Disclaimer: Glee is owned by Fox and RIB!

Over the years there had been plenty of situations that reminded Kurt Hummel of his mother's final hours in devastating detail. He had only been eight years old when Elizabeth Hummel lost her two-year battle with cancer but it was old enough to associate every funeral or extended stay in hospital since then with the fading memories of his mother's last days alive. People who only knew him on the surface wondered none too subtly, Kurt knew, how such a theatrical diva at heart could profess such a passionate loathing of déjà vu experiences. A prime example of his reasoning now lay in the hospital bed on the other side of the window he stood behind, dangerously close to losing his fight against the swarm of negative memories bubbling out of the suppressed corners of his mind ever faster, the longer he stared at Finn's head pressed hard against the blanket spread across his mother's lap. Kurt hadn't believed in God for many years, but that didn't stop him wishing silently there could be some cosmic law against losing two mother figures before one even hit the age of legal adulthood.

With extreme difficulty Kurt wrenched his gaze from the heart-breaking sight and turned around, leaning against the transparent glass with a soft sigh. It had been just over two years since the wedding that made the unconventional Hudson-Hummel family unit official. The cruel irony was that around Burt and Carole's first wedding anniversary, they had scheduled a doctor's appointment thinking she might be pregnant. Specialists had certainly discovered a growth, but it was of a much less desirable variety than a developing baby. Stage three lymphoma, doctors said it was dangerously spread before anyone noticed a thing. And now here they all were, waiting for the worst days in Hummel family history that Kurt could remember to inevitably repeat themselves. Kurt only realized how deeply consumed in dark thoughts he was when he felt an elbow nudging him impatiently in the ribs. Kurt blinked the welcome sight of his father into focus as the mechanic's rough hand pushed a paper cup of coffee into his well-moisturized one.

"Non-fat mocha latte, right?" Burt said gruffly, eyeing Kurt with obvious concern in his cool blue eyes. "You doing alright, scooter? You've been standing there a long time."
"I'm okay," Kurt said quickly, but the lie sounded hollow even to his own ears and he tacked on reluctantly; "it's just that none of this feels real yet, you know?" With his free hand Kurt gestured expansively at their surroundings, delicate hands taking in the bustle of nurses and other anxious families sitting in wait of news nearby, in one grand sweep. "The last time we were in this place for so long you almost died, the time before that the stupid doctors released Mom and said she'd be okay, I just…really hate hospitals."
Kurt didn't even realize how badly he was shaking until Burt pulled the precariously wobbling, untouched coffee cup out of his hand and drew him into a firm hug. "I know son, I know. I do too." Those few words, combined with the familiar feel of Burt's flannel-clad shoulder brushing his cheek were enough to quell the bubbling guilt that had Kurt on the verge of breaking down a second ago. The fact is he's not thinking of his wonderful stepmom right now, weakened by chemo and on death's doorstep though she obviously is. He's not even thinking of Finn, his brother from another mother, who will very soon find out what it feels like to lose her and be devastated. No, all Kurt can think about is his biological mother, who was sent home with a mistakenly clean bill of health one fateful May day almost exactly ten years ago and died later the same week. Before Kurt can confess any of these thoughts to his dad though, the door to Carole's room swings open suddenly and Finn steps out.

Every dark and selfish thought of the past few minutes shrank into obscurity at the simple sight of the taller boy's eyes. Usually glowing with warmth and love, the hazel orbs were dull with despair, the faint red marks circling them only adding to the image of one whose world is about to go to hell in a hand-basket. Kurt opened his mouth, meaning to say something, anything to get that haunted look out of Finn's eyes but his stepbrother found his tongue first. Hoarsely and with a very bad pretense of indifference he said simply; "Mom wants to talk to you dude, alone." Finn looked at Burt as he said it, just long enough for his stepfather to press the cold drink he bought with Kurt's coffee into the tall teen's hand. With a muttered word of thanks, Finn turned and walked quickly away from the Hummel men, arms folded tightly across his chest like he was trying to hold in the onslaught of emotion.
Kurt found himself unable to move, frozen in place by the sight of Finn's tall retreating figure, whose anguished gaze and defeated gait now have returned his own feelings of guilt in full force. Fortunately his dad recognized the signs this time and spun him around to meet the understanding, blue-eyed gaze that never failed to penetrate his very soul. "In you go bud, it's time." No ifs, buts or maybe's, before Kurt could do more than process what just happened, Burt pushed him through the open door of Carole's room with a final reassuring smile and clicked it firmly shut behind him.

