Title: Level 4: Confused Agitated
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~6,500
Summary: After being attacked by a bully at school, Kurt Hummel is found to be in a waking coma. The Hummel-Hudson house has to deal with the coma and resulting difficulties.
Warnings: (non-graphic)reference to assault, sadness, general angst
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters within. Glee and all affiliated subject matter is property of Ryan Murphy, et al. I claim no ownership and am not making any profit off of the (online) publication of this work.
A/N: This story deals with difficult subject matter. I read a prompt for it on the Glee Angst Meme, and while I started writing this for the prompter, it turned out to have too much Klaine and not enough Furt brother-ship. Thus, I'm posting it here. I did take some liberties with the possible behavior of someone suffering from a Level 4 coma, but I tried to handle this situation with integrity and respect. I sincerely apologize if this story offends anyone or upsets them. I appreciate reviews and would love to hear your thoughts.

If you would like more information on comas, the website I referred to the most when writing this story is http : / calder . med . miami . edu / pointis / tbifam / coma1 . html (just remove the spaces).


Level IV - Confused-Agitated, i.e. patient is in a heightened state of activity with severely decreased ability to process information. The patient is detached from the present and responds primarily to his/her own internal confusion. Behavior is often bizarre.

The hardest part – harder than seeing him work with the therapist, harder than letting Finn tell him goodnight, harder than picking out an outfit that Kurt might approve of – is the screaming. Burt wants to cover his ears with his hands and close his eyes to block out the pain of whatever Kurt is going through, stuck in his own mind. He wants to hold his son and comfort him, but if he touches Kurt too soon, the boy will flail and thrash, yell louder until he is on the bathroom floor, face pressed to the cold tile and tears of terror for some unseen force falling down his cheeks. So Burt will situate Kurt on the toilet and lean against the counter with his arms crossed, waiting out the screams. Usually after ten minutes or so, his son tires himself out enough that his head drops to his chest and the only sounds he makes are scared whimpers. Burt will give the boy another 20 minutes on the toilet, checking his watch and reaching for a magazine even though – after four years – his mind is still on nothing more than the boy sitting so close.

The first time Burt had to take his teenaged son to the bathroom after they had left the hospital, he was terrified. He's still terrified, but in a different way. The fear is routine now, and the gnawing in his stomach is old enough that he can push it away and ignore it. He can at least pretend to read the old magazine of Kurt's – Vogue, he thinks – from a time when Kurt still read. The first time he had to take Kurt to the bathroom, the nurse (a male nurse, thank God) explained to him the he was going to have to adjust Kurt so that urine didn't go everywhere. Kurt didn't understand what was happening when he was sitting on the toilet. Burt had grimaced and for one utterly selfish moment, wished that this wasn't happening to him. Anyone but him. But four years later, the trips to the bathroom are practically routine and Carole doesn't knock on the door anymore, worry evident in her voice, unless they've been in there for more than an hour. Only once or twice has Burt needed help enough that he's told her to come in.

Taking Kurt to the bathroom is hard on Burt because Kurt is still, after all this time, petrified that someone or something is going to hurt him. During the rest of the day, when he sits with Finn watching TV or when Blaine comes over to read to him and do Kurt's nightly skin care regimen, or when Carole murmurs things to him while she's cooking in the kitchen, Kurt is fine. Kurt is distant and silent and when he speaks his words are completely out of context and make no sense, but he seems happy enough. He even smiles sometimes, when Blaine presses a hand to his cheek or a kiss on his forehead. But when they're in the bathroom, whether it's for a bath or to use the toilet or even just to brush his teeth, Kurt screams until he physically can't anymore. If Burt is honest with himself – which he hasn't been, not very much, in the last four years or so – he hates this more than anything. Because there's nothing he can do, and Kurt's desperation to be free proves that more than anything else.

They're in the bathroom and Kurt's finally stopped screaming now, he leans forward and Burt thinks he might pee now, and since they've only been in there for 12 minutes, it would be a Kurt Hummel record, but then he hears Blaine's voice downstairs, greeting Carole genially. He can hear Carole telling Blaine that they're in the bathroom.

