AN: So. Hello! Hello. I'm back with another story and I have to say that I'm really nervous about posting this one. I came up with this plot about half a year ago and it niggled at the back of my head for a long time before I decided to write the first chapter. It's still under construction, as in, I'm still in the process of writing everything else, but I'm about eight chapters in already so this isn't going to take too long to finish. At any rate, the plot isn't something I would normally write because, well- for reasons I will explain later on in the story. Whatever. But yeah. I hope you let me know what you think.

Warning for homophobia. And character death (not K or B). So if you're triggered by these things, I don't think you'd appreciate the story.

Anyway. This has been a real challenge to write but I hope you like it.

Disclaimer- I own nothing. Also, as per usual, English isn't my first language. :)

There was a reason Kurt Hummel was a designer in New York City. There was a reason he chose the life he was living, not daring to dabble in a world far beyond his understanding. He was academically intelligent, yes, but he didn't deem it fit to immerse himself in things he had no interest in. The arts was his passion, the one thing that got him out of bed each morning and dictated the people he knew, the social circles he moved in, what he did with his weekends, and the books he read. And New York City was the center of it all, a hodge-podge, a melting pot of creative minds and thriving abundantly with imagination that Kurt never felt like he didn't belong. This was the life he dreamed of throughout high school, and he enjoyed every minute it.

So when his father decided to run for congress, he could only scoff at the idea of being involved. Politics wasn't his thing. As it was, he barely understood how it worked, and he more or less despised the people in position in his home state of Ohio. They were apathetic and insincere, and more caught up in advancing their interests than the common good. He had absolutely no interest involving himself in his father's political dreams, and chose to go on with his life in New York if only to stay as far away from the dirty thing as possible.

But he was proud, of course. He wouldn't downplay the feat his father was undertaking. He knew Burt only considered taking a position because he wanted to make big changes; big legislative changes because he saw how much Kurt had suffered through high school. Ohio was still largely a homophobic state despite the growing population of homosexuals taking residence. The people in government were conservative bigots Burt Hummel felt the need to change, flying under the flag of equality and equity. Seeing his son go through a public school system so tolerant of bullying and ignorance had sparked in him the burning desire to better the situation, and champion gay rights across the state no matter how idealistic and ambitious it seemed.

Kurt supported him through it, campaigning with him and declaring to the world how proud he was and how personal the cause was to make Burt Hummel's service genuine and exceptional. He loved him so much more for it, loved him for taking his fatherly love to another level and showing the world he was proud to have a gay son who was successful in his endeavors, who was kind and compassionate and more moral than any of the pigheaded men in Ohio office. Burt received the support of the LGBT community in the state, landing him a seat in congress, and a second term to boot.

In the time Burt was Congressman Hummel, he had effectively legislated a universal equality policy, mandating that all schools both public and private strictly enforce an anti-bullying campaign. It came as some sort of savior to many a teen going through some difficult times in school, with Burt recognizing how these formative years were important for a child's development. He also concerted efforts to better the employment scheme so that the non-discrimination act was widely implemented and strictly enforced. Burt also increased the number of PFLAG chapters, better championing the rights of all minority groups with such fervor that it drove the youth groups to support him in all his projects. It was the most political activism the state had seen, and it showed how positive Burt Hummel's influence was on the citizenry.

Kurt found no greater pride than in being called his father's son, happy to share his father's love and genuine concern to people, mostly teens, who had nothing and no one on their side. His father's heart was big, capable of fighting so passionately for those otherwise shunned by society.

But the biggest, most challenging feat Burt Hummel faced, and one he wanted to accomplish before his term ended, was marriage equality in the state of Ohio. It was bigger and more ambitious than anything he'd ever dreamed of, and it paved the way for more people to come to his support. He now slaved over its legislation in congress, knowing that it would mean the world for many gay couples, recognizing that no amount of discrimination could stop love from blossoming. If Congressman Hummel wanted to make a difference, a mark in history, it would be this. Marriage Equality in Ohio would be his legacy.

