Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or SBL.

A/N: Today we get a good look into Sheryl's mind. Also I saw a still of her from SBL after she hears about Carson's death and let me just say Allison Janney deserves an Oscar.

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The next afternoon found Finn and Sam making use of Carson being Kurt's actual twin. "Okay, okay. Now say cock."

"Cock."

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Say...say shit."

"Shit." Carson rolled his eyes as Finn and Sam dissolved into snorting laughter. The two of them had been doing this since they'd gotten home from school. They'd mostly been asking him to say swears but every now and then they'd have him quote a movie or talk trash about one of their other friends or teachers. If he actually knew these people he would probably be laughing too. The cuss words were getting old though. He swore plenty. The novelty of seeing Kurt's general facade swearing wasn't as potent if you shared the same face.

Finn smiled wide and leaned forward. "Say you like boobs. Like, talk about how hot a girl is."

Carson dropped his head back against the back of the chair and sighed. Then he stood and made his way to the kitchen. "And that boys, is where I draw the line."

"Are you gay?" Finn looked confused and maybe a little betrayed.

"Does it matter? Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. But Kurt is."

"Dude I was just..."

"Don't call me dude. My name is Carson." He stomped up the stairs. Behind him he could hear Sam chastising Finn. He had a pretty good read on the guy now. Finn was a puppy dog most of the time until his way of thinking or his popularity got challenged. Then he got offended and flew off the handle. He probably never got yelled at for it either. Because he was some All American golden boy. He couldn't wait for Kurt to get home. Kurt had dropped him off at the hotel on his way to school and Finn and Sam had picked him up after it let out. But Blaine had needed to stay after school for a little while so Kurt stuck with him, strength in numbers. He didn't begrudge Finn and Sam for not staying, well not Sam anyways. Kurt probably would have pitched a fit if they'd made a show of staying behind as bodyguards.

Finn's bedroom door was open again. The shirts had been cleared from his drum set but they could have been on the floor next to it. Carson couldn't resist the invitation and slipped inside. On the nightstand there was a picture of a girl with long brown hair and a big nose. Not what he expected Finn to go for, but to each his own. Kurt had her picture too so they were probably in glee club together. There was an Xbox controller on the unmade bed and the corner of a Playboy was sticking out from under the sheets. Carson wrinkled his nose and moved on. There was only one sports trophy. So he wasn't quite the All American teen boy then. Carson started pulling open drawers with caution. Inside the top drawer there was a heap of unmatched socks and crumpled boxers. Carson moved them aside with a nearby pencil. Hidden near the back was a stack of photos of a pretty blond. That he could use. It was either an ex girlfriend or someone he wished was his current girlfriend.

He moved on. The next drawers were useless. Carson dropped to the floor to check under the bed and caught sight of a piece of paper stuck under the mattress. He pulled it out gently and unfolded it. It was worn around the edges and the crease was starting to tear at the ends. Inside it said Drizzle and there were some doodles around it. He had no idea what it meant but if it was important enough for Finn to keep hidden under his bed then it was important enough to remember. He was going to dig for more but the front door opened and closed so Carson hurried out of Finn's room and made himself comfortable on Kurt's bed. He'd managed to arrange himself casually before they got to him.

"So you're Carson."

"That's me."

Blaine smiled so wide his teeth showed, just like in the photo. But unlike in the photo Blaine had so much gel in his hair it looked more like a helmet than anything else. He had his hand out and Carson took it. He had a nice firm handshake. You were suppose to be able to tell the worth of a man by his grip but all Carson could tell was that Blaine played guitar.

Kurt bounced up onto the tip of his toes and clapped several times quickly. "Now that you're all acquainted I thought we could do something."

"I thought you wanted to keep me and mom secret for a little bit longer?"

Kurt deflated and put his hands and head on Blaine's shoulders. "Well not just anything, but we can do something. We could rent a movie or...something." Kurt frowned against Blaine's shoulder. Blaine sensed his bad mood and turned the two of them so he could put his hands on Kurt's hips and look him in the eye.

"Hey, it's not so bad. We can put on something pointless, turn it down low, and talk to each other." The calm, comforting tone of Blaine's voice instantly put Kurt at ease and had him smiling again. Carson fought the urge to gag just to ruin the moment. Blaine didn't seem so bad.

"Can we watch something not on basic cable? I went to sleep last night listening to Dora teaching Spanish kids English."

"We'll have to go down to the den. I do not want to wrestle the remote away from Finn."

