Metamorphosis

by gleefulmusings

A Second Season AU in which a very different Kurt returns to McKinley after a summer abroad. New Directions is thrown by this calm, confident, and happy Kurt, and his new attitude threatens his relationships with some of his closest friends. Surprise crossover after chapter ten.

7. Vinculum

Kurt had heard of moments like this – well, read about them was more accurate – moments of complete and utter stillness.

All sound had died away, leaving him with the disconcerting realization that he had gone suddenly deaf. His balance and equilibrium were likewise shattered, and he had to call on all of his inner reserves to avoid stumbling and accidentally pitching himself forward onto the ground. That was the not the statement he wished to make.

He inhaled deeply and identified none of the recognizable or comforting smells which identified this as his home – years of Old English furniture polish rubbed thoughtfully and lovingly into wood; Gain laundry detergent and the April-fresh scent of Downy fabric softener; the lemongrass candles he had burning whenever he was home; the lingering remnants of his father's singular coffee recipe; the powerful yet imagined heady spiciness of his mother's Opium perfume. There was just…nothing, as though his home had abandoned him.

The angry scene before him receded from his mind and was replaced with pictures of his youth: Christmas mornings, when he still believed in God and Santa Claus, unsure if the two were actually separate entities; cooking in the kitchen with his mother, her fingers twining through his hair – the first and last person he had ever allowed to do so, until Quinn this morning – as they waited for the timer to announce the readiness of a fresh batch of cranberry-orange scones; those rare instances of perfect, silent companionship between he and his father as they worked on some car in the garage. All of these rioted through his mind in all of their sepia-toned glory – recollected, though doing so became harder with each passing year, and untouchable, until they, too, dimmed.

His field of vision had been reduced to two solid pinpricks of white light and he absently wondered, as his heart attempted to burst forth from his chest, if he was about to faint. He had never fainted before and had no desire to start. His brain must have agreed with him, for he felt his knees lock together in a successful attempt to keep him upright.

He then felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head, an unwelcome gift with purchase which extinguished any joy, happiness, sorrow or rage he had experienced since returning home as his father's furious question ricocheted inside his skull. The feeling soon passed and was replaced with cold, calculated clarity.

Buoyed by this sense of calm, feigned or not, his eyes slowly panned around the room as he considered his options. He could lie, but to what end? He wasn't ashamed of anything he had done. He could deflect the question, but knew his father would not be put off for long. He could roll over and bare his belly in submission, but that was not his way, his new outlook on life notwithstanding. Besides, his grandmother had told him that while it was all well and good to choose happiness for yourself and to pick your battles wisely, you should never allow yourself to be anyone's doormat.

He also realized several things.

First, his father had indeed just asked that question, and Kurt himself had hesitated too long to deny it. That was fine; he felt no need to deny anything or anyone.

Second, there was no doubt in his mind that Finn Hudson had placed this particular bee in Burt Hummel's trucker cap and instigated this interrogation. One look at the other boy confirmed this, for Finn's eyes were lighted with guilt, hurt, envy, anger, and, above all, smug triumph. Kurt would never forget that look, and he would ensure Finn did not leave this house without some measure of recompense.

Third, Mercedes must have come by this information from Finn and had thus partially engineered this machination. Kurt recognized this as an unassailable truth, for his father would never have had the temerity to confront him over Finn's accusation unless it had been validated by Kurt's own best friend. The sharp spike of betrayal shot through his heart before he mercilessly batted it away. This was her revenge for his standing up to her this morning, he realized. He was content to allow her her Pyrrhic victory, for he knew she would never enjoy it. Once the adrenaline wore off and she realized what she had done, her guilt would judge her more harshly than he ever could.

There was no coming back from this for them, he knew. He would never forgive her; his pride and vanity, the two sins to which he had always been prey, simply wouldn't allow it. Even if could move past her betrayal, he could never again trust her. Their friendship was over. He was somewhat startled by the sense of relief he experienced, one which outpaced his sense of loss. He believed they both had probably seen this coming for some time. Their relationship had been waning ever since he had remained with the Cheerios. They had both acted poorly toward each other during that time, but he knew Mercedes still nursed hurt and harbored resentment for his decision, interpreting it as him choosing others over her. He wasn't sure she had been wrong to think so.

Truthfully, they had never recovered from when she had busted his windshield. His grand reveal about his sexuality had in essence only sown more secrecy between them. Her crush on him had continued; he had ignored it and hoped it would go away, not wanting to deal with it. That had been a mistake, for it had only encouraged her to regard him in a certain way, one which was inappropriate for a girl and her gay best friend. His crush on Finn had distanced them further, and he had always been curious as to why she never had more to say about it, though he'd never had the courage to ask her. Her messages had been so mixed, alternately chastising him and then cheering him on, he never got a clear read on her feelings about the whole thing. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to know.

Then he had led the Cheerios to a national victory and, while she had congratulated him, he had seen the scorn in her eyes. They hadn't even discussed Glee's devastating loss at Regionals. His new friendships with Santana and Puck had taken her by surprise, as he knew they would, but her anger over them confused and hurt him. He had defended her reaction that morning, but Brittany's words had struck a chord. Why wasn't he allowed to have friends other than Mercedes? He had the feeling she'd only ever tolerated Tina and Artie because they had been his friends since childhood and knew that if she had forced the issue, she would have lost.

What did she want from him? If this was about her crush, if it was actually still in effect, she had to know that nothing would ever happen between them. He had made that clear. There must have been something more. He wished he had it in him to care, but he didn't.

He would always treasure what they had, but the good would be forever colored by this moment.

Fourth; for once, Rachel Berry was the unknown quantity in the equation. He glanced at her fleetingly and was surprised he was unable to read her like the open book she had always been to him. What was her motivation in this scenario? There was fear in her eyes, of course; that was to be expected. She had always known she could push him only so far and had been careful to mind that point.

But there was also disgust and betrayal and confusion, none of which were aimed at him. He blinked as realization washed over him and suppressed derisive laughter. Finn had sold her some line to ensure her presence. He was quite curious as to what it was.

Finally he looked at his father, pleased by the noticeable flinch, obviously aware that his son had slipped into what some considered his damnable Borg mode, designed to fully unseat his opponent.

He was only startled out of his ruminations by the comforting pressure Carole's hand was exerting on his lower back. At least one person was on his side. He was glad it was her.

"Oh, my," he said, smiling thinly at his father. "Is this my intervention?"

---

Sam shepherded Stacy and Stevie through the front door and winced as he was immediately assaulted by the smell of pizza. He loved his parents, he truly did, but they were both worthless as cooks. He'd grown up on more than his share of takeout, and while his siblings saw no problem with inhaling fast food by the pound, he preferred more healthy fare.