"Should I come back later?" Blaine's muffled voice asks, and even through the distance and flooring, Burt can hear the embarrassed hesitation in the 21 year old's voice.

"No, no. They should be done…soon. Why don't you put your coat up and then come have some coffee with me?" she says quietly and their voices fade into nothing.

Burt turns to look at Kurt, who's still leaning forward, his tear stained face crunched in what Burt assumes is an effort to hear Blaine's voice for longer. "The faster you go, the faster you can see him," Burt says in a resigned voice, knowing that Kurt doesn't understand what he's being told. Kurt looks away from Burt and small bubble of laughter escapes the boy's lips, hoarse from the previous bout of screams, and suddenly he's peeing and Burt can't help but laugh, too. He's cries a little but can't wipe the smile off of his face thinking that maybe, they're making some progress.


"I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this Mr. Hummel," the young doctor said. He had taken Burt out of the room, where Kurt was lying – heavily sedated and restrained – in a hospital bed. "But our final diagnosis is that Kurt is in a Level IV coma." The doctor scratched his forehead and pressed a shaking finger to the clipboard holding Kurt's charts. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't understand," Burt said, glancing through the window to see Blaine leaning over Kurt's body to grab the glass of water on the nightstand. The youth brushed Kurt's sweaty hair away from his face and smiled a small, pathetic smile before taking a drink of the water. Burt turned back to the doctor and blinked. "What does that mean?"

"The best and easiest way for me to describe it to you is as a waking coma."

"What?"

"Would you like to sit down?" the doctor asked, gesturing to the benches behind where they stood. Burt shook his head. The doctor sighed and glanced at the charts once more. "This is one of the more difficult comas for a family to deal with. Kurt is basically awake and able to function – moving about, talking, making noises – but he is living almost entirely in his head. External stimuli will generally do nothing more than agitate him or drive him to aggression and he is going to be extremely confused about everything. That's why he's been trying to remove his restraints and IVs." The doctor looked at Burt hopefully, but Burt didn't say anything, waiting for the man to continue. "We don't keep Level IV patients in the hospital for long, because therapy doesn't generally do anything for them and they tend to be more…complacent in a familiar environment."

Burt frowned and looked once more at Blaine who was resting his head on the side of Kurt's bed, his mouth moving as he spoke to the unconscious boy, fingers toying with the neck of Kurt's hospital gown. There was a large cut across his son's forehead, stitched closed, but still awfully marring on the once spotless skin. "You want me to take him home?" Burt asked quietly.

"Well, that generally the best way for this type of situation to be handled. Kurt will still be upset at home, but he won't need to be restrained there – although you may want to consider it when everyone is sleeping. I can provide you with a few contact numbers for in home assistance and therapy groups to help you and your family deal with this. It's a very difficult thing –"

"Damn right it's difficult," Burt choked, balling his hands into fists. "Are you telling me that my son isn't going to get better?" He still wasn't looking at the doctor, instead chose to watch Blaine get up from his seat and walk to the other side of the room, where his bag was, still talking to Kurt. He couldn't hear the boy through the window, but he could tell from his body language that whatever he was saying, he was trying to comfort Kurt. His heart swelled for a second before the doctor spoke again.

"Generally, patients in this state never fully recover. However, Kurt is young, and youths are more likely to fare better when in a coma. It is possible that he could make a full recovery after some time."

Burt nodded and opened the door to Kurt's room. He had heard enough from the doctor.


Burt pulls Kurt's pants back up and urges the boy to wash his hands, but for reason Kurt is staring out the window – he doesn't seem to want to move. "Blaine's here," Burt says pleadingly, running the warm water from the tap, trying to pull Kurt over the sink gently. "Don't you want to see him?"

Kurt's body follows and he allows his limp hands to be pushed under the water so that Burt can lather them in soap. "You don't even know!" Kurt suddenly says harshly, pulling his hands out from under the water and spraying Burt with water and soap suds. "Why are you doing this?" Kurt asks quietly.

