Getting there was no simple matter. Kurt had slept until ten o clock. And indeed, it was only a worried Burt checking on him that had roused him from a wonderful, Finn-induced slumber. His earlier decision did not return to him immediately, and it was only when he staggered into the kitchen and missed the hulking teenager inhaling his third or fourth bowlful of cereal that he remembered, startling Burt as he gasped loudly.

Burt could only stare at him as if he had suddenly developed a second head when he announced his desire. But, eventually his father had relented and he had headed to shower, knowing very well that Burt was looking questioningly after him. But there was no time to explain. As is, they would be late to the theatre. However, the closer they actually got to McKinley the faster Kurt's certainty about his decision faded, so that, by the time they actually pulled into the parking lot, and he saw the large dustbins he had been intimately acquainted with on numerous occasions, there was a visible tremor in his hand.

"Kid, are you sure about this?" Burt asked, as Kurt only stared blankly ahead at the school that suddenly seemed significantly larger than it had been before. "Kurt? Okay kiddo, that's it. We're going back home."

It was only the engine restarting that actually drew a response, and shaking his head, Kurt said, "N-no, I-I can do this."

"Kid," Burt said seriously, "you're shaking. Christ bud, I should have never brought you here in the first place."

"No- daddy. I got to do this."

"Why?" Burt half-demanded, although Kurt was happy to note that he cut the engine.

Kurt swallowed. He couldn't admit that he was doing this for Finn. Already he and Carole would hear of his attempt to come, and if Finn realised that he had overheard him, he would never forgive himself for this. "I-I just got to…the Warblers are performing too and they're my friends too. Daddy, I just got to do this."

"You don't got to do anything, Kurt," Burt said, although there was not much heat in his tone now. "Look Bud, we'll go in…the show's already started. We'll stay in the back and the moment I think you need to leave, you will. No arguments."

"I…okay," Kurt agreed, knowing that it was the best he could get out of his father at the moment. It wouldn't be so hard after all.

As it turned out, it was. Walking into the school felt like a death sentence and if it was not for the fact that his dad was watching him with hawk eyes, Kurt would have turned and fled before they even reached the doorway. But he held on, and managed to make it all the way to the auditorium hall before freezing as he heard the muted sounds of what he knew was the Warblers second song.

"We should wait until they're done," Kurt said by way of explanation to his sudden halt, and though Burt obviously saw through this shoddy lie, he did not protest, and instead tightened his grip on Kurt. But then the Warbler's performance ended, Kurt distracting himself by pointing out Blaine's parts. ("Don't recognise anyone else's?" Burt asked wryly at some point). Thunderous applause came from within, and Kurt felt his breath hitch in mild panic. His dad was going to make him go in now...

"B-bathroom," he blurted out, and, before Burt could really manage a word in edge-wise, he hurried toward it.

He knew he had about ten minutes to himself before his dad came to check on him, and almost all of it was spent with him clutching the edge of a far from clean sink and staring at his pale, sweaty reflection. He could do this…he could do this…he could…n't do it. A sound half way between a hysterical laugh and a choked sob flew past his lips at that last thought. He was having the beginnings of a breakdown in a McKinley toilet of all places. His dad was bound to take him to the doctor who would probably want to put him back on those medications and recommend that he miss yet a next week of school (he was so lucky that Dalton was being so accepting about things). He used to be an actor, surely he could pull of a regular demeanour, and laugh away the length of time being spent here with some humour about the difficulty of drawstrings with one hand (yes, he was in public in a glorified sweat suit. But then again, he really didn't wear much beyond that anymore).

But, as it turned out, he wouldn't even be given the chance to make any excuses because the bathroom door swung open, revealing not only a concerned Burt, but an equally worried Blaine beside him.

"And this is why I said you shouldn't have come," Burt declared roughly, as he reached his side in two strides, pulling him away from the sink and into a crushing embrace. "It's too soon kid. I really don't know why you wanted to do this…but it's way too soon. Come on, let's get you home okay?"

Kurt didn't respond, too concerned with burrowing deeper into Burt and accepting his strength, allowing it to counteract the demons floating around in his mind. He caught a whiff of Blaine's cologne before he felt a handkerchief being dabbed at his sweaty face. He opened his eyes and caught his hazel-eyed friend eyeing him with a mixture of confusion and concern, even as he continued his soothing gesture.

"I met your dad in the hallway," he explained softly, obviously seeing the question in his eyes. "I decided to come see if there was anything I could do."

"You sounded good," Kurt responded instead, his voice painfully thin and laced with vulnerability, even as he felt himself slowly stabilising. Between his father whom he loved and Blaine whom he trusted absolutely, his fear reduced in intensity.

"Yeah, well I'm sure Blaine can fill you in on all that you missed later," Burt interrupted. "Kid let's get you out of here."