Also, pizza was a particular weakness of his, second only to Cool Ranch Doritos, which he was fairly certain were made with some kind of potion that made one addicted to them after that first bite. He figured the evil genius upon whom Severus Snape was based was responsible.

Stevie scrambled up to his room while Stacy pranced into the kitchen.

"Sammy's got a boyfriend!" she sang loudly. And off-key, Sam noted.

He cursed himself for stupidly babbling to them about Kurt, but it had felt wonderful to talk to about the boy. Besides, he knew as much grief as Stacy would give him over this, she'd keep her mouth closed in public and punch anyone who talked smack about her elder brother. He kind of loved that about her. Still, at home, she would be an absolute nightmare. He couldn't wait until she had her first crush. He would show no mercy.

His mother Savannah immediately emerged into the hallway, a feral grin on her face.

Sam sighed.

"Tell me everything about him," she commanded.

He pouted.

"Wait! Let me get your father."

"Joy," Sam said crossly.

Savannah stuck her tongue out at him, then grinned again and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Scott! Sammy has a boyfriend!" she bellowed.

Sam gritted his teeth, unsurprised when his father suddenly materialized in the room like some kind of freaking demon.

"Why do we all have names that begin with the same letter?" Sam demanded. "What are we, the Midwest Kardashians?"

Savannah grimaced and waved him toward the kitchen. He rolled his eyes and followed. By the time he got there, Stevie was already sitting at the table next to Stacy, staring longingly at the pizza boxes. Sam decided to limit himself to only two pieces, though he could have easily consumed an entire pie and then asked for more.

"I got you a chef salad," Scott said.

Sam smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

"Yeah, yeah," Savannah impatiently said, waving a dismissive hand. "What about the boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend!" Sam protested.

Her lips curved into a feline smile. "Not yet, you mean?"

Sam flushed and looked away.

Scott raised a brow. "You really like this boy," he observed.

"We're just friends," Sam insisted. "Maybe down the road there might be something more but, for right now, we're just friends."

"What's his name?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably, knowing the interrogation would not be put off, but wanting to prolong the discussion for as long as possible. He sat next to his brother and reached for his salad, taking a bite and chewing it methodically. He ignored the blatant staring of his alleged family.

"Kurt Hummel," he finally said.

Savannah silently mouthed the name, deciding she liked it. It was strong but elegant.

"Is he gay or bi?" Stevie asked.

Sam looked at his little brother and raised a brow.

"I know about this stuff!" Stevie squawked.

"Kurt's gay," Sam reluctantly admitted, "though he makes out with girls an awful lot." He frowned. "Actually, they're queuing up for him."

Scott gave his son a shrewd look. "Are you certain he's gay, son? He's not setting you up for a prank or anything?"

Sam shook his head, a soft smile on his face. "Kurt would never do something like that," he said quietly.

Savannah peered closely at him. "You really do like him."

Sam blushed and nodded.

His parents exchanged a worried glance, which Sam ignored.

"It's not like Lincoln," he whispered. "Kurt's not like that."

Savannah slowly nodded. "Alright. We know you're a good judge of character, Sammy, so if you trust this Kurt, we'll trust your judgment."

"Thanks."

"So what does he look like?" she then asked.

Sam's blush turned furious.

"That cute, huh?" she cooed, grinning.

Sam squirmed. "He's…he's beautiful."

Savannah stared at him and then glanced at her husband, some unknown discussion occurring between them.

"How did you meet him?" she finally asked.

Sam heaved a sigh of relief. This was much more neutral territory. "Through the guidance counselor, Ms. Pillsbury. Kurt was assigned to be my Peer Mentor. Basically, it means he's showing me around school and stuff." He paused. "He also knows about my dyslexia and was…really cool about it, actually. He offered me tutoring whenever I need it."

"So he's smart?" Scott asked.

Sam nodded. "He's in the top three of the junior class, and all of his courses are super advanced. He's in AP everything and he's already placed out of a bunch of stuff. He speaks six languages."

Savannah's brows all but shot off her forehead. This sounded like prime future son-in-law material.

"He was on the football team last year," Sam continued, "and he's about to be announced as head cheerleader." He took another bite of his salad and chewed it carefully. "Apparently cheerleading is a big deal at McKinley. The squad is called the Cheerios, and they've won six national championships. Kurt won it for them last year by performing a full routine while singing a fifteen-minute medley of Celine Dion songs. In French."

Scott gave a low whistle while Stacy decided Kurt Hummel was the most important person on the face of the earth.

"He sings?" Savannah asked.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Understatement. He's in the glee club and took me to their morning and afternoon practices. They're really good. They made it to Regionals last year. I auditioned, and I've got a spot if I want it, but some of those kids are really weird. One girl actually accused me of being a spy out to destroy her."

Savannah snickered. "Seriously?"

Sam nodded again. "She's really out of control, and when Kurt defended me, she threw him to the ground and ran out of the room. She came back and apologized, though, and Kurt said she'll probably give me cookies tomorrow."

"Sounds like a screwball," Stevie remarked, chomping on his pizza.

Sam shrugged, but nodded. "I wasn't impressed. She's really talented, but I think her cheese slipped off the cracker a while ago."

"But Kurt defended you?" Savannah asked, eyes sparkling.

Sam sighed and shook his head. "Yes," he hissed.

"It's so cute!"

For the first time since he was seven years old and his mother announced she was pregnant with Stacy, Sam wanted to run away from home.

Scott cleared his throat and Savannah threw up her hands and backed off.

"So," Scott said, "your Kurt is smart, athletic, and artistic. Sounds like a winner."

A soft smile appeared on Sam's face. "He is, and he's really nice, you know? I mean, you wouldn't think so at first, because he comes across as cold and aloof, but he's a genuinely nice person. He took me around the whole school and introduced me to my teachers and his friends, some of whom are really awesome, like this guy Puck. Apparently, he used to bully Kurt something awful but, at the end of last term, he went and apologized and really meant it, and Kurt forgave him, so now they're friends. Puck's very protective of Kurt."

Savannah blinked. "Well, Kurt certainly sounds very mature. What about his parents?"

Sam winced. "It's just Kurt and his dad. His mom died when he was little."

"That's sad," Stacy softly said.

Sam nodded. "It is," he quietly agreed. "I guess he was really close to his mom, but his dad sounds cool. He knows Kurt is gay and totally supports him."

"Good," Savannah staunchly declared, nodding.

"What about his other friends?" Scott asked. "The ones to whom he introduced you?"