"Come on, Kurt," Burt says, even though he knows the boy can't hear him. He rinses his own hands and dries them, swallowing thickly. Four years can't make things easier, not when every day is a reminder for Kurt and for him of what has happened. Kurt has pressed himself into a corner and looks like a wounded pup. Burt is sure that the young man will lash out if he is touched. "Why don't I go and get Blaine? I'll bring him up here for you, okay?" Kurt doesn't say anything, just holds a hand to his face. So Burt leaves the bathroom and hurries down the hallway, not wanting to leave Kurt alone for long. "Carole?" he shouts down the stairs. She's there quickly, a concerned look on her face.

"Is everything okay?" she asks, glancing back at the kitchen. "I thought I heard water running." There's a mug in her hands, but Burt can see they're shaking.

"Can you send Blaine up, please?" he asks, choosing not to answer her question as it would probably only serve to upset her more.

"Of course," she says, bustling away, knowing better than to ask questions when she doesn't particularly want to know the answers.

Blaine comes up the stairs in a rush, taking them two at a time and trying not to look too desperate. "Is everything okay, Mr. Hummel?" he asks, adjusting his sweater.

"How many times to I have to tell you Blaine? It's just Burt." Blaine nods and follows him to Kurt's bedroom and through to the bathroom where Kurt is still wedged into the corner, although now he fallen to a squat, hands over his face and body shaking slightly.

Blaine glances at Burt – still asking for permission after all this time – and Burt nods quickly. "Baby?" Blaine asks quietly, taking a step towards Kurt, reaching out a tentative hand. He doesn't touch Kurt, but holds his hand a few inches from the youth's face. "Kurt, it's me. Where are you?" he asks, although he doesn't think he'll get an answer.

"I told you I would help!" Kurt shouts, and it's some sort of answer, but not the one that Blaine wanted. Sometimes Kurt will shout about where he is, where his mind has put him, and they can find a way to fish him out of the memories he's locked into.

"You don't have to help with anything, Kurt," Blaine says, squatting down so that if Kurt looks at him, they'll be eye level with each other. "I'm here to help you." Kurt drops his hands and looks at Blaine and there's a glazed look to his eyes and even though it's more disturbing than Kurt's crying, Burt sighs a breath of relief because the moment has passed. Blaine reaches out and when Kurt lets his hand linger against his skin, he is emboldened and wraps his arms underneath of Kurt's armpits and lifts him from the floor. "Why don't we go to room, and we can flip through the new Vogue? I brought it with me," Blaine offers, guiding Kurt out of the bathroom. Kurt doesn't say anything, just lets his body be pushed towards the bed. Once he knows they can't see him, Burt leans back against the doorjamb and pinches the bridge of his nose.


"We've given him a light sedative that should be sufficient for transporting him home," the nurse explained as he and another nurse lifted Kurt into a wheelchair. Finn stood behind it, white knuckling the handles and staring carefully as they adjusted Kurt's legs so that his socked feet wouldn't drag on the floor. "Your in home assistant should be there to meet you when you get home," the nurse continued, passing a stack of papers to Burt. "She'll be able to show you a few things and figure out what's best for Kurt's healing process in the home."

"She?" Burt asked, swinging Kurt's unused bag over his shoulder.

"She's the best," the nurse said, stepping back from Kurt, adjusting his lolling head. Finn blinked at the vacant stare and looked away fearfully. "You said you wanted the best. Do you want us to get you someone else? A male?"

Burt shook his head and groaned, gripping the papers tightly enough for them to crease around his fist. "It's okay. I don't think it will matter much to him either way." He motioned for Finn to follow him and they left the hospital room, wheeling Kurt's limp body to the elevator. Burt let Finn and the wheelchair in first before stepping in and nodding to the nurses, their waves obscured by the metal doors as they closed.

