AN: I'm really sorry, "Worlds Colliding" and its readers. I will do my best to update it! But this idea just came and it was so interesting I couldn't resist. Some amount of angst expected ahead; the updating may be sporadic.

Oh, and for this opening chapter in particular, tread lightly if car accidents, death, and the related are upsetting to you.

November 15, 1994

It happened because Frank Jennings missed a turn-off. That was all it took. One moment of inattention, and he saw the exit to the rest stop half a mile behind him in his rearview mirror. He cursed under his breath. He'd been feeling sleepy for the past twenty miles, but as a long haul trucker, he had deadlines to meet, and he couldn't afford to miss this one.

He yawned, long and loud. He shook his head, trying to will himself awake. He picked up the thermos in the cup holder and shook. Empty, goddammit. His eyelids drooped, his chin bumped his chest. He gripped the wheel tightly and opened his eyes as wide as he could. That tore it, he had to get off this freeway, had to find somewhere to park, to rest, to sleep…

The next exit was just half a mile ahead — Lima. Just half a mile, and he could find somewhere, anywhere to pull over. Then he could sleep…

But after that night, Frank Jennings would fail to get a decent rest at least twice a week, because the nightmares would get to be too much. He would also never drive again, forcing him to move in with his eldest daughter and son-in-law. Just being behind the wheel, any wheel, opened up too many memories.

"Come on," Burt Hummel muttered under his breath, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

Elizabeth Greene Hummel gently touched her husband's arm. "Calm down there, soldier."

"You'd think that the city would fix the goddamn sensors," Burt said irritably, waving at the crimson light shining down on them. "There hasn't been anyone coming in the other direction in the past two minutes!"

"We don't have anywhere to be," Elizabeth said soothingly. "We have all the time in the world."

"Yeah, well, it's past eleven. I'm exhausted." He craned his neck, squinting into the rearview mirror. "Is Kurt asleep?"

Elizabeth looked back. "Yes," she said in a low voice. "Finally."

"It's in the blood, I tell you," Burt said, his tone lightening. "When I was a baby, riding in a car always got me calm too."

"Yes, yes, he'll be a big tough mechanic, just like his daddy."

Burt snorted, his attention wandering as the red light stretched on. The only other car at the intersection was to their left, a Honda Accord; he could barely see the silhouettes of the people within. He wondered what their story was, what they were doing out so late. He wondered if they were as happy as he was… or as tired. He'd noticed his parents' sly smiles when he'd told them Liz was pregnant; it'd struck him as strange at the time.

Now he knew why. Damn them for not warning him.

"Burt?" Elizabeth's voice broke him out of his reverie. The light had finally turned green; the Accord was already proceeding into the intersection. Shaking his head, he shifted into gear, hit the gas, and—

Everything that happened afterward happened in slow motion. That was obviously impossible, but that was what Burt's memories told him. That was how he was able to see Accord suddenly sliding into view in front of him, read their license plate, the bumper sticker underneath it. He'd just slammed on the brake when the Accord was replaced by a semi — red cab with a white trailer. He didn't remember hearing the impact of the truck against the Honda, but he did remember Elizabeth screaming, the screech of his tires underneath him, the burning in his muscles as he wrenched the steering wheel to the right.

Their car shuddered to a stop at a 45 degree angle halfway in and halfway out of the intersection. The trailer was less than 30 feet in front of them, also angled towards them. Burt gulped down air, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest, his hands glued to the wheel with sweat. His mind was racing; he couldn't sense anything but his own breathing and the adrenaline rushing through his body. It was the sound of his son, crying at the noise that jolted him awake, that finally snapped him out of his shock.

He turned to Elizabeth; she was pale under the halogen streetlight shining directly above. "Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded rapidly, barely turning towards him. Burt craned his neck to look out the windshield; he could just see billows of steam or smoke rising into the cold autumn air from beyond the front of the now-still truck. His mind instantly sharpened into focus; he put the car into park and undid his seat belt. "Stay with Kurt," he told his wife as he leaped out.

The night air was chill on his skin. There were no other cars in sight; it was eerily silent, except for a sharp hiss coming from one of the engines — probably the truck's. Burt dashed around the front of his car towards the truck. As he turned its front right corner, his heart dropped into his stomach.

The truck had smashed into the entire left side of the Accord, pinning its front passenger side into a light pole. The back windshield was webbed with cracks, so he couldn't see inside.

He could hear a baby crying, though. And it wasn't coming from his own car.

Burt circled around the back of the Honda. The rear right passenger side was the only part of the car untouched by the carnage, and he could see inside its still intact window. There was a car seat there, with a baby in it. The adrenaline rushed back again.