Sam shrugged, stabbing his salad with his fork. "Most of his friends are girls, and some of them are really great. In a way, they're all kind of stereotypical. There's the sassy black girl, Mercedes, who's his best friend and is probably in love with him. There's the blond princess, Quinn, who used to rule the school with an iron fist in a velvet glove, but she fell out of grace last year when she got pregnant by Puck. They gave the baby up for adoption."

His parents exchanged another look.

Sam paused. "It was really hard on her," he finally said. "Their assignment for Glee was to sing about something they learned over the summer, and Quinn sang about how her baby changed her for the better. She gave a lot of the credit to Kurt. I guess he really helped her through some bad stuff. I don't know too much about it. I don't think many people do. Their friendship seems to have taken a lot of people by surprise, but the way they look at each other…I think they would really kill anyone who threatened the other."

He sighed. "The crazy girl is Rachel. She's the captain of the club. She has a great voice, but sounds like Streisand. I mean, her voice is awesome, but she's boring. She's also kind of obsessed with Kurt. She considers him her only competition, so she's always trying to get under his skin. I guess it used to work, but it didn't today and she kind of became unhinged. But then he gave her this big speech about how she needs to learn teamwork and that she's no more valuable than anyone else. She seemed to listen to him, but I don't know," he finished, shrugging.

"This is fairly unbelievable," Scott said.

Sam nodded. "Pretty much. It's like we moved to Mayberry or something. Rachel is dating this guy, Finn, who is way too involved with Kurt's life. Finn's mom is dating Kurt's dad, and I can't figure out if Finn is trying to do the big brother thing, or if he just wants in Kurt's pants. Their dynamic is crazy strange. Kurt had a crush on Finn last year, who had a big gay freakout over it and I guess now regrets it. Kurt's nice enough to him, but you can tell he just wants Finn to go away."

Savannah shook her head. "It sounds to me like this whole club revolves around Kurt."

"You'd think," Sam agreed, "but not really. These people have tons of their own drama. It's just that I paid more attention to Kurt and how they reacted to him then I did to them as individuals."

He then realized how that sounded and blushed.

Savannah wanted to coo once more but restrained herself.

"Whatever," Sam said, shaking his head. "At any rate, Kurt's friends with almost everyone in the club, and they all really like each other. They protect and defend each other. It's nice. They're like a family, even the crazy ones."

"So do you plan on joining?" Scott asked.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe? My audition was good. Kurt accompanied me on the piano and sang backup for me. It was awesome! But if I do this, I want to make sure it's because it's something I really want to do, not just because I want to hang with Kurt."

Scott nodded. "Makes sense to me. What does Kurt think?"

"He agrees," Sam replied. "He told me that he wants me to be happy, and if Glee will help with that, he'd be thrilled, but that our friendship isn't predicated on me joining. He wasn't recruiting me or anything, he just wanted to include me."

"Well, he sounds like a fine young man," said a pompous Savannah.

Sam rolled his eyes but laughed. "Um, do you want to hear him? Sing, I mean? His friend Brittany recorded it. She's sweet, but a little spacey. She can't stop kissing Kurt and calls him her dolphin."

"Dolphin?" Stevie repeated.

Sam nodded. "According to Brittany, dolphins are just gay sharks."

"Well, they are," Stacy announced, huffing when everyone stared at her. How did they not already know this essential information? It was obviously up to her to seek out this Brittany and proclaim her genius to the world.

"I want to hear!" Stevie said, tugging on Sam's shirtsleeve.

Sam smiled and withdrew his phone from his pocket, opening the file.

The rest of his family picked at their meal as the song's opening measures began flooding out of his phone. He was annoyed that they weren't paying Kurt the proper attention he deserved, then realized he was being ridiculous and fought the blush that was threatening to emerge.

Stacy was nodding along with the music as Savannah's nails tapped out a rhythmic accompaniment on the table. Scott kept his face schooled into a polite mask, though he was surprised by the high key in which Kurt was singing. Regardless, the boy certainly had a beautiful voice. Stevie now looked utterly bored.

As the song continued, Sam noticed the slight looks of awe his family began donning. His father, whose musical tastes were particularly refined, appeared enraptured. Sam knew his dad was much more impressed by good technique over flashy vocal gymnastics, and while the song was almost tailor-made to show off Kurt's range, he didn't oversing it. His mother was staring at the phone on the table as though it was some alien technology not of this world. Stacy eyes seemed far away, probably determining which Harry Potter couple the song best suited. She was a total Harmony stan. Stevie's mouth was opening and closing as he tried to anticipate the words and softly sing along.

And then Kurt hit that note, holding it for all it was worth, and Sam smirked with pride at his family's collective gasp.

"Wow," Stevie whispered. He rolled his eyes when Stacy shushed him.

As the final notes died away, Scott blinked heavily. "That was lovely."

Savannah snorted. "Lovely? He did that live, with no autotune. His voice is strong, but not overpowering. He made me feel..."

"Like a natural woman?" Stevie innocently suggested.

Savannah glared at her younger son.

"As though you were part of the song?" Sam offered.

Savannah nodded and Sam nodded in kind.

"That's what he does," he added, shrugging. "He makes it personal; not just for him, but for the entire audience. There were twelve other people in that room, and it felt like he was singing just to me. If you asked the other twelve, they'd say they all felt the same way."

Savannah cleared her throat. "So when can we meet him."

It was a statement, not a question.

Sam dropped his head and sighed. "This family sucks," he muttered.

They all laughed at him.

---

Standing outside the door of the house where evil dwelt, Emma was experiencing a very real crisis of conscience.

She shouldn't have been there; she knew that. She had absolutely no business colluding with Sue Sylvester of all people, and certainly not to undermine a fellow colleague.

But there she was, and she couldn't seem to walk away. She didn't really want to, either, which scared the hell out of her.

Sam's words had been haunting her all day. No student had ever before thanked her for helping them. In fact, she was unsure as to whether she had actually helped any student.

The entire encounter had been very sobering.

She had always somewhat prided herself on her ability to do her job. She had more than the minimum educational requirements. She liked kids, particularly teenagers, and wanted to help them make choices which would better their lives. She kept up with the latest trends and lingo in order to do just that. She felt she was a good person who was nice and approachable.

She sighed.

She also knew that, too often, she let her own personal hang-ups interfere with her job, possibly to the detriment of her students.

She frowned. She couldn't allow that to continue. She had waited too long to take an active role in the lives of the children she was supposed to guide.

But was this the right thing? Allying herself with Sue Sylvester could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be considered a good thing. Still, Sue at least went to bat for her students, which was more than Emma could say for herself; or Will, for that matter.