"It's going to be okay," Finn's voice said shakily. Burt turned to look at him just as Finn was wiping a slow falling tear from his face.


Burt finally gains enough control of himself to leave the bathroom. When he walks through Kurt's bedroom, both boys are lying on their stomachs on the bed, Kurt is pressed into Blaine and Blaine's commenting on some pair of pants from the magazine. From Burt's vantage point, unable to see Kurt's face, which is probably turned away from the magazine and focussed elsewhere, it seems as though everything is normal again. He has his beautiful 17 year old boy back and he can enjoy knowing that his son is in love with someone who is wonderful for him. He lets out a shaky sigh and steps further into the room, lets the memory wash away with a desperate longing. Blaine turns and offers Burt a small smile before looking back at the magazine and pushing against Kurt with his shoulder.

"Can you believe they put that shirt with those pants?" he asks, pointing at a glossy page. Kurt doesn't say anything and Burt leaves to get a glass of water.

Carole is in the kitchen, still drinking her coffee. She glances up and smiles a small smile, a sad imitation of the one she used to give Burt before, while he fills a glass of water and joins her at the breakfast bar. "What happened?" she finally asks, her hand snaking across the countertop to grip his. Her grasp is firm and Burt hopes she won't let go. He raises the water to his lips with his free hand and shakes his head.

"Everything was going fine – great even. When Blaine came in, we heard him talking to you and Kurt finished right away. Fastest I've seen. Twelve minutes," he said, looking at her with a watery smile. "But then when I tried to wash his hands, he seemed to lose it. He started yelling again, but his voice was still pretty hoarse. Then he pushed himself into a corner. I didn't…I don't know what to do anymore, Carole," he moans, squeezing her hand.

There is silence the kitchen for a moment. Carole taps the lip of her mug with a fingertip and lets out a breath. "The same thing we've been doing, Burt." He looks at her quizzically and she smiles that sad, little smile again. "The best that we can."


The ride home was fairly silent, other than the whispering radio, turned down to "two" so that they could barely hear it over the rumble of the engine. Burt glanced back in the rear-view mirror every minute or so to see what Finn was doing back there with Kurt. The smaller boy's bod was limp in his seat, held up only by the seat belt he had been strapped into. Burt knew that if Kurt hadn't been given the sedative, he would be clawing at the restraint, screaming and crying in the confines of the vehicle. Finn reached across the car to take Kurt's hand and Burt thanked whoever was listening for Carole and her son.

When they arrived at the house, there was a small woman waiting outside on the front porch. It was a nice day outside, cloudless sky and warm with a soft breeze, but Burt still wondered why Carole hadn't let the woman in. He also wondered how someone so wispy looking would be able to control and assist Kurt – as small as his son was, this woman was even smaller and her skinny frame made her look more weak than strong. Still, the doctor and the nurses had insisted that she was the best. He got out of the car first and with a reassuring nod from Finn, decided to introduce himself to the aide, first. He walked up the brick pathway, his hand held in front of himself to shake hers. She took Burt's large hand in her small one and shook it twice before releasing him. "Hello," she said, her high voice washing over him. "It's nice to meet you. My name it Kate."

"Hi, Kate." Burt wasn't particularly sure where to go after the introductions were made. "I'm uh…I'm Burt Hummel. Kurt's dad."

"Yes," she said politely. "We talked on the phone. How is Kurt doing? The drive must have been strenuous for him." Burt cocked his head to the side and followed her as she walked slowly back to the car. Finn had unbuckled Kurt and was holding his chest to keep the boy from falling forward.

"I don't think it bothered him much, to be honest." Burt scratched his head. "They gave him something for the drive."

"Even if he's sedated, he can be upset, Mr. Hummel." Her voice was still polite as she opened the door, small arms ready to catch Kurt, should he tumble sideways out of the car.

"Right. And you can call me Burt."

"Of course," she said, her voice steady as she pulled Kurt from the car. His body was limp against her own. "Did you bring a wheelchair?" she asked.

"No, the hospital said after today we shouldn't need one."