Kurt nodded, feeling disappointed when the arms left him. He was stubborn but not (that) stupid. If he couldn't actually make it into the hall, he knew it would be near impossible for him to actually manage going into there and seeing that stage. No, he had tried; Finn would have to give him credit for at least that.

"K, daddy," he agreed.

Blaine had, by this time, dampened the bit of cloth and had returned, the cooling effect a blessing. "Thanks Blaine."

"No problem poppet," he returned, scarcely noticing Burt's harrumph at the name. "Let's get you to your dad's car, okay?"

"K."

Leaving the area though meant passing the auditorium once again. He tried his best to ignore the double doors as they neared it, intent on simply bypassing it, but then he heard Rachel's voice. The lyrics he heard struck him, and he hesitated, Finn's words coming to mind as he heard her sing "…give us a chance to make things right."

"Kurt," Burt began, but Kurt ignored him in favour of listening.

It was clear now what Finn had meant the night before. There was no doubt about it; this song was for him. She was apologising in the best way she could; through song and one by one, all of the other members of the group joined in. He could only stand there and listen as the song finally drew to an end. There was a brief pause before a smattering of applause. It was understandable though, a song so grave deserved quiet respect. The music resumed, this time with a more upbeat pace with Finn pulling the lead. Kurt's breath escaped in a gasp and he looked toward the doors as if they were not there, picturing his step-brother singing a song meant for him. It was uplifting and a sign of their embracing of their status as losers. He managed a watery chuckle as Finn used his infamous line about the jocks someday working for him. It would never happen now, but the sentiments were there. There was a next pause, this one met by stronger applause before they launched into a song that actually had Kurt moving forward almost unconsciously, until he had passed through the doors, too engrossed by what he was witnessing to pay close attention to his actual position.

He stood there, just within the doorway as all of his former schoolmates, in a simple yet moving formation, sang out the comforting words of "Don't Dream it's Over". The sincerity of their voices brought tears to his eyes. They were singing so beautifully, with genuine emotions even though they believed he was not there. This was why Finn had been so incessant that he come. This was the New Directions' way of offering him one final, heartfelt apology for what they had failed to do. And even though they would never know he was there, he accepted it for what it was. By the time the song reached its crescendo, he was openly crying, for what he was not quite certain, but he did not fight as Burt reached for him and gently helped him out, although if he had taken one last look behind him, he would have see the startled look on Finn's face as he saw them.

But he didn't. All he could do was try to choke back his tears as he allowed his father to comfort him. It was all too much; their words, the location, the fact that they were up there on stage doing something he had once loved to do. He cried not only for what he no longer had, but also for what he would never attain.

"What's wrong with him?" Blaine asked anxiously, more than slightly alarmed as Kurt's sobs grew in intensity. "Mr. Hummel-"

"I can't say for certain kid," Burt replied gruffly, looking at Kurt's not-quite-official-boyfriend, over the top of his son's head. The genuine concern in his voice had Burt relaxing the last of his defences against the Warbler. It was inevitable, he thought absentmindedly, Blaine had long since become a fixture in his boy's life. He could at least stop pretending to ignore that fact. "All of this," he said with a general wave, "is just too much for him. Come on now kiddo, no need to cry so. I've got you. You're perfectly safe. Calm down now so we can get you home, hmm? We'll stop by the Lima Bean for one of those Panini sandwiches you love so much and then we'll settle you down for a nice long nap okay? Later you can call Blaine because kid, he's quite worried about you."

"M'fine," Kurt said with a sniffle, pulling back and looking up at his dad. "M'kay. Don't wanna go to the doctor, k? I'm fine."

"Sure bud," Burt agreed, "but we do need to get you out of here. Look, here's Blaine's hanky again. Dry your eyes and we'll get going okay?"

"K."

Blaine could only look on in mild bemusement. Kurt seemed much younger than his age at the moment; listening to him speak he would have sworn that Burt was dealing with a ten or eleven year old. The man though did not seem particularly surprised by Kurt's behaviour, so perhaps this was a somewhat regular thing? But then again, now that he thought about it, there were some moment's when Kurt acted similarly to this, although certainly not to this extent. Those slightly morose looks he gave him sometimes when Blaine was teasing him, or the way he rubbed at his eye with his hand fisted whenever he was sleepy or in need of a break from it all. Maybe it was a coping mechanism for stress?

"Don't you need to be getting back to your team?" Burt asked, as Kurt pulled away from him to blow his nose.

"They've been fine without me so far," Blaine said dismissively. "Kurt's more important."

That won him a few more points with the elder Hummel. "Let's go, bud."

"K."

"Can I at least get an O with that K?" Burt asked, teasingly, successfully drawing a watery laugh from his son, before leading him, after a goodbye to Blaine, out of McKinley and back to the safety that was their home.