A/N: This was originally written for the Kurtbastian Big Bang on livejournal.
Huge thanks to my sister and my friend Jassanja, who jumped in to beta-read for me, when none of the betas who signed up on the Kurtbastian Big Bang, who I wrote, answered the messages I sent to them. Also, kudos, hugs and thanks to Freakingpotter on tumblr for the wonderful art.
Additionally, I don't own Glee. I only own my OCs.
_ooo_
Prologue
Kurt would never forget that moment in French class in his sophomore year. There had been a knock on the door. Miss Pillsbury and Mr. Schuester had called him out, asking him to bring his stuff. He remembered Miss Pillsbury clasping his arm and telling him, "Kurt, your father has had a heart attack. Mr. Schue…" and everything faded out.
He could still vaguely remember Mr. Schuester leading him towards his car and buckling him in. He was saying something, and Kurt heard the words, but couldn't quite connect them to their meaning. He recalled how everything had seemed blurry.
The next thing Kurt had actually heard was the doctor's words of, "We've done everything we can. The rest is in God's hands."
It had been late that night when Kurt's world had fallen apart. He remembered sitting in the room his father had been transferred to, dozing slightly, when the machines had suddenly started to send out loud warning signals. Doctors and nurses had come running and he could still recall the face of the nurse who had gently forced him to leave the room, telling him to go back to the waiting room.
He hadn't been able to go, though. Instead he'd remained rooted to the same bit of floor he'd been left on as the warning had died out. At that point, another nurse had passed by and had gently guided him back towards the waiting room. About half an hour later, one of the doctors had come to Kurt, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do."
He still recalled the haze during which a nurse had held him as he had cried. Part of him had recognized her short brown hair, but the rest of him just didn't care until he felt her tears against his skin. She had finally snapped into focus and he had recognized her as Carol. He had vaguely heard her requesting to go home and bring Kurt with her.
Kurt had felt a pang of sympathy for her. First she had lost her husband and now she had lost her boyfriend, as well… but that thought had soon been swept away in the sea of anguish in which he couldn't think: he could only feel and it was too much; it was just too much. The edge of his vision had grown darker and darker. He vaguely recalled Carol calling out for some assistance, but the words were faint, as if heard through a waterfall. His head had felt fuzzy and his body heavy: too heavy to keep it upright anymore. Darkness had taken him as he had felt himself manhandled onto a bed and, for a split second, he had wished to never wake up again – at least not without his father.