But no matter how much support he got from the minorities now clustered together in support, forming a magnanimous percentage of the population, those in higher office were very much against Burt and his ideals. It hurt Kurt to see his father stress over the cruelty and lack of compassion of many supposed educated men holding public positions. They were completely against Burt's convictions, and branded him brazen in their solitary, ignorant minds. He had accumulated a fair amount of political rivals, all opposed to his supposed immoral beliefs, all powerful, and all too superficial to see behind Burt's humble beginnings. Kurt's heart ached at that, knowing full well how his father was more a man than they ever would be. His father stood for something powerful, for something more socially relevant than deciding what sort of fireworks to put on display on the fourth of July. His father stood for something important and significant and life-changing, and that was met with bitter contention from those who couldn't see how big Burt's heart was.

Kurt knew how dangerous politics was, and how people lost their lives in order to uphold a certain belief. It was a thought Kurt never wanted to entertain, a prospect he wished day in and day out weren't plausible because his father meant the world to him. He would call him every night from his New York apartment and remind him of his safety, to always be vigilant and to try his best not to cross people who wouldn't think twice about ending him. It wasn't that he didn't want his father making a stand no matter how controversial. He just hated that all the attention he was getting was a threat to his safety, and Kurt's biggest fear was losing him over some homophobic asshole who just had to pull a trigger. It was in those times that Kurt realized Burt's fear when he insisted on going to Junior Prom in a kilt.

Kurt dreaded the day that his fears would materialize, feeling his heartbeat quicken at the very thought of his father, cold and dead and six feet under all because he dreamed of giving his son a chance to marry the person he loved. It seemed cruel to think about it, to think about how so many people were opposed to homosexual marriage when many straight couples didn't value it enough, divorcing here and there as if the very sanctity of marriage, of commitment, was just a game. Burt Hummel was willing to put his life on the line just to give his son all the opportunities in the world.

And in the end, that was how it came about. Kurt was interrupted from a meeting early one morning with the news of his father's death, his fear now realized and his stomach cold and heavy. It was, without a doubt, the most devastating day of his young life, and he wished never to replay those events again.

There were only a number of events in Kurt's life that he deemed significant enough to say defined him. The first was his mother's death, leaving him to fend for himself while his father tried the best he could to play both mom and dad. The next was coming out to his father, verbalizing the fact that he was gay and later on finding acceptance in his father's ministrations of love and support. The next was getting kissed by one David Karofsky, the Neanderthal who bullied him throughout high school and was later on expelled for the same bullying. The next was getting into the school of his dreams and later on establishing his own blossoming fashion line. And now, finally, his father's demise.

He wouldn't say he wasn't devastated, because he was. The moment the call ended and he was left to digest the news, nothing but cold, lonely emptiness filled him until all he could do was collapse in a fit of desperate sobbing, trying so hard to understand why a man with such a good heart was targeted so ruthlessly by men who were so rotten inside. His father's face, the picture of unconditional love, bounced thunderously in his head as he gasped for breath, unwilling to accept that he was gone. God, he was gone, and that filled Kurt with such an acute sense of anger and bitterness that he couldn't shake off no matter how much he tried.

His father was leaving the courthouse, the caller, Finn, had said. He was managing the bill of Marriage Equality, so controversial that there was widespread media coverage waiting outside the steps of the courthouse, crowding the surroundings so completely that no one could pinpoint who had pulled the trigger as Congressman Hummel exited the building. One bullet. Straight to the head. A clean kill. All captured morbidly by the running cameras of the media reporters, capturing and immortalizing the fall of the people's champion for all the world to see, and for all the world to weep over.

To the world, Congressman Hummel was dead. But to Kurt, he was more than Congressman Hummel. He was dad. He had lost his dad. And losing a father tore off a magnanimous part of his heart, leaving him aching and wanting with steady anguish.

"You okay?"

Kurt looked up to see Finn, his black suit crisply pressed and almost offending as he towered over him.

"As well as could be," Kurt replied, casting his eyes back to the bare wall before him, trying not to think about the reason he was currently sitting on the old couch in his home in Lima, wearing a tailored black suit identical to Finn's, and feeling like someone had disemboweled him and ripped his heart to shreds.

