Let's rewrite "Rewrite". To all those people that asked why I'd deleted my stories, it's mostly because I re read them and I decided that I shouldn't keep them up when they were so badly written, so full of inconsistencies and no character development. So I'll try again. I'll understand if you don't want to read it again, but I seriously think you should give it a try.

Kurt's deep dislike towards airplanes had started even before his mom fell ill.

The first time he'd been on a plane was also the first time he visited his aunt Ella. He had been excited at first, thinking that it would be amazing to fly and reach the other side of the country in such a short span of time but when he had actually seen the plane he had been less than impressed.

He had asked his mother –and an evidence of how long it had been was that his mother had been alive at the time– why someone would trust such an ugly machine to keep all those people on the air during such a long span of time and his mother had just laughed. His first experience on a plane, on top of his initial hesitance, had been less than ideal. He had been 6 at the time, but even at his young age he had been seriously upset by the baby that had spent the whole trip crying and that old lady that had spent the whole trip asking things and then those twenty minutes of turbulence had just been the icing of his cake. A seriously disgusting icing.

Then his mom had fallen ill and the plane trips had become more frequent because the specialist lived in New York and his mother couldn't handle car trips in her state. So Kurt had been forced to spend time on planes even though he hated them and he'd also related them to his mother's illness and later on to his mother's death.

After her death, Kurt would make two trips more. One from New York to Ohio and the other from Ohio to Los Angeles.

Yes.

Los Angles.

Because his dad, his hero, the person he admired the most in the whole world, couldn't handle raising him up without his mother there and after three months of a seriously messed up life he had finally called his aunt Ella and begged her to take him in.

Kurt would resent his father for a long time. In his eyes, his father had abandoned him, left him alone after his mother died and that was seriously terrible. Later on, as he got older, he would eventually understand his father's motives, but by that moment he had his life in Los Angeles and he did not want to go back to Ohio and its narrow-mindedness, its prejudices and its awful fashion sense.

By the time his father realized that he had to take care of him, that he was his son and Elizabeth's death didn't changed that fact, Kurt had found a home in los Angeles, he had found friends, a life and Burt was nothing more than that relative he called every few days and that visited him every few months.

But now Kurt was on a plane again, going back to Ohio.

Kurt didn't even know who to blame anymore.

Did he blame that drunk driver that had crashed against his aunt? Well, that wasn't very effective; considering he was dead as well and hating him did not bring his aunt back.

Did he blame his father? No, he couldn't, it wasn't his fault. Kurt was still underage and he couldn't' stay in Los Angeles by himself and his dad would never fit in a big city. Besides, his only source of income was his car shop and there was no way he could bring that one to Los Angeles.

Did he blame his aunt? Well, he had for a moment. She was supposed to take care of him and then she had died and suddenly there he was, alone once again. But quickly enough he'd kicked himself in the shin for even thinking that she would have wanted to leave him.

"Baby…" He shook his head. He did not need Micah telling him again how sorry he was. It was funny, how after ten years of friendship the other boy had learned to practically read his mind…but at the moment he really did need his silence. Micah understood, obviously, and instead of talking he just rested his head on his shoulder.

After a moment, he talked. "You don't like planes, either"

"And yet I'm in one and then I'll have to take another" Kurt smiled.

"I love you"

"I love you, too, baby" He replied with a small smile.

Micah Adams was a beautiful creature. He wasn't attractive in a traditional sense, of course, but he was beautiful. When people met Kurt, they called him girly, when people met Micah, they called him androgynous. His face was full of curves and perfect lines, big eyes, long eye lashes, a perfect nose, full lips, black hair…of course, he was gorgeous. Micah Adams was also Kurt's best friend; he had been ever since they had been forced to run away from the bullies on their first day of school ten years ago.

"Promise you're going to call" He begged, when the pilot announced that they would be landing soon.

"Baby, I wouldn't survive a day without talking to you" Micah answered sweetly. Kurt smiled and squeezed his hand tightly as the plane began to descend.

Burt was waiting for them and even though Kurt didn't really know the man, it still made him happy to finally see him. Things had been messy after his aunt's death and Burt had been unable to assist the service, but he had called every few minutes and even through the phone, he had been a strong presence in his life in such a difficult moment.

He put his arms around the man and inhaled his perfume. He smelt like car oil and dust and man and it was comforting and warm and everything Kurt had needed.

"Micah" Burt greeted his best friend as warmly as he could. Burt was tolerant and he loved his son, but Micah still made him a little bit uncomfortable.

