off even more, the cold air felt almost hurtful in his lungs when he awoke with a jolt.

"Kurt," a familiar voice, that was not a dream, rang in the car. "It's the middle of the night. What the hell is so important?"

Suddenly wide awake Kurt looked around to try and spot there the sound came from. The inside of the care was softly lip up and he could see his phone. On speaker. And a picture of Sam Evans on the display.

"OH MY GOD!" Kurt shrieked. "SAM, OH GOD SAM!"

He heard Sam chuckle in the darkness of the car.

"Dude, have you been watching horror movies by yourself again? You sound terrified."

"SAM, LISTEN UP!" Kurt shouted so he'd be heard. "I HAD AN ACCIDENT. YOU HAVE TO GET HELP."

He could hear Sam scramble out of bed and rummage for pen and paper. How ironic that the one his phone spontaneously had dialed up had the be the dyslectic one. Then again, Sam was the last used number in the phone, he had texted him a reminder about chipping in for a gift for Mr. Schuester.

"Kurt? Are you still there?"

"I SLID OFF THE ROAD NEAR WIDOW'S CROOK, I'M STUCK AND CAN'T GET LOOSE."

"Stuck in the car, Widow's Crook. I got it! Just hang in th..."

The call disconnected and Kurt could see that once again there was no signal. Had there been any during the call? There had got to have been. The car was all cold and dark again, and Kurt hoped that they would find and rescue him in time. Bless that blond lunkhead. If he did die before the rescue team got there, he knew they'd find him with a smile on his face. Though he guessed the beautiful death mask of ice was out of the question now that his tears had dried.

There was a terrible banging. Kurt wanted to cover his ears but he was to cold to move his arms. What was that noise? Why couldn't he be allowed to die in peace? Suddenly there was a bright light, smack in his face. And voices. Many voices calling his name. Blinking he opened his eyes and through the frost on the car window he could make out the blurry shape of a police officer.

"Kurt? Kurt Hummel? Are you OK?"

Kurt groaned, his throat really sore from the cold air and he mumbled, "I want to be alone," echoing Greta Garbo in Grand Hotel from 1932.

"He's alive!" the police man called out and Kurt could hear cheers and suddenly his father's face was all over the windscreen, worry and fear painted all over it. Before long the rescue party got to work, freeing the car and cutting Kurt free from it.

Despite his protests a pair of paramedics strapped him to a stretcher to bring him in to the hospital to check him for any damage, both internal and frost. It was hard to see in the dark, despite all the lamps, but he could make out his father, Carole and Finn. Mercedes, Rachel and Sam. All wrapped up in winter coats, scarves and caps. Burt got in the ambulance with him, while Carole ushered the others to the cars. Apparently there would be hot chocolate and sandwiches at their place.

"You're a lucky boy," the police officer said before the ambulance doors closed. "The car had snowed over and if it wasn't for your headlights we wouldn't have spotted you in the dark.

Kurt just blinked. How could they have been on when the car had been stone dead? He didn't think of it for long though, as the warm blankets and his father's reassuring hand in his, let him relax and soon it all went dark again.

To be continued