Kurt cursed inwardly as the noise alerted Carole to his presence. It took every effort not to wince on her behalf as she stiffly turned her now bald head and looked right at him. She offered him a tired smile instantly, which only made him feel worse because her eyes, so like Finn's, told a different story entirely. "Hi there sweetie," Carole said softly, waiting for Kurt to take a seat by the bed before saying anything else.
"How are you feeling?" Kurt asked, stroking the back of her infusion-free hand gently. He had decided at least an hour ago, while watching her with Finn, to pretend like he hadn't noticed her anguish unless she chose to share it with him.
Carole grasped his arm, halting the trail of his fingers across her skin. Her short reply to his question, a simple; "I've been better," is honest but sounds almost like a totally dismissive tone to Kurt, a master of evasion himself. Then she was staring at him again, giving him a solid blast of that maternal warmth from those damn eyes of hers, still overflowing with so much more affection than he deserves. True to her vows at the altar two years ago, Carole had been his friend ever since that moment. She had figured out in a very short time just which buttons to push and if she didn't stop looking at him that way his resolve would very soon be broken.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out abruptly, his overwhelming self-loathing forcing the words out before he can think straight because he really couldn't bear her loving expression a second longer. What he wasn't expecting was for Carole to echo his words at almost the exact same time. She tilted her head curiously to one side in the surprised silence which followed the collision of their words.
"What on earth are you sorry for?" she asked, sternly and maybe even a little upset, Kurt thinks.
"After you?" he suggested hopefully, hoping she would let this go because admitting out loud everything he's been thinking about lately will confirm what a selfish, horrible person he is.
Carole grimaced, whether from pain or an equal determination to wrestle the awful truth from him, the countertenor can't tell. It turns out to be the latter as she took his hand again and squeezed it, almost knowingly. "Nice try kiddo spit it out."

Kurt gulped; "Okay…see the truth is, spending so much time at the hospital lately takes me back to a really dark place. I hate that not only because the memories are sad but because thinking about the past so much makes me feel really, really guilty for not focusing on you and Finn and even my dad more through all of this." Once the words are out, Kurt has to stare resolutely at anything but his stepmother's pale face. He chooses the faded pink blanket spread across her lap and focuses completely on the worn woolen material, waiting for her to express the disappointment he has felt in himself ever since her illness became fatal and he knew what would happen next.
"Oh honey," Carole sighed sympathetically. She had a feeling where he was going with this speech from the start, call it intuition, but it was one of those times when it hurt to be right. "This is about your mom isn't it? All of this time in hospital reminds you of when she died, right?"
"It was ten years ago last month," Kurt choked out, because the fact that Carole knew exactly what he was thinking and was still squeezing his hand so affectionately was too much for him to handle. "If you die now the dates will be so close together and that's why I didn't want to tell you, because that is such an unbelievably selfish thing to think under the circumstances and I hate myself for it, honestly!"

"Well don't!" Carole interrupted firmly, not liking the hysterical edge to Kurt's voice one bit. "Because I don't blame you one bit for thinking like that, in fact I'd be surprised if you didn't. Honey listen, do you remember what I said to you at the altar when I married your dad? About what an amazing person you are? I didn't say that only because you stayed true to yourself throughout such horrible bullying, which would have defeated anyone else I can tell you. No, I said that partly because I admire you for how you handled such a huge loss at that young age."
"That's part of my problem though," Kurt insisted. "Especially now, I feel bad that I could never call you Mom. Finn is so close to taking that step with my dad, then there's me, hung up on memories and the fading scent of a broken dresser in our attic. How pathetic is that?"