Carson watched Blaine's face closely as Finn's name was mentioned. The slight grimace was all the proof he needed. Finn Hudson was an asshole wearing a shiny coat of paint. He kept his opinion to himself for the time being. He doubted Finn got away with too much in the house. Burt Hummel was a papa bear unlike any other, especially in regards to Kurt. He'd just keep collecting information and storing it away until the time was right. So Carson kept his mouth shut while he followed them down to the den. Along the way they passed Sam's room, which looked like it was still part office in some places. Sam's room was very clean. Carson got the feeling Sam felt ashamed of his need to stay there. He was probably poor or a foster kid.

The den was nice. Carson had gotten a tour of the house last night but he hadn't paid much attention to anything but Kurt's room and the bathroom. The den was painted in a bright butter yellow and all of the furniture was cream colored. There were grass green accent pieces here and there. Carson was willing to bet this was the only other room Kurt gotten full creative power of. It was the only other place that looked like it had come from the pages of a magazine at any rate.

Blaine made himself at home quickly, snuggling into the plush couch and hugging a green and white pillow to his chest. He wiggled his bare toes into the soft shag rug and bounced around until he felt at home. Then he looked up at Carson and smirked. "Maybe you can settle an argument."

"Okay?" Carson flopped down on the far end of the couch so Kurt could settle between them. He looked between Blaine's conniving smile and Kurt's unimpressed half frown.

"Kurt says that Disco is the single worst thing to happen to music ever and I disagree. I think it's that new wave meditation stuff that people play when they roll on the ground and scream in their underwear."

"And I keep telling you that, that is not music. So Disco it is." Kurt let out a snippy little hum and sat between them with his arms crossed. He leaned back into the cushions so Carson and Blaine could see each other properly, but resolutely stared at the television instead of acknowledging either of them.

"New wave seizure music is the worst. Disco defined a generation."

Blaine cheered happily while Kurt threw his hands down against the cushions. Then he snapped his head to Carson. "You don't even like Disco!"

"I never said it was our generation."

Kurt snorted and playfully pushed Blaine away and into the armrest. He didn't seemed deterred by it. He laughed and pushed back then fell back against the armrest, over and over until he gave up all pretense and lounged out against Kurt full on. Kurt huffed at the sudden weight but settled in quickly. Carson watched on the whole time with the tiniest of smiles on his face. It was nice to see Kurt so carefree. But on the other hand he was a little jealous. When they were kids Kurt clung to him like white on rice. They were inseparable. And only clingy with each other. If any other kid even tried to do that Kurt would verbally smack them down until they felt like ants. Touching was a no no when it came to other people. As a kid Carson had imagined that they'd always be that way, that no matter how old they got they'd still hang on each other out of habit. But things changed. Carson was almost certain that Kurt wouldn't push him away or think it was weird. Almost. There was still a chance it would be unwelcome and Carson didn't want to risk it.

They settled on Jersey Shore which was only slightly better than reverse Dora because it was oddly fascinating in a 'how are they still alive' kind of way. It wasn't something that Carson ever would have watched on his own and he would never admit that he had, even under torture, to anyone back in Clover. Kurt and Blaine seemed like loyal fans though. The longer they sat in the den together the more and more Carson came to realize the two of them were like an old married couple. They moved together seamlessly and caught onto each others train of thought. Carson couldn't see himself that way with anyone. He could love. He had it in him. But he didn't see himself opening up as entirely as Kurt had with Blaine. He wasn't sure how much of it was a product of his less than conventional upbringing and how much of it was just from being Burt's son.

Either way Carson wasn't going to worry about it until after he was at college. He wanted to establish a career first. He wasn't the type of person who could live on love alone, he needed something constructive to make him feel useful. Oh God, he was going to be the male version of all those Lifetime women who didn't settle down until they were in their thirties after a rash of train wreck relationships.

"Carson?"

Carson turned his head at the sound of Blaine's voice. He was curled up on the couch with his head resting on Kurt's chest. He and Kurt were both looking at him with worried smiles. "Hm?"

"Do you want to watch something else? We've seen all of these."

"This is fine." Carson slumped farther into the couch. He was in that nice in-between state where the painkillers were doing their job but not making him loopy. He thought they'd keep on like they were but Kurt started tugging on the sleeve of his shirt until he leaned over. Then Kurt pulled until Carson was resting his head on Kurt's arm. "What are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable."