Also, she quite liked Sam and was more than fond of Kurt. Unlike the rest of the faculty, she had never willingly blinded herself to the abuse that boy was forced to endure at McKinley. She had always been ashamed by how she had done nothing to interfere with that, though she also knew that, had she tried, she would have been thwarted by the administration at every turn.

Resolve deepened, though she was still wary, she swiftly carried herself toward the door and knocked in what she hoped was a confident manner.

Before she had even removed her fist from the wood, the door swung open and a bemused Sue Sylvester was staring down at her.

"Evangeline," Sue greeted her. "I was wondering how long you planned on lingering on my doorstep like a rabid raccoon in search of moldering crumbs." She narrowed her eyes. "In the name of Madonna, Eurydice, what the hell are you wearing? You look like a traffic cone."

Emma swallowed her fear and distaste for the woman before her. She knew she couldn't afford to prevaricate, nor could she show any weakness. "A colleague of ours denigrated one of your Cheerios to another student this morning."

Sue's eyes widened. "Name."

"Daniel Parks."

Sue curled a lip. If there was any man she hated more than that walking feather duster Will Schuester, it was Daniel Parks. Any chance she could get to make his life as miserable as he deserved, she would take, at least until her coup against Ryan Seacrest could be fully realized. But why would Ernestine present her with such a delicious opportunity?

"Why are you telling me this and not that insufferable Gandhi wannabe who alleges himself an educator?" she demanded.

Emma fought the blush spreading across her cheeks. She had gone to Figgins, of course, but had gotten nowhere, which hadn't surprised her. Her disdain for that man had grown exponentially over the years, and she simply could no longer tolerate his blasé approach to administrating.

"He wasn't willing to interfere," she admitted. Her mouth set in a firm line. "His refusal to do his job hinders my ability to do mine." She paused. "I don't like you, and I don't trust you, but I can no longer sit back and allow his idiocy to hurt the children who have been given into our care."

Sue smirked. Well, wasn't this interesting? Who knew the doe-eyed moppet had a backbone? If nothing else, this should be good for a few laughs. She therefore decided to entertain this nonsense and stepped back, allowing this rejected Disney princess into her domicile.

Emma hesitated only briefly before stomping her way inside.

Sue closed the door and leaned against it. "Details."

"Parks made disparaging remarks about Kurt Hummel to Sam Evans, a new student," Emma stated in a rush of words, desperate to remain in control of herself and not run screaming from the house.

Sue's eyes hooded as she felt all the blood in her body rush to her feet. "More."

Emma laid it all out for the woman: how Kurt was Sam's Peer Mentor, how Sam had come to her after his algebra class and reported Parks for his derogatory words, how Kurt was unaware of these facts and that Sam wanted him to remain in the dark, and her failed attempt to corral Figgins into action. She was quite proud of herself for reciting the facts concisely and unemotionally.

"I can't sit back anymore and do nothing," Emma whispered fiercely, staring at the carpet and deciding it needed a thorough vacuuming. "Kurt is a good boy. He's an excellent student; a real tribute to his parents and our school. His sexuality should be a nonissue. If Figgins won't do his job, then it's up to the rest of us. This cannot continue."

Sue was surprised, pleasantly so. She had believed herself to be Porcelain's only ally among the faculty. Certainly Will Schuester didn't count. If she could use the Glo-worm before her as her mouthpiece, she could help Porcelain while standing in the background, looming like a vulture and unable to be accused as possessing anything so ridiculous as feelings.

"Evans," she said. "He was hanging all over Porcelain today. The last time I saw a set of lips like that, there was a fishhook through them. What's his story?"

Emma sighed. "I can't get into specifics, but he had problems at his last school. Let's just say he understands what Kurt is being forced to endure, as well as a disinterested and even enabling faculty."

Sue gave Strawberry Shortcake points for keeping a student's confidence. Of course, she would have New Kid investigated immediately. She didn't want him getting any ideas about Porcelain. Only Sue Sylvester was qualified to make life-changing decisions for one Kurt Hummel, and until she was convinced Fishlips was worthy of sharing the atmosphere with one of her Cheerios, he was suspect.

"I happen to know Daniel Parks is quite allergic to bees," Emma said offhandedly, blushing once more.

Sue threw back her head and cackled. "Welcome to the Dark Side, Emma."

---

"Why don't we all sit down?" Carole hesitantly suggested.

"Thank you, but I prefer to stand," Kurt replied, though he nodded kindly at the woman. He then turned to her son. "You ambushing me in my home appears to be becoming a pattern."

Rachel and Mercedes frowned as Finn flushed under his mother's glare. Before he could even posit a reply, however, Kurt faced his father.

Burt had been momentarily quelled by the startled and then emotionless looks his son had donned, but his anger and fear had reasserted themselves and he saw nothing but rage, only exacerbated by the fact that Kurt had yet to deny the accusation. Still, Kurt's point had not been lost on him. Kurt had once again been attacked in his own home, courtesy of Finn; this time, however, Burt himself had led the charge.

"Please explain to me how you arrived at this conclusion," Kurt demanded of his father.

Burt began bellowing as Finn and Mercedes started babbling, and while Kurt filed away their declarations, it was Rachel to whom he paid attention. Aside from her obvious nervousness, there was a building resentment on her face which was clearly leveled at Finn. Further, Kurt's charge of past ambushing had obviously not escaped her attention and she was questioning as to whether her boyfriend had another agenda for this meeting.

"Let me see if I understand this correctly," Kurt said slowly. "Finn left his class under the pretext of going to the bathroom, stalked me to the choir room to spy on me, and overheard me singing a song. Then, on the basis of absolutely nothing, deduced that I'd lost my virginity over the summer and shared this conclusion with his girlfriend and my best friend. None of them bothered to ask me directly if his belief had merit, and then the three of you went behind my back and presented this nonsense to my father."

He blinked. "Is that the gist of it, then? Have I forgotten anything?"

Finn and Mercedes studied the carpet as Rachel meekly shook her head.

"I see," Kurt said, nodding, and again looked to his father, "and you never sought to question this conclusion or wonder if there was another purpose behind it. You didn't call me to address the matter or even ask me to come home so we could discuss it, but instead waited until I arrived home to begin preparing dinner for us, your fiancée, and her son. You obviously had no qualms about embarrassing and humiliating me in front of people I once called my friends."

Rachel's eyes filled and she ducked her head. She had known this was a bad idea, but her concern for Kurt had completely trampled logic and she had just lost whatever ground she might have gained with him earlier that day.

"We are your friends!" Mercedes insisted.

Kurt chuckled darkly. "No, I don't think so. Not after this."

"Don't blame them," Burt barked.

Kurt arched a brow. "Why shouldn't I? How would you feel, Dad, if three people you trusted, whom you believed were friends, had done this to you?"