Kate glanced from Burt to Finn who was sitting, unsure, on his side of the car. "Perhaps you can carry him in?" she asked Finn. Finn nodded and hurried out of his side of the car before walking over to Kate and taking Kurt from her, picking him up bridal style. "And you are?" she asked, following Finn and Kurt inside the house. Burt grabbed Kurt's bag and locked the car.

"I'm Finn, Kurt's brother." Kate pointed to the couch and Finn dutifully dropped the boy there.

"Brother?"

"Step brother," Burt said, dropping Kurt's bag on the floor. "Finn, can you go find your mom, please?"

"Wha- Oh, sure." Finn was bright enough to realize that Burt needed some time alone with Kate. He left the living room and went straight to kitchen. People never gave that kid enough credit.

"I'm not sure where to even start," Burt said quietly to Kate.

"That's what I'm here for," she said reassuringly.


Finn's coming home for the weekend and Carole's trying hard to hide her excitement, but Burt is happy, too. Even though Kurt can't communicate it, he's pretty sure the boy misses his brother. There are times when Burt will go to check on Kurt and the boy will be staring at the door to Finn's room or even lying on the boy's bed. The doctor's say that there's no rhyme or reason to Kurt's actions, but Burt likes to think that he knows his son better than anyone else. And he can see the longing in Kurt's eyes. He likes to think that Finn's presence gives Kurt some sort of anchor to latch onto. When Finn comes home, he treats Kurt like he's a normal person – he and Blaine are the only two who seem to be able to manage to façade. Burt would like to be as comfortable around Kurt as the other boys, but he's broken hearted and maybe older people just aren't as good at faking as younger people are.

It wasn't always easy for Finn. When they first came home, he avoided Kurt as much as he could, scared to touch him or be around him in case the boy started screaming and lashing out. He was, understandably, trying to extricate himself from an extremely uncomfortable situation. It was hard to Burt to watch because he cared more about Kurt than anyone could know, and he hated seeing someone push the boy out of their life. He also hated seeing how much it hurt Finn to do so. He understood though, why Finn was so nervous. It wasn't just the yelling or the clawing, it wasn't that Kurt tried to rip his restraints off when they put him to bed; it was that the Kurt they all knew and loved was gone. And they couldn't even mourn him.

Burt watches Carole leave the house in her car, going to pick Finn up from the airport. When he turns away from the window, Kurt is behind him, smiling blithely, hands in his pockets. "What's up, kid?" he asks in what he hopes is a casual voice.

"You didn't have to do that you know," Kurt says, reaching out to touch his dad's shoulder. "I really appreciated it." The sincerity in Kurt's voice and the conviction in his eyes makes Burt choke on his own words. He touches Kurt's hand. It's moments like these, when Kurt seems so much like his old self, that it is hardest to push on.

"It's okay," Burt says, brushing his son's hand. "I wanted to."

Kurt drops his hand and the look is gone. He turns and walks away and Burt follows quietly behind him to make sure he doesn't hurt himself.


"Besides the restraints, bed rails are a good idea," Kate said, gesturing to Kurt's bed. The boy was lying in the center of it, slowly becoming to wake from the sedative. He was still groggy, but moving more now and lifting his hands every few minutes. "If he can break out of the restraints, at least the noise of the bed rails will give you some warning that he's up."

Burt stared at Carole who was standing cautiously in the doorway. He could see the redness rimming her eyes, but she nodded at him and he in turn nodded at Kate. "Okay, we'll get those, too, then."

"Good. There are some that are simple to detach, so you can take them off when he's not sleeping, if you want to. It's also a good idea to consider baby proofing the rest of the house for him. Did the doctor talk to you about that?"

Burt nodded once more. "We've already fixed all of the cupboards and outlets."