Carole shook her head in disbelief; "Here I thought that being gay would have taught you plenty about the power to defy stereotypes," she said teasingly. "Who said there has to be a label for our relationship? As far as I'm concerned sweetheart, we've been family for two years now and I love you whatever you call me or don't call me. Let me remind you of the other part of my wedding vows, I said I was getting more than a second son that day; I was getting a good friend. That is still true today and always will be whatever happens, okay?"
With a shuddering gasp Kurt lowered his head to meet the blanket just like Finn had, even able to ignore the strong lingering smell of disinfectant because the surge of emotion was so overwhelming. Carole, bless her soul, even knew not to stroke his hair as she would have done for Finn. Instead her hand slid lower, rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades as hours of despairing thoughts finally manifested themselves by soaking the ugly old blanket with more tears.

The next five minutes seem to drag on for an eternity and Carole could feel the control of her own emotions slipping further away with every circle her hand traced on Kurt's back. Her throat ached from fighting the building lump in it by the time he lifted his head, already swiping his tears aside like he was embarrassed of them. Knowing this probably was the case, Carole tilted his chin up and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, smack between the still watery blue eyes which had first attracted her to his dad.
"I love you," she said firmly, then laughed in spite of the previous tension because for the second time their words collided, the sentiments identical as ever.
Kurt latched onto her hand again, a reluctant smile still faintly in place and asked; "By the way, now that I've told you what I'm sorry for, isn't it your turn?"
The change in her demeanor was so sudden; it was as if someone flipped a switch at his words. Every hint of her smile vanished as Carole leaned back, closed her eyes and exhaled, clearly dreading whatever it was she needed to say. "Maybe saying I'm sorry wasn't so much the right word," she mused out loud.

"I mean to say I am sorry of course, desperately so," she amended as Kurt arched his perfectly shaped eyebrows quizzically almost making her laugh again. But Carole was on a mission to get her message across now, so she plowed on. "I'm sorry that all the treatments and time in hospital forces you and your dad to re-live such a horrible time for you both. I'm sorry that we won't get many more years together as a family. But that's all really out of my hands, since it's a disease and there's not much I can do about it. That's why I don't feel that sorry is the right word here, you see?"
"Not yet I don't actually," Kurt admitted a bit sheepishly. Was he supposed to see where she was going with this trail of thought?
"Oh," Carole sounded almost disappointed; as if she was hoping to avoid spelling out whatever it was she was trying to say. Her downcast gaze was enough of a concern, but then Carole retracted her hand from his grasp and pressed her fingertips together, suddenly she seemed deeply immersed in thought, or at least gathering some kind of nerve for whatever it was she was having so much trouble admitting.

"What are you thinking?" Kurt pressed, hesitantly pulling her tense hands back between his own. He squeezed her fingers lightly and noticed at once their slight trembling. Carole shot him a withering glance but even her voice was shaking when she spoke next.
"Your mother never admitted to you if she was afraid, did she? Then I can't exactly do that either!" As if the desperate exclamation broke some internal dam, suddenly her eyes are full of tears. The sight stunned Kurt only for a moment before he tightened his hold on one of her hands and used the other to wipe her cheeks dry.
"Afraid of dying do you mean? No she didn't but that was different! I was only eight years old when she died; I hardly understood the details of what was happening to her. You can tell me anything right now, I'm not a little kid anymore, alright?"