"You're not denying it," Burt said gruffly.

Kurt stared at him evenly. "I have no intention of commenting on this one way or the other as long as they're here. This is not their business, and despite what all of you think, I am entitled to some measure of privacy."

Burt flinched.

"Please leave my house," Kurt said to Finn, Rachel, and Mercedes.

"Kurt!" Mercedes screeched.

"This isn't your house!" Finn loudly objected. "It's Burt's!"

"Finn!" Carole yelled. "Shut your mouth and mind your business."

"Actually, Mr. Hudson," Kurt said coldly, "this is my house. It belonged to my mother and was willed to me. My father holds it in trust until I'm of age, but the house is mine."

Burt winced but said nothing.

Finn's eyes widened, as did Carole's, for she'd had no idea. Why hadn't Burt told her this information months ago when they had first tried living together, or when they had discussed making renovations? The fact that the house actually belonged to Kurt certainly indicated that he should have been involved in any plans for it.

"Get out," Kurt hissed at Finn, his eyes narrowed to slits, "and to make it clear, I fully support the relationship between our parents and will play nice for their sake, but you and I are not friends. We never will be. Never speak to me again as though we are."

"Kurt," Burt said in warning.

Kurt's eyes flashed as he glared at his father. "Stay out of it. This is not your business."

"Wrong!" Burt screamed. "Everything you do is my business."

"Incorrect," Kurt said dismissively, "and the fact that you kept them here, lying in wait for me to come home so that you could use them as cannon fodder has not gone unnoticed."

"Now you wait just a damn minute!" Burt roared.

"No," Kurt said calmly, "you will wait a minute until the others leave. This is not a community discussion, and if you seriously believe that I would talk about something this private and personal in front of people I no longer trust, then it's obvious you have no idea at all who I am."

"I sure as hell don't," Burt spat.

Kurt ignored his father and turned to Rachel. "As interfering and controlling as you are, I don't believe this was your idea."

She frantically shook her head.

"What was it Finn told you to get you here?"

"I didn't..." Finn tried to interrupt.

"Shut up, Finn," his mother growled.

Rachel drew a shallow, shaky breath. "When he came to me before lunch, he told me what he thought your song meant," she whispered, closing her eyes. "The way he phrased it...oh, Kurt, I thought you had been raped!"

Kurt's eyes widened and Carole gasped.

"I didn't want to do this," Rachel said, her voice stronger. "I didn't want to come here. I told them not to. I wanted to ask you privately and give you this number to a crisis hotline," she continued, withdrawing a piece of paper from her skirt pocket. She then hung her head. "Even if my worst fear was true, I would never have put you in this position, but I was worried about what they would say and how they would say it. I asked Finn if he thought...that was what happened, and he said no, but he was so uncertain and I was so scared..."

Kurt stared at her for a long moment. "I believe you," he finally said.

Rachel wisely kept her mouth shut, not wanting to push him any further.

Kurt then turned toward Mercedes. "Did you mention Rachel's fear to my father?"

Mercedes sat sullenly, not immediately answering. Finally, she grunted, glaring at Finn all the while.

"Finn!" Carole hissed.

"He could have been!" Finn insisted.

"That doesn't give you the right to go running to Burt about it! You don't even know if it's true!" she exclaimed. "Who do you think you are?"

"I'm his brother!"

"You're not," Kurt said decidedly. "Even after our parents marry, I will never think of you as such. No brother of mine would have done this. No brother of mine would have started a physical altercation with Noah in the middle of rehearsal because he's my friend. No brother of mine would have threatened Sam to stay away from me. No brother of mine would have stalked and spied on me." He gave Finn a measured look. "You are in no way my brother."

"How could you have slept with someone else?" Finn exploded.

"Someone else?" Kurt blankly repeated. "You're acting as though I've cheated on you."

A pregnant silence fell as everyone in the room considered that analogy.

"Oh, my god," Rachel whispered, shaking her head dumbly.

Mercedes closed her eyes, Carole was visibly trembling with rage, and Burt stared at Finn as the final, unwelcome piece locked in to place.

"I see," Kurt said quietly.

"I'm not gay!" Finn screamed.

"I don't belong to you, Finn," Kurt said, ignoring the oft-screamed denial. "What I do or with whom I choose to do it is none of your concern. You should also be very grateful that I haven't yet returned this favor, because you best believe I know far more about you than you do of me."

Finn raised fearful eyes to Kurt and at once understood that the other boy knew about his night with Santana. All Kurt had to do was drop a few choice words and his relationship with Rachel would be over. That didn't even take into consideration how Rachel would react to the confrontation between Kurt and himself in the basement.

"Please leave," Kurt repeated, "and take Mercedes with you."

Mercedes shot to her feet and opened her mouth, but Kurt cut her off.

"Don't," he warned. "There is no excuse for what you've done. I don't know if I'll ever manage to forgive you, but I will never again trust you."

"I was worried about you!"

"No," he said flatly, "you were jealous. Let's not pretend that we don't know each other as well as we do. We both know that, had the situation been reversed, I never would have done this to you. I would have asked you directly. That's what friends do. They don't go behind each other's back and inform on them to their parents, particularly with erroneous information gleaned by Finn Hudson. You have no real excuse. This was vengeance, not concern."

Just like that, Mercedes knew it was over. As compassionate and forgiving as Kurt could be, he could not abide betrayal. For weeks, months even, perhaps since the beginning of last year, she had been pressuring him, testing him, trying to discern his limits and what he was willing to put up with where their friendship was concerned, and he had let her get away with a lot, far more than she would have allowed him. Now, she had pushed too far.

"It never would have been me, would it?" she whispered brokenly. "Even if you were straight, it never would have been me."

"No."

She snorted and shook her head. "Santana, then? Quinn?"

"Brittany."

Mercedes nodded, sucking her teeth.

Burt stared at the girl as though he didn't even know her.

"Even I knew that," Finn said sourly.

"What you know couldn't fill the eye of a needle," Kurt said dispassionately.

"We're leaving, Finn," Carole snapped. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Carole," said a grateful Burt, rubbing his face with a hand. "I think that's best."

"I wasn't talking to you," Carole barked, her disgust with how he had handled this obvious, as she reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand. "I'll call you tomorrow, honey."

Kurt nodded gratefully at her and squeezed back.

Carole then ushered her son from the house, leaving the door open behind her.

"They're not your friends," Mercedes said to Kurt. "Santana, Quinn, Brittany. They will end up hurting you. They don't care about you like I do."