Finn sighed, moving to sit next to Kurt, his weight making the couch shift unpleasantly. The old couch was lumpy, and Finn avoided thinking about why it was lumpy in the first place. Burt liked to sit on just one side of it everyday, watching the game while munching on a bag of Doritos.

The funeral ended hours ago, and so had the reception. The press had a field day covering the event. Thousands upon thousands of people attended, all mourning the loss of such an influential man, filling the church and the streets and the reception and the cemetery with an overflowing of support for the family. It was a sight to behold, and Kurt would have smiled at the sight of it if it weren't for the fact that he was currently burying his father six feet below the ground, in a niche beside his mother's under an old oak tree, for him to be reduced to ashes and dust as if that was all he was ever worth.

It was nearing midnight now, and everyone was exhausted both physically and emotionally. Carole had retreated to the master bedroom, presumably to weep and hug one of Burt's favorite shirts to her chest in an effort meant to comfort her. Kurt really couldn't blame her—everyone grieved differently. Which was why he was sitting on the couch now, stoic and solid and numb. He had cried enough tears, too many of them actually that he was pretty sure there weren't any left, and he had hurt and cursed and screamed gut-wrenchingly into the night far too many times for it to be considered acceptable. He found that neither of the things helped with the pain. And goddamn it, he was allowed to hurt. He was allowed to wallow and curse and yell and fall into a depressive fit because he had lost his father, the only man who was constantly on his side, in his corner, all because he dared to profess to the world that he was proud of his son.

"Have you eaten anything?" Finn asked, his voice matching the quiet of the night. He had lost his father too, twice over now, but it hurt more this time around.

Kurt kept his eyes fixed ahead but shook his head slowly. "I'm not very hungry," he replied, his voice emotionless.

"Man, you gotta eat something," Finn said, casting Kurt a worried glance as he picked on the material of his black slacks. "You haven't had a decent meal in—"

"Four days," Kurt cut off. "I know. Four days."

Finn nodded quietly. Four days. Burt had been dead four days. "Yeah," he whispered, turning to face the wall completely, imitating Kurt's position that echoed every anguish now currently consuming his heart.

"I don't understand," Kurt said, his voice hoarse. "Dad was... God, he was so... He was everything. How could anyone just... Take him? Take him away and kill him? Who does that?"

Truthfully, Finn wanted to know, too. Finn wanted to know how people could have all the room in their hearts for hate, and how people could ever justify taking another person's life. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. And in Finn's troubled mind, he questioned all of his innocent beliefs, trying to decipher why anyone would antagonize someone who only fought for what was good and right.

"I don't know, Kurt," he answered honestly, looking confused as he cast his eyes to the ground. "Bad people, I guess."

Kurt sighed. Finn's thought process may have been simplistic, but it was fundamentally true. Bad people. Bad people killed his father.

"I wish I could tell you how angry I am," Kurt said. All his emotions were convoluted now, a dark mass of pain and hurt and anger and frustration and disappointment all fighting for dominance. "I wish I could tell you just how much I want to rip whoever did this to shreds, to make them know pain," he said, his eyes tearing up again as he tried to control his breathing. "But I can't... Because I can't even make sense of everything. A part of me still doesn't believe this is really happening—that my dad is dead and we're here and I just..."

"I know," Finn said, feeling his own eyes water. "But we won't let them get away with this, Kurt. Nobody will just let this slide." Because it was true. Judging by the sheer volume of people who came out to watch Burt Hummel's funeral procession, no one was going to sweep this under a rug. There were protests everywhere now, small and big but all fighting for one thing: justice. "We'll find who did this and we'll fight."

Kurt shook his head, the tears now falling unabashedly down his cheeks as he buried his face in his hands. "God, I just want my dad back," he sobbed, feeling his soul rip to shreds in agony and denial.

Finn could only stare at Kurt's shaking figure, feeling all of his pain transcend the heaviness in the room.

He wanted Burt back, too.

Soooooooo. Ta-da? Haha. Please let me know what you think. :) B makes an appearance in the next chapter. :) I forgot to mention that the title comes from the Serenity Prayer. :)