He tore open the back door and leaned inside over the child. But that also meant he got a good look at the other passengers. The man behind the wheel was obviously dead, leaning in his seat away from the impact. Touching his head was the head of a woman in the passenger seat; Burt thought he could see her shoulders shudder, but did that mean she was alive? He couldn't tell. Behind the driver's seat was another car seat, in which sat a boy who couldn't have been more than five. He wasn't moving. Burt forced down the gorge rising in his throat and turned his attention to the smaller child.

The baby was about the same age as his own son. It was screaming its head off, but miraculously, Burt couldn't see any sign of injury. Nevertheless, he was gentle and ginger as he undid the buckles and lifted the baby out. He heard another car on the other side of the intersection come to a halt as he carried the child back to the warmth and safety of his own vehicle. Elizabeth had moved to the back seat, and was sitting next to the still screaming Kurt. There was another car now idling behind theirs, the driver leaning out of his open window. "Are you all right?" he called out. Burt waved him off as he pulled open the back seat of his car.

"It's okay, Kurt, it's okay… " Elizabeth looked up as he appeared. Her eyes slowly lowered to the bundle in his arms; immediately, she held out her hands. Burt placed the child in her grasp. As she held it against her chest, a wave of exhaustion flooded into Burt; he had to lean atop the roof of the car to catch his breath. "The driver…" He looked down at Elizabeth. "Is he…?" Burt couldn't bring himself to answer, or even to shake his head. His wife seemed to pick up what that meant, because she closed her eyes tightly, her forehead gently meeting that of the baby in her arms.

The two of them were still trying to calm two squalling infants as the ambulance and police arrived.

November 17, 1994

"Okay… Thanks for letting me know. Yes, thank you. Bye." Burt wearily put down the phone and rejoined his wife and son on the sofa. Answering the phone was the furthest he'd been away from the rest of his family in two nights, even with the work he was missing.

He couldn't bear the thought of what might happen if he let them out of his sight.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked as baby Kurt dozed in her arms.

Burt sighed, a deep groaning sound. "The mom didn't make it. She died last night."

"Oh, no…"

Burt rubbed his eyes. "It gets worse. Sean says that he heard that when the police called her parents… Her dad dropped dead of a heart attack on the spot."

"That poor baby…" Elizabeth said in a whisper, unconsciously tightening her grip on Kurt. "What's going to happen to him now?"

"I dunno. Neither does Sean. But he says that the cops told him that the dad's parents are both dead, and with the other grandfather's death…" He put his arm around his wife's shoulder, leaning in towards Kurt. He planted a gentle kiss on the soft head before continuing. "There's more family on the mother's side, but most of them are either single or living in Europe. It looks like… It looks like the kid is probably going to go into foster care…"

"No." Elizabeth's voice turned hard, even as it trembled. Burt looked up at her in dull astonishment. "We have to do something, Burt. That child lost his parents, his brother… He needs stability, and you and I both know he isn't going to get it in the system…"

Burt could barely speak through the tempest in his thoughts. "What… Are you saying… You want to…?"

"I know we can barely afford having one child right now, but Burt, I held that baby in my arms at the hospital. I can't stop thinking about him… If I don't do everything I can to make sure he's all right, I'll never forgive myself. I know it's probably a bad idea, and if you don't think we should do it, I'll listen, but…" Her eyes were pleading, glistening with tears. "Please, Burt. At least think about it. We always knew we'd want another child eventually, right? It'd just be a little sooner than we planned."

Burt wanted to argue. God, he wanted to argue. Their time and finances were already being stretched thin as new parents… And what if someone in the baby's family ended up stepping forward? Could Elizabeth bear that kind of disappointment? There were a hundred — no, a thousand reasons why this was the worst idea in the history of mankind.

But…

But that night had been haunting him too, maybe even worse than his wife. After all, she didn't see the bodies in the car. She didn't see the police pull the dazed truck driver out of the cab, didn't hear him babble incoherently in horror and grief.

She did, however, know what the foster care system could be like. One of her best friends as a little girl was adopted; she'd told those horror stories when the two were considering how best to start their family. True, that was decades ago, and very few adopted children went through anything so traumatizing, but he understood her reluctance.

But most of all, he remembered sitting next to his wife in the car, waiting for the paramedics to come to them, looking down at the baby — the innocent, beautiful child who wasn't even aware of the massive tragedy that had just befallen him…

Burt kissed his wife's forehead. "We'll see, okay? We'll give it a shot, and see what happens. All right?" She nodded, silently and gratefully, as the two returned their attention to their own child — perhaps to become one of two. "Did the kid have a name?" He wasn't sure why he asked; maybe it was to prepare himself for the possibility of his family opening up in a way he'd never imagined…

"David," Elizabeth whispered. "The nurses said his name was David…"