"For which I am very much relieved," Kurt replied. "Your kind of care has harmed far more than it has helped." He paused. "I've never led you on," he said quietly. "You were the first person I came out to, Mercedes. I was very clear that I'm gay. I never made promises to you. I never insinuated in any way that we had a future together in that way."

He shook his head and sighed. "I've been a good friend to you, Mercedes. I've defended you from others, I've taken slushies for you, I've helped you with your homework. I've supported you in Glee. Never have I tried to tell you who your friends can be. Never have I tried to limit you.

"I can honestly say that, up to this point, you were a good friend in return," he continued. "We've had our ups and downs, and I understand how difficult it can be for someone to be my friend. I've been taciturn and moody. I've been petty and judgmental. I've made some truly unkind and hurtful remarks to you, disguised as helpfulness. I am more than willing to accept my share of the blame for the demise of our friendship, and I am very sorry that it had to end this way, but I think it best we part ways now before we hurt each other anymore than we already have."

Mercedes nodded but couldn't bring herself to apologize. Even now, even though she recognized the veracity of his words, even though she appreciated his willingness to accept his portion of blame for mutual resentments which had been building for quite some time, she was still angry that he might have slept with someone else. She picked up her purse, debating trying to hug him goodbye, but finally rushed out of the house, eyes welling.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel whispered.

"I accept," Kurt said. "I know this wasn't your intention and that you were acting only out of concern for me, but you should have come to me first."

She nodded. "I know."

"I won't tell you," he said, answering her unasked question. "My past relationship with Finn is complicated. I'm sure you've deduced that I know things about him that you don't, and while I don't much like him at the moment, I won't report on him to you. Your answers will have to come from him."

"I respect that," she said, nodding. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Rachel."

She all but fled from the house, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Kurt and Burt stared at each other.

"Ask your questions," Kurt softly said.

Burt wanted to do just that, but felt overwhelmed with guilt. He had bungled this so badly, completely mishandled the entire situation, and his son had just lost three people who, for better or worse, were important to him; people who had motives of their own for coming here tonight.

"Were you raped?" he asked in a tremulous voice.

"No."

Burt heaved a tremendous sigh and closed his eyes. "Thank god. Oh, thank god." He sat down heavily in his recliner and was silent for several long moments. "Did you have sex?" he finally asked, his voice raspy.

"Yes," Kurt answered, sitting primly on the sofa and staring at his father.

"Were you going to tell me?" Burt asked, still unable to look at his son.

"No."

Indignation flared in Burt's eyes. "Why the hell not?" he hissed.

"Because I knew how you would react and, apparently, I was right. Besides, it's not any of your business."

"Like I said before," Burt ground out, "everything you do is my business."

"Not this," Kurt countered. "This belongs to me and only me. I don't ask about your relationship with Carole because I know it doesn't concern me."

"It's not the same thing at all!"

"It is," Kurt insisted. "I respect your boundaries, but it's obvious that you don't respect mine." He tilted his head. "However, since this can of worms has been opened, I will try to put some of your worries to rest. Yes, I had sex. No, I was not raped or in any way coerced. It was completely my decision. Yes, I was safe."

Burt set his jaw and looked away. "Who was it?"

"You don't honestly believe I'd answer that question, do you?"

Burt swiftly turned to face his son and glared.

"I'm not going to give you a name, Dad, because I know you. You would try to track him down and harass him. Maybe even fly to him and confront him for what you believe he's done to me." He sighed. "I had sex because I wanted to have sex, Dad."

Burt bit his lip as his eyes filled with tears. "You don't know what you've done," he whispered, shaking his head.

"On the contrary," Kurt snapped, "I know exactly what I've done. I also know what you're doing. It's what you've always done. I'm your son, Dad, not your daughter. I don't need you to protect me. I've been protecting myself for a long time now."

"I know you're not a girl!" Burt roared.

"Do you? I don't think so." He paused. "I'm curious, Dad. If you and Carole were married and you discovered that Finn had had sex, how would you react?"

"Finn's not my son."

"He is when it suits you," Kurt said. "He's your son when you want someone to watch football with you. He's your son when you want someone to go to a game with you. He's your son when he's out on the field and people are cheering him on."

"It's not the same," Burt whispered.

"Of course not. We both know that if the positions were reversed and I had shown up tonight with Mercedes and another friend in tow to inform Carole that her son had had sex, you would have ranted and raved at me while defending Finn. You have a complete double standard where I'm concerned.

"What I don't understand is why. I get very good grades. I've never done drugs. I've never experimented with alcohol, save that unfortunate incident last year with April, and I didn't even know what she had given me until it was too late. I don't sleep around. I help you at the shop. I'm responsible with my money. I cook for us, clean the house, do the laundry, and help you in the yard. What else do you want from me?"

"You don't understand," Burt morosely repeated.

"I'd like to understand," Kurt whispered.

Burt was quiet for a very long time. "You're my son, my baby. You're all I have left of your mother." He sighed, tears glittering on his lashes. "I've felt it the past year, you moving away from me, growing up. I don't want...I want you to stop it."

"I can't do that, Dad," Kurt said softly.

Burt bit his lip so hard it split. "I know...I know I'm not always fair to you. It's hard for me, Kurt. I look at you and I still see the day you were born. You were so small I could hold you in one hand. I look at you and see you learning how to walk, running away from me. I see you in that little suit on the day of your mom's funeral, trying so hard to be brave." He released a harsh, wet noise. "And you were. You were so brave. Braver than I ever was. You always have been."

He wiped at his eyes. "When I look at you, I see what could happen to you. I see how easily you could be hurt. I just don't want to see you hurt."

"That's not what this is about," Kurt said angrily, refusing to allow his father to skirt around the issue.

Burt narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Then tell me what it's about."

"It's about the fact that I'm gay. It's about the fact that I slept with a man."

Burt flinched before he could stop himself.

"I knew it," Kurt said bitterly.

"I don't give a damn that you're queer!" Burt thundered. "I've always known. I knew before you did!"

"But you don't accept it," Kurt volleyed. "You say you do, and you publicly support me, for which I am grateful, but you don't accept it." He threw up his hands. "How did you think this was going to play out, Dad? That I would change and suddenly become straight? That this was just a phase and soon I'd be out chasing girls while you slapped me on the shoulder and handed me a box of condoms? I'm gay, Dad. I like men. I sleep with men."

"Shut up!"

"No," Kurt said defiantly. "We're not putting off this conversation anymore just because it makes us uncomfortable. This is who I am, Dad. If you can't accept it, tell me now."

Burt turned away. "I...I..."

"You don't want to," Kurt said, nodding his head. "I see."

"I'm trying to protect you!"

"No, you're trying to shame me. I won't let you."

"I am not!"