Carson looked over at Blaine as best he could in his position but Blaine was paying him no mind. He was already sucked back into whatever rant The Situation was having. Well if they weren't going to say anything then he wasn't. Maybe clinging to Kurt wasn't as awkward and pathetic as he thought.

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Living in a hotel room was about as interesting as living in a hospital room. There was nothing to watch, nothing to do, and the beds sucked. The only thing the hotels had over hospitals was the fact that you could leave. Hospitals had drugs though so it wasn't the best trade off. What she would give for some Xanax, you did not want to know. Right now Sheryl was walking up to the Wal*Mart out of sheer boredom. Once she got there she wasn't sure what she'd do. As tempted as she was to buy a bottle of wine, she didn't want her first public appearance in Lima to leave the impression that she was an alcoholic. Whether she was or not wasn't any business of theirs. She may not want anything to do with the kid, but she at least owed Kurt a decent attempt at looking like a human being.

She could probably get something nice for Carson. A 'thanks for not dying' present shouldn't be too hard to find. He liked books and writing. She could pick him up some stationary. No, kids didn't use that stuff anymore. She didn't know what kind of books he'd want or what he already had so that was out. It was looking more and more like she'd just buy a bag and fill it with junk food and random cheap crap. Despite Lima's small mindedness it wasn't that small of a town. There were plenty of people around who didn't know her. It was just that the people who did know her were gossips. She couldn't understand how she had been friends with them before. People like that made her want to go postal nowadays. So the walk to the store wasn't an issue. But walking inside the store? That would travel around fast.

It was undeniable that she looked a lot rougher than she would have if she'd kept her healthy lifestyle. Her hair was a flyaway mess and although she lacked her usual bathrobe, she was in baggy jeans and worn out knock off Uggs. At least she wasn't going to run into the richer members of her former social circle. If she did they could both mutually shake it off because they wouldn't want to admit being in Wal*Mart. She really didn't want to cause Burt's family a lot of grief. As bitter as she was about how everything turned out, she couldn't deny that Burt had been nothing by supportive and patient. Hadn't he signed over the rights to Carson just so she could feel better? She wasn't sure if Kurt wanted anybody to know. As far as all his little friends knew she was dead and buried and Carson didn't even exist.

A group of rowdy teenage boys came running out of the store, bumping into each other and hollering out their plans for the night. Sheryl shook herself off and marched into the store. She was a grown woman. If she wanted to go to the store to get a gift for her son she could. It wasn't anyone's damn business what she did. Kurt was a smart kid, he'd figure it out. Walking under the industrial heater was a blessing. She felt all the lingering cold seep out of her bones after just a few seconds. Thanksgiving was next week but the displays around her were for Christmas. Tacky gold, red, and green decorations and piles of nuts and cakes surrounded her from both sides. She sighed and wandered deeper into the store, crisscrossing from the grocery side to the other departments but not picking anything up. Carson ate more candy than any other teenager she knew but he'd somehow managed to keep himself fit. He didn't run it though. Sheryl humored the thought that pure snark and disdain burned the extra calories.

She spent a lot of time walking around in the novelty clothes section. Over with the pajamas there were footie pajamas, actual fleece footie pajamas, in adult sizes. Small towns, big secrets. What kind of social life did the people of Lima have that they thought stocking those things would be a big hit? It was ridiculous. She was buying them. If nothing else the look on Carson's face would be priceless. She might actually get shocked silence. She riffled through the racks, looking for the best insult in fabric form. Being nice to Carson all the time was throwing them off. They weren't like that. They bitched and whined at each other until someone laughed or stormed off to laugh in private. She could tell Carson was still on edge about how they were suppose to act around each other right now. She could feel the guilt simmering on him and wanted it gone. On a corner rack she found a mostly black flannel set. The feet had plush Grinch heads sewn on, the snap buttons were green, and The Grinch was stitched in the same green over the right peck. The snap attached hood was lined with green, yellow, and black synthetic fur. It was perfect.

With the right size in hand she started to head out of the pajamas when another set caught her eye. There was a single pair of footie pajamas in red plush fleece, covered in green wreaths. The writing covering the wreaths said A Christmas Story. She grabbed that too. With them thrown over her shoulder she strode quickly to the gift bags. She snatched up two plain paper bags, one in a powder blue and one in a rich deep red. She didn't bother with tissue paper or a card. It wasn't Christmas. Sheryl started towards the registers, shifting her arms and trying not to drop anything.

"Sheryl?"