"I know you're not sweetie, you've proven that many times," Carole replied wearily. She was still stalling and Kurt, sticking to his earlier resolve, waited patiently for her confidence. "It's not the dying part I'm worried about," she admitted finally. "I'll be gone soon and it'll be over for me, I'm worried about all of you, especially Finn. You remember what it felt like to almost lose your dad, right?" Kurt nodded solemnly, there was a feeling he wouldn't forget in a hurry. The fear and despair of that fateful September two years ago was to this day the most the most crippling, terrifying emotion he had ever felt, easily more painful than the hardest locker slam Dave Karofsky ever could subject him to. His tiny nod was apparently enough for Carole and she continued; "That's what it will be like for Finn, for sixteen years it was just the two of us and I'm terrified he'll be so crushed by my death that he just shuts everybody out. His comprehension has always been a bit slow and he only realized last week that I'll never see grandchildren which are actually mine."
Carole focused intently on Kurt's face as she fell silent, still cherubic even though he had grown in so many more ways than one since they met. To see his mouth form the dismayed oh of understanding hurt much less than trying to process her own feelings at this point.

"Okay look," Kurt started after allowing her a moment of silent musing. "I'm just going to tell you what you advised me earlier, don't feel like that! It's not worth the worry lines you'll get on your face anyways," he insisted dramatically, again earning himself a little smile from Carole. "If you're worried because Finn and I got off to such a rocky start, I can understand that, truly," he continued when she didn't say anything. "But the thing is, despite and possibly because of the journey our relationship has been on, I really care about Finn and he's going to have to work extremely hard to successfully shut me out, I promise!"
The sincerity behind his every word was too much for Carole and she bowed her head again, breathing slowly and struggling not to burst into tears all over again. To her amazement, Kurt somehow again managed to put into words exactly what she was thinking when he next spoke. "Besides, if getting cancer was always in the cards for you, it's better it happened now than a few years ago. It's not just you and Finn anymore so he'll never be alone," he pointed out wisely.
Carole cupped his cheeks affectionately and pulled his head close enough to plant another kiss on his forehead. "This is why I'm proud and privileged to have been related to you for the past two years, Kurt Elijah Hummel. Thank you," she murmured, keeping her hand on his cheek even after she drew back.

"Death is but the next great adventure," he quoted in response and then grinned in spite of himself. "I guess Blaine really is rubbing off on me, whoever thought the wise words of one Albus Dumbledore could apply to real life?"
"Apparently Blaine thought so," she smiled back. "I like him honey, I'm glad you have someone to help you through what lies ahead other than your dad." With those words her smile faltered again, misery shining in her eyes. Almost as if she was talking to herself, she said mournfully; "God, this is going to be so hard on him! I wonder about the justice in this world sometimes."
"Join the club," Kurt replied grimly. "I've been asking myself that same thing for ten years now; losing a parent has a way of messing with one's belief in God though. My being an atheist has much less to do with the churches view of gays than people seem to think."
"I'm so sorry Kurt," Carole sighed again, but this time he raised his hand to silence the apology he didn't need to hear.
"Oh no you don't, if you're apologizing for the ignorance of the population of Lima, that's stupid and pointless enough, I'll have you know. But if this is about you dying again then I really don't want to hear it. You were right; it is out of your control how effectively the treatment works and whatever happens next won't be easy at all. But this conversation has come a full circle now, so I repeat. My dad and I have been through all this before. It was a devastating experience ten years ago and so it is now but we got through it then we can do it again. Please stop worrying," he finished pleadingly.

Carole gripped his hand firmly once more as he stood up to leave. "Worrying has been in my job description for eighteen years, it's difficult to kick the habit now," she said, only half-joking. At his perpetually serious expression she added reluctantly; "But I promise to do my best to let go, alright?"
"That's more like it," he finally smiled approvingly and looped both arms around her increasingly frail figure in a careful hug. "Finn should be back in soon, I'm not actually sure where he disappeared off to. I'll see you in a little while, okay? I love you," he offered as a temporary parting shot.
As soon as the door snapped shut behind the retreating countertenor, Carole leaned back against her pillows shaking her head. It was all very well to promise Kurt she would relax for his own peace of mind, but in practice she was finding it much harder to accept her fate. Not for the first time she wondered how the late Elizabeth Hummel had found her peace, this family was too precious to want to let go of so easily. Those endless ponderings found no resolution as she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

A / N This is my first Glee fanfic, so I'd really appreciate feedback! :D