"Good. I know it's been a while since you had a child, so I'm just going to give you a checklist." She opened her binder and pulled out a piece of paper. "These are just some general guidelines to ensure Kurt's comfort and safety." Kurt let out a quiet sound and she afforded him a quick glance before turning back to Burt. "Now, about his wardrobe. I'm not sure what Kurt used to wear, but comfortable clothes with few to no buttons are your best bet. Sweat pants, pajama pants, t-shirts and sweatshirts. Things that won't be constricting if he tries to remove them himself, things that will be easy for you to dress him in."

"Dress him in?" Burt blurted out.

"Yes, Kurt might be able to dress himself some days. But most days, he's going to be too gone to do so. He'll need some assistance." But should have expected that, but he swallowed and blinked before nodding. "Likewise," Kate continued, either ignoring or not noticing Burt's nervousness, "you'll want to make sure any and all meals prepared for him are easy to eat and easy to feed to him. Just like dressing himself, some days he may be able to do it, but most days you'll find he needs assistance." Kurt let out a louder noise and Burt moved towards the bed, brushed his son's hair off of his face.

"I'm going to be here from five A.M. to 11 P.M every day for the next five days. After that, your insurance no longer covers me and you'll have to discuss whether you feel you still need an aide, or if you think you'll be fine on your own. If you need any assistance at all when I'm not in the house, please feel free to call this emergency number." She handed Burt a card and smiled. "Let's get started, shall we? I think he's almost finished waking."


When Finn arrives home, he puts his bag in his room before going to Kurt's bedroom where Blaine is applying moisturizer to Kurt's face. Whatever sort of mood Kurt is in, the nightly routine with Blaine always seems to calm him. "Hey," Finn says, mostly to Blaine. But Kurt's head turns when he hears his brother's voice.

"Hey," Blaine replies, his voice cheerful as he wipes his palms on a cloth to rid them of excess moisturizer. "How was your flight?"

"Good," Finn says, stepping further into the room. "How is he?"

"Better today. Yesterday was a bad day," Blaine says plainly. "But today has been a mostly good day."

Finn walks over and taps Kurt on the shoulder. When Kurt doesn't react to the touch, Finn decides it is safe to wrap him in a hug and while Kurt doesn't return the gesture, he also doesn't scream. It's a good day. Finn pulls back from the one sided embrace and sits on Kurt's bed. "How's it going, man?" he asks Kurt, who's turning his head back to Blaine so that he can apply another cream. "I heard you went to the mall with Carole and Kate the other day. Have fun?"

Kurt doesn't say anything, but he smiles and Blaine nods at Finn. Something's changing. It's been changing for the last year. And no matter how slowly it's happening, they can all feel it happening. They can all sense it's coming and they're all just waiting to see if it's going be a good change or…not. Finn leans back on the bed and pushes one of the leather wrist restraints out of the way. "You should have seen me at practice the other day, I just killed them."


Kate seemed to have a calming effect on Kurt. Even though he was often agitated and screamed at the lightest touch, her presence seemed to make him far happier than her absence. Even after their five days with her were up and they knew that they could afford to bring her back on their own dime, Kate would stop by from time to time to visit with Kurt. She would interact with Kurt and Finn, watching Kurt watching Finn play Grand Theft Auto. It amazed Burt that the gunshots and crashing car sounds emitted from the TV never sent Kurt into a fit of hysterics, but the sound of water running would leave the boy weeping on the floor. Kate would usually only be able to stay for a half hour or so, but that often seemed to be more than enough time to content Kurt until her next visit.

After being at home for two weeks, Burt was putting Kurt to bed, laying him down and coaxing him into the restraints, ignoring the pricking sensation at the back of his eyes, when Kurt rubbed his own face and winced. "What's wrong?" Burt asked forgetting for a miniscule span of time that he wouldn't receive a logical response – if he received one at all.

"Why isn't Blaine here?" Kurt asked sadly.

"He can't be here all of the time, Kurt," Burt said, taking the boy's hand and fastening a cuff around his wrist. "Now get some sleep. Maybe he'll be able to come over after school tomorrow." Kurt pulled fiercely at the restraints and bucked his hips, kicked his legs, turning his hands to try and unfasten the buckles.