Sheryl froze. Her eyes were wide and fixed on her feet. She couldn't place the voice but it sounded familiar. She turned slowly and saw white patent leather heels. They were a little worn. She made her way up stocking covered legs and a pressed cornflower blue skirt, then a dull yellow sweater. Her hair was blond and pulled back in a loose bun. "Yeah...Janet?"

"Judy."

"Right."

Judy's smile was fleeting and sad. "I was married to Russel...Fabray. My youngest is Quinnie."

Sheryl had no idea what to say. She kept her face blank and waited for it to end.

"Lucy. She was still going by Lucy then. She played with Kurt and Carson once. Just the once."

"I don't remember much from then."

Judy laughed. It was desperate and a little breathy. "Of course, of course. It's just, your son, your Kurt, he...Quinnie had a hard time a couple of years ago and Kurt was there for her."

"Then you should thank him. Or Burt."

"Right, yes." Judy was nodding and looking down at her feet. She looked like she wanted to say something else but couldn't find the words. Sheryl wanted nothing more than for the moment to end but it would be far less painful to let it play out now then to let Judy follow her around and drag things out. "Russel had an affair with a tattooed freak and I kicked him out."

That was...not what she was expecting. Sheryl blinked slowly and let out a deep breath. "You get the house?"

"He didn't sign a prenup. He didn't think I would have the bravery to kick him out."

"Good for you." They stared at each other a little longer. Sheryl was more obvious about her desire to leave. She was scrunching up her mouth and tapping her foot but Judy kept twiddling her fingers and smoothing her sweater.

"As a housewife you have one job. And it's not raising your kids or cooking meals or cleaning the house. It's keeping scandal quiet. You just have to grin and bare it. That's your only job. Everyone in my neighborhood is hiding a devious little secret. The difference between me and them is that I couldn't live with his." Judy nodded to herself and took a deep breath. Her eyes were watering and Sheryl couldn't think of anything that summed up her own post accident feelings then crying in a Wal*Mart. "I've found out that I don't actually have any friends. I still have the house. I have all of his money. I got my sweet little Lucy back. But no one wants to humor the woman who couldn't be strong by her man."

"I'm gonna tell you something that I wish someone would have told me after the accident." Sheryl straightened herself up as she spoke. She stepped closer to Judy and looked her in the eye. She saw hope there and almost felt bad for what she was about to do. "It doesn't get any better. The life you had is gone and what you go do now might be a load of shit. You're gonna cry. You're probably gonna drink. I have. A lot. A hell of a lot. And you're gonna want every single thing back that you had, the good and the bad, and it's never going to happen. This is your life now. Accept it."

Judy looked stricken for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and placed a hesitant hand on Sheryl's wrist. "Thank you." Sheryl shifted under Judy's gaze, not quite comfortable with the praise.

"I have to go."

Judy straightened herself out and wiped her eyes. She nodded to Sheryl. "Of course. Have a nice visit Sheryl." The two of them parted ways, Judy heading off to housewares and Sheryl heading toward the registers.

If Judy's fall from social grace wasn't a welcome surprise she didn't know what was. Just after her accident a whole gaggle of well meaning Christian woman came to visit her. Judy had led the charge, preaching on and on about God was testing her will and how if she prayed hard enough He would heal her. When she started lashing out at Burt and Kurt Judy had heard about it. And she came right out with a casserole in a sparkling white china dish and a generic monologue telling her how it was going to get better and that she just needed to be strong. Prayer couldn't have helped her. Brain trauma wasn't something you could fix by meditating. Sheryl wondered how closely Judy followed her own advice now that she was the one who was being tested. She looked like she was still holding up, but Sheryl had too in the very beginning. It was only a matter of time before Judy was just like her.

Sheryl moved through the check out line as fast she could, drumming her fingers on the counter and ignoring all of the cashiers questions about her day. She just wanted to get back to the hotel and take a nap. Carson was over at Burt's and he'd probably stay for dinner. Kurt had school so someone was sure to drop him off before the night was out. She couldn't understand why Kurt didn't just stay home for the week. If he was trying to preserve his privacy it was a lost cause. Someone was going to blab. Or someone was going to recognize her and then he'd have his business all over town and only half his time left to see Carson. It wasn't like he wouldn't be able to recover from the scandal. He wasn't like her. Kurt had his whole life ahead of him and a ticket to somewhere he could make something of himself.

The second she had her receipt she snatched her bags and angrily stomped out of the store, paying no mind to the baffled looks being sent her way. Tomorrow Kurt was staying home from school. She didn't fly halfway across the country to sit with Carson in a cheap hotel room.