"You are, but I'm not ashamed. I had sex with a man about whom I cared a great deal. He didn't seduce me. He didn't trick me. He didn't drug me. We met, we had a lot in common, and we spent a great deal of time together. I grew very fond of him. We both went into this with eyes wide open. We knew our time was limited and that our relationship wouldn't survive the separation. When we made love, it was a mutual decision. We took all the necessary precautions."

Kurt was growing more and more belligerent, and it was difficult for him to rein in his temper. "And you know what? It was wonderful. It was fantastic! I don't regret it, and nothing you can say or do will make me regret it."

"Watch your mouth, boy," Burt warned.

"No," Kurt snapped. "I'm tired of watching my mouth. I'm tired of tiptoeing around my own father, afraid to speak, afraid to act, afraid to be myself completely because of what might happen. I'm tired of being terrified that I'll finally say or do the wrong thing and that all of your support will evaporate in my face. I'm tired of wondering if I'm going to end up one of those teenagers who's thrown out of their house because they're gay. I'm tired of wondering what will happen if I ever had a boyfriend, something I've wanted so badly and for so long, just for a chance to feel normal, knowing I'd probably have to date him in secret - not because of how others would react, but because of how you would react!"

Burt's eyes widened.

"You go to every single one of Finn's games," Kurt charged. "You go out of your way to do things with him, to be the father he's never had. I've heard you brag about him to all the guys down at the shop. Well, what about me? I've been working there for years! I can strip down and rebuild an engine in a day, while Finn can barely pump gas without the National Guard being called out. When's the last time you took an interest in something I do?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Burt crossly demanded.

Kurt shot him a look filled with disbelief. "Are you serious? How many piano and dance recitals did you skip out on, or the plays I did in elementary school? You were always too busy with the shop. You own the shop! You set the hours! I've been in Glee going on three years, Dad, and you've never come to a single performance. We won Sectionals last year! We went all the way to Regionals and, although we didn't place, we put on an amazing performance!

"I led the Cheerios to a national championship just a few months ago and you could've cared less! Sure, you drove me to the airport, but you didn't walk me in. You didn't wish me good luck. I was on ESPN, your favorite channel, but you didn't watch. You didn't even know I had won until I told you! How do you think that made me feel?"

Burt flushed and looked down at his hands, now wringing themselves desperately in his lap.

"Oh, but as soon as I get on the football team, a game which you knew very well I couldn't stand, you couldn't wait to come and cheer me on," Kurt said snidely, "but when I do something I love, something at which I excel, something that's important to me, you could care less."

"I tried so hard to please you," he seethed, years of bitterness and resentment bubbling up and rising to the fore. "I sat up in this room for years, feigning interest in football and baseball and basketball and NASCAR, and in all of your ridiculous extreme fishing and hunting and trucking shows. You knew I hated it, that I was miserable, but you said you wanted us to spend time together." He shook his head. "You only want to spend time with me when it's convenient or it's something you want to do. You're only interested in me when I'm the one making all the effort!"

"I...I didn't know you felt that way," Burt said quietly.

"You mean you didn't know I figured it out," Kurt replied, "but I did, a long time ago. I just didn't care because I wanted to be with you. How do you think it feels to know that your only living parent can only be bothered to spend time with you when you're doing what he wants?"

Burt flinched.

"And all of the grief you gave me about going to visit my grandmother this summer!" Kurt continued, his face flushing darkly. "You actually put me on a guilt trip and tried to make me feel sorry for leaving you! I hadn't seen her since Mom's funeral! She's all I have of Mom, but you didn't care! You made me feel ashamed for wanting to see the only family I have left!"

Kurt sighed. "I love you, Dad. You're the most important person in my life, and while I know you love me, I really don't think you like me."

"That's not true!" Burt immediately denied, eyes huge and horrified.

"Yes, it is," Kurt said sadly, biting his lip and forcing himself not to cry.

Burt couldn't believe his son actually felt this way. When had this started, he wondered. Never had he believed Kurt resented him this much, but, now, listening to his list of grievances, some of which pained him to admit were justified, was heartbreaking. What had he said or done, or not said or done, to make his baby believe that he didn't like him?

And then he realized he had hesitated too long to set Kurt's mind at ease. When he looked over at his son, he saw that Kurt had already retreated from the entire situation, closing himself off from anything Burt might try and say now.

"You say you don't think of me as your daughter," Kurt said, "but neither do you think of me as a man, Dad, and that's what I am. Gay or not, I am a man."

"About this guy..." Burt said, trying to redirect the conversation, preferring righteous indignation over feeling like a failure as a parent.

"I'm not telling you anything about him," Kurt said stiffly. "It's over and done. I wouldn't take it back even if I could."

"This can't go unpunished," Burt said.

Kurt nodded. "You'll do what you feel you have to."

Burt didn't even know how to interpret that statement, but he was sure he had just been insulted. His anger renewed itself and all he could think of was hurting Kurt as badly as he himself had just been hurt. He knew it was childish, knew he was overreacting and being too defensive, and he resented that a teenage boy had made him feel this way. It was one of the things that bothered him the most about Kurt, having a child who was so much smarter than you.

"You're off Cheerios and out of Glee."

Kurt stared at him for a long moment. "If that's your decision," he finally said, nodding and standing up. "May I go to my room now?"

Burt sighed, knowing that though he had won the battle, he was ultimately losing the war. "We have to discuss your schedule at the shop."

"We don't, actually," Kurt said. "I resign."

Burt blinked owlishly. "What? You can't do that!"

"I can," Kurt insisted. "I'm not going to come down there every day and subject myself to the stares and whispers, as I know you'll be informing all of your friends that I'm being punished. The last thing I need is them wondering why."

"I need you down there, Kurt," Burt sighed.

"You'll have to train someone else or find a new mechanic," Kurt replied. "I paid for all of my training and certifications, so there's no monetary loss to you. I'm sure there are others who would like the opportunity. It's a growing job market and the economy is tight right now."

"I can't believe you're doing this to me with no notice," Burt said angrily.

"And I can't believe you decided it would be a good idea to discuss my private life, my most intimate behavior, with traitors," Kurt snapped back. "Call Finn. I'm sure he'd love to work at the shop with you. Then he can finally fulfill his deluded fantasy of having everything I do."

Burt shook his head. "I'm disappointed in you."

Kurt nodded brusquely. "Not nearly as disappointed as I am in you. If you'll excuse me, I need to revise the now gaping holes in my schedule. By the way, thank you for taking away my extracurricular activities during the most important year of my high school career. I'm sure it will look wonderful on my college applications."

He grabbed his bag, left the groceries on the couch, and quickly left the room.