"What are you doing?" he yelled, voice cracking suddenly as he thrashed his head.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt," Burt gasped, turning the light off. He didn't sleep well that night, and judging from the noises coming out of Kurt's room, neither did his son.


Finn glances up from his video game to see Kurt pulling on his curtains. "What're you doing?" he asks quietly, not wanting to upset his brother. Kurt doesn't say anything but keeps pulling on the fabric and Finn can hear the curtain rod cracking slightly under the pressure. He sets his controller down and hastens over to Kurt, gripping the curtain above Kurt's hand. "Hey, you can't do that," he says, being careful to keep his voice even. "You might break it." Kurt looks at him for a moment before nodding and releasing the blue fabric.

"Ok," he says, moving to sit at Finn's drum stand. "But they're fucking ugly." Finn can't help but laugh as he nods.

"You want me to take them down?" But there's a clouded look on Kurt's face and the moment is gone. Finn picks up his video game controller and falls onto his bed, glancing back at Kurt once more, watches the boy trace the high hat with a cautious finger, before starting the game up again.

Kurt feeds himself most of his dinner that night and Blaine can't help the proud smile on his face as his boyfriend lifts each forkful of peas to his mouth. It isn't until he's almost done, maybe two or three bites from being finished that Kurt spills his peas, drops the fork to the table and lets out a loud scream. His hands cup his ears and he's crying, banging his knees on the underside of the table. "What are you doing?" he begs, "Why are you doing this?" Burt hurries over, but Blaine's already wrapped his arms around Kurt, and is dragging him to the entry way where he's least likely to hit something and hurt himself. Kurt's still crying and screaming, but he pulls one of his hands from his head and grips Blaine's shirt in a desperate fist. "Where were you?" he says quietly and Blaine stares back at Kurt, unsure of what the question is or how to answer.


"Thanks for coming over today," Burt said, showing Blaine into the living room. "Why don't you sit down?" he asked politely, gesturing to the large sofa in the living room.

"Where's Kurt?" Blaine asked, sitting down carefully on the couch, perching himself on the edge.

"He's upstairs with Finn. Taking a nap while Finn does his homework." Burt shook his head. "That's not why I invited you over, though. Do you want something to drink?" Blaine shook his head.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Hummel?" Blaine asked nervously, pressing his fingers against the grain of his jeans.

"Not really, no," Burt said cryptically. He leaned back in his chair and groaned, pressing his hand against the bill of his baseball cap. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"About what sir?" Blaine asked.

"About Kurt."

"Did I do something…?"

"No, Blaine, you didn't do anything. It's just…it's been a while since Kurt came home and he doesn't seem to be getting any better. I know he's not his old self anymore and I just want you to know…whether it's out of chivalry or some sort of sense of honor, you don't have to stay with him Blaine. I understand, we all understand why you would want to – need to – move on from Kurt and spend your time with someone who can give back to you. A relationship with Kurt isn't healthy, there's no give and take. No one would hold it against you for leaving – no one would respect you any less."

Burt took a breath and watched Blaine, who was staring back at him with a dark look. His brow was furrowed, his hands clenched together on his lap, lips pressed in a tight line. After a few moments of staring, Blaine finally looked up at the ceiling, tilting his head back to do so. "With all due respect, Mr. Hummel, I loved Kurt before and I still love him now. I made him a promise and I intend to keep that promise. He's still Kurt and I know he's going to get better one day. I'm going to be there when he does." He looked back down from the ceiling and un-knitted his eyebrows. "I hope I've made my intentions clear to you," he said quietly, nervously.

Frowning, Burt rose from his chair. "I can't say I'm surprised you said that. But if you ever want out…just know: no one's going to think less of you." He reached out a hand and gripped Blaine's shoulder tightly before leaving the room.


"I'm sorry, but the tests show no signs of cognitive improvement," the doctor says, eyes sad behind the mask of professionalism. Kurt is sitting on the floor across the room, back pressed against the wall, wedged between Blaine and Mercedes who are talking about universities. Burt runs his hand over his face.

"What does that mean, exactly?" he asks, glancing at Kurt who is letting Mercedes tie a bracelet around his wrists.

"It means that…it means he isn't getting better."

"That can't be right," Burt insists. "There are times that he's almost exactly like himself. He talks to me and listens to orders. Look, he's letting Mercedes put a bracelet on him – there's no way that would've happened even a year ago."

"There may be small improvement in his behavior over time. But he's not talking to you, Mr. Hummel. He may be able to follow small orders, but his cognitive abilities don't allow him to process the complications of a conversation. He may be more willing and able to immerse himself in the world around him instead of his mind, but he will never fully heal. He will never be able to function as a fully independent adult. I've taken the liberty of getting you some information on assisted living facilities." The doctor holds out a small stack of pamphlets and with a shocking sense of clarity, Burt remembers how, so many years ago, he tried to force pamphlets about gay sex on Kurt. Wanted to educate his son and share important life experiences with him. Burt pushes the image away as his hand holds the pamphlets.

"Thank you," he says, holding them out to the doctor. "But I won't be needing these. There's no way I'm putting my son in a home."

"You might not feel that way in the future, Burt. It can't hurt to educate yourself on what's available."

"There will always be someone to take care of Kurt," he says, glancing back at Kurt who giggles when Blaine runs a hand through the young man's hair. "He's never going to need to go somewhere like that." When the doctor refuses to take the pamphlets, Burt drops them on the floor and takes Kurt, Mercedes and Blaine out the room.


"Burt? Burt, are you there? If you're there, pick up the phone. God damn it. Mom?" Burt groaned at Finn's voice on the phone. Why was Finn calling him at 1 in the morning? He fumbled on the nightstand for a receiver and picked it up just before Finn hung up the phone.

"Finn, what's going on?"

"Burt…Burt, something happened."

"What happened?" Burt sat up quickly and pushed the covers back. "Are you okay? Where are you? Do you need me to come get you?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine. It's K-Kurt."

"Where are you? What happened?" Burt tried to keep his voice steady as he pulled a pair of jeans on.

"We're at the school," Finn's voice cracked and he let out a small grunt. "We're in the locker room."

"What are you doing there? You're supposed to be at your prom."

"Burt, they...beat Kurt up. It's bad. It's really bad."

"Where's Blaine? Is he okay?"

"He's fine. We're fine. He's calling an ambulance. It's just…It's Kurt."

"Oh God. I'll be there in five minutes, okay?"

"Burt?"

"Yeah, Finn?"

"I'm so sorry."


It isn't until he is 22 that Blaine decides to go to university. He stays in Ohio with Mercedes and some of his old Dalton friends, visiting Kurt every night to continue the routine, talking and visiting while the Kurt watches him quietly, sitting still and patient. Blaine takes four courses a semester and has to do a lot of his homework at the Hummel-Hudson house to be able to spend quality time with Kurt. Burt and Carole encourage him to find someone else to be with. Carole offers to take over the nightly routine. Blaine continues to refuse to leave.

Blaine spends mast nights at the house, sleeping in Finn's bed if the boy isn't there, or on the couch if he is. Finn is in his last year of university and plans to come home afterwards to help Burt in the shop. Burt's tried refusing, but Finn doesn't seem to want to listen to reason and once a boy becomes a man, there's only so much you can make them do. Life seems to move on, leaving Kurt behind in his bubble, locked in his mind and only able to come out on occasion for short periods of time. The doctors continue to suggest assisted living, and Burt continues to refuse.

One day, Burt comes into Kurt's room to see if the young man is hungry, and finds Kurt and Blaine sleeping together, a haphazard pile of limbs and coursework on the large mattress. Kurt's hair and face are pressed into Blaine's slowly moving chest. Blaine's hands clutch at his partner's clothing, fingers pulling on the cotton and Burt crouches on the ground, drops his face to his hands and finally allows himself to mourn the loss of his son.