"Hello, Mr. Hummel" Micah replied.

"Burt's fine" He said gruffly, without letting go of Kurt. He leaded both teens towards his car, helped them with their bags and then drove off towards his house.

A pang of nostalgia hit Kurt when he realized that even though they were still in the same country, Lima, Ohio was a very different from Los Angeles, California. The weather, for one, was less warm, less sunny and as such the people wore more clothes…yet, they didn't wear clothes Kurt would have worn…they were greyer and bigger and less fashionable and Kurt knew that he was going to stick out like a sore thumb and the idea made his stomach ache and his eyes burn with badly contained tears because his life was in Los Angles with an alive aunt and his friends and everything he'd worked so hard to get.

"We're here, bud" Burt announced. The house was small, obviously. Burt had been living alone there since Kurt left and it showed. It wasn't decorated, things were old and there was a layer of dust on everything. He felt some pity towards his father because it probably had been hell to wake up alone every morning, knowing that his wife was dead and that he had sent his son away. But it was also obvious that it had been progressively touched by a woman and if his dad's commentaries about his new girlfriend–Caroline or Carole or whatever her name was–were any true, things would soon change for his father.}

"You can share the bed in the basement…it's big enough for the two of you and if we can clean it up it'll be a nice place to stay" He said awkwardly after a moment of silence. Kurt nodded, it was fine by him.

"I'm gay" He told his aunt one day. He had just discovered what gay meant and he had decided that the word described him perfectly. His aunt raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Great, I'm gay, too" She told him. Kurt nodded. He had known that, although his aunt had never actually said the word. Well, actually, Kurt hadn't known the word before, but he had known that his aunt liked to date and kiss girls instead of boys and that that, apparently, wasn't the natural order of things, if the commentaries he had heard from some of his most conservative classmates were anything to go by.

"You're not upset?" He asked. His aunt laughed, shaking her head.

"Baby, your mother knew you were gay when all you wanted to do was to marry the red power ranger. Your dad knew when you couldn't stop talking about that pair of sensible heels in your third birthday. And I will never be mad at you for wanting to be who you are at your own pace" Kurt smiled. His aunt was his favorite person in the world. She smiled back and Kurt decided that if he ended up not being gay, he would marry a woman just like her: pretty, with those big brown eyes and pale skin, smart, kind and understanding.

Micah left two days later. Well…it wasn't pretty.

Kurt felt as if someone was cutting off one of his limbs…and of course, there were telephones and Skype and the world was much smaller than it had been five years ago, but that didn't make the distance any less painful. Kurt was used to going to school with Micah, used to seeing him every day, used to spending the afternoon with him when he wasn't with Nick–

–he was used to a lot of things he wouldn't have anymore and he still didn't know who was to blame.

Kurt met Carole that Sunday when Burt decided they should go out for lunch. Kurt had not been excited–considering he had given Breadstix, which was apparently Lima's 'it' place, and it had turned out to be awful– but he had smiled at his dad and promised him that he would be in his best behavior.

Carole turned out to be a short, slightly puffy woman with kind eyes and a wide smile. Kurt liked her, even if she wore way too much denim for his liking. She complimented his scarf and his shoes and Kurt had immediately fallen in love with her and Burt had been very obviously happy about that little mercy. She had a son, though –Finn– and Kurt decided that he didn't like him as much. Kurt had flat out told him that he was gay and Finn had not hidden the fact that he was not comfortable, and obviously did not like, that fact.

"You have to understand him" Carole told him, taking his hand and caressing it with that sweet affection only mothers were capable of achieving. "He's in the football team and even if I try my hardest he still prefers to share his peers points of view…which are not favorable to the LGBTQ community" Kurt bit his lip. He did not like it, he didn't exactly understand it, but he could live with it.

"I've always said football is bad for one's health" He said, trying to lighten the mood. Carole smiled kindly, appreciating that he wasn't antagonizing her son.

"I will talk to him, I promise, I will not condone any kind of homophobia…but give him time, he's a good boy but he's used to being popular and he hasn't been himself since he lost the QB spot this year"

"It's fine, Carole, really. Unfortunately I'll have to get used to a little bit of ignorance"

That night, he talked to his dad. It was awkward, once again. Kurt couldn't really forget the fact that he'd been with his aunt for the past decade, not with him, and it was hard to pretend he knew him, let alone thought of him as a father. But Burt was trying, he was trying so hard, and Kurt could appreciate it.