Burt heard his son quietly shut the basement door behind him and clamber down the stairs before he closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands.

---

Kurt paced about his bedroom, regretting everything he had just said to his father, despite its veracity.

He had bitten off more than he could chew, he realized, and wasn't sure how to go about rectifying it. He hated fighting with his father; it happened so rarely, he didn't really know how to guide himself through it, though he saw no easy resolution in sight.

He should have controlled himself better and not taken out all of his anger at Finn and Mercedes out on his father. Still, he was furious that his father had confronted him in such a manner, let alone in front of Finn, Mercedes, Rachel, and Carole. On some level, he felt badly for his father, being presented with that information by outsiders and not Kurt himself, but, as he had said, it was no one's business but his own. He still felt that way and believed he always would.

Had he been hasty in resigning his position at the shop? On the one hand, he thought he was. He didn't have to work, but he enjoyed it, and knew there were no other opportunities in Lima which would pay him nearly as much as his father did. He would, of course, be welcome at any one of their competitors, but he couldn't do that do his dad, no matter how angry he was. Most likely, he'd be stuck with some minimum wage job with other people his age and which he would never bother to put on his résumé.

On the other hand, he had grown somewhat bored with the shop and its regularity. There was never anything new or exciting, except studying up for his recertification. True, he was in the vicinity of his father, but they had never really spent any time together at the shop. There was simply too much to do.

Still, he had derived a certain satisfaction from the routine, of knowing where he was going and what he would be doing every day. Also, he enjoyed working with his hands. It validated something within him and gave him a sense of macho pride, that he had skills which many of his male contemporaries envied.

What a mess.

He would have to do something about his entire school schedule, as well. Even though he didn't receive a grade, Glee had offered him three credits in Performing Arts; without it, he would fall under the minimum number of mandatory credit hours. Being Sam's Peer Mentor offered an additional credit, as well as some community service hours, but he already had more hours than any three people. He wouldn't abandon Sam, of course, but he would have to add an additional class to make up for the loss of Glee, which would mean a lot more work than Glee required.

He worried about how Glee would qualify for Sectionals; even if Sam joined, they would still be down two members. He didn't feel guilty, of course, as it wasn't his decision to leave, and he felt some measure of vengeance that Finn and Mercedes would be made to suffer for his absence. Still, he felt bad for the rest of his teammates, as well as Schue; they certainly didn't deserve this.

Figgins and Sylvester would probably be frothing at the mouth to abrogate the club altogether, but Kurt had a plan in mind as far as that was concerned, as well as how to negate Sylvester's resulting furor.

He would go to school early in the morning to explain the situation to Schue. He felt it best to handle that in person. Sylvester was a different matter; if he didn't call her in the next five minutes, she would annihilate him tomorrow for putting her off. He certainly wasn't looking forward to the conversation, but as he wasn't to blame, he wasn't too worried.

He debated for a moment as to whether he should offer up Finn and Mercedes as sacrificial lambs before deciding that he couldn't be that petty. Besides, he figured Santana and Quinn would see to them. There would be no point in his trying to dissuade them from such action, nor would they believe anything other than the absolute truth as to why he had resigned. They would do what they wanted; they were like people that way.

He sighed and sat down on his bed, willing away the tears which had gathered and were demanding release.

He shouldn't be crying, he thought. He should be stronger and focus on the positive, but there was little positivity he could muster, and self-pity sounded really nice at the moment.

But there would be time enough for that later, he decided. He wiped his eyes and dug through his bag for his phone. He sighed once more and called Sylvester.

---

The woman must have had her DNA spliced with that of a howler monkey, Kurt decided ten minutes later.

Sylvester, unsurprisingly, had been furious, but thankfully hadn't blamed him. He could tell that she had desperately wanted to, of course, but had been unable to find a way to hold him accountable. He hadn't told her about the role his former friends had played in this involuntary expulsion because he was honestly afraid of what she would have done to them. As much as he didn't like Finn and Mercedes at this moment, he didn't want to subject them to a Sue Sylvester vendetta.

He had assured her that he would still have a new routine ready for her in time for the pep rally next week, even though he was no longer on the team. He would design it around Quinn, as he obviously was no longer in contention for head of the squad.

He thought he should have been more upset about that, but he really didn't have it in him. Quinn was familiar with the responsibilities of the position and was itching to prove herself once more to Sylvester, so she was welcome to it. He had felt rather smug that he had worked his way up the Cheerio chain so quickly, but he also knew that it was easy to fall from grace depending on Sue's whims, which seemed to change like the wind. It was pressure he didn't need.

When Sue had demanded a reason why she should allow him to design anything, he'd simply said Kylie and she dropped the entire subject.

He had also convinced her to name Brittany and Santana as assistant captains by pointing out that, unless she was given some measure of power, Santana would rebel and waste everyone's time trying to dethrone Quinn. Like Sue, he believed that competition was healthy among teammates, but that kind of infighting simply wasn't conducive to a functioning squad. Santana would manage to turn at least half the Cheerios against Quinn before next week and it would be disastrous for everyone involved.

Besides, Santana had earned her due after taking over for Quinn last term and performing admirably; to take that back now would be tantamount to sparking a mutiny. Brittany needed to be given an equal role because she had earned it, and when Brittany was happy, Santana was happy. Santana would do nothing which might humiliate the other girl.

Luckily, Sue had seen the wisdom in this. Also, restoring the Unholy Trinity to their former glory would only instill more fear in the restless masses, which always pleased her to no end.

She had named him as an Assistant Manager, a position much like the one Becky enjoyed, and would brook no argument to the contrary. It was a title with no real power - he would essentially be a figurehead - but neither would it make any demands on his time; plus it would look good on his college applications. Basically, she had put him in charge of wrangling Quinn, Brittany, and Santana.

He had told her that giving him the title went against his father's punishment, but she had told him flatly that his father should have bothered to learn loopholes.

Kurt was still expected to wear his uniform on rehearsal days, even if he wasn't attending the practices, and he was rather happy about that. The uniform was like a suit of armor for him, and made him feel powerful. He was also entitled to all of the benefits of being a Cheerio, so he had really gotten a pretty sweet deal.

Though she had never said it, and would have backhanded him across the state for even suggesting it, he knew Sue felt sorry for him. She had also tried to interrogate him about his summer fling, but he had staunchly refused to tell her anything. He was not about to cede any information which might give her more power over him, but knew she was likely to try and unearth some intelligence. She wouldn't find any and would most likely be frustrated by the experience, which was a bonus, but it ultimately wasn't his problem.

He would have to meet with Pillsbury tomorrow morning and try to find another class to work in to his schedule. He'd also have to consider new extracurriculars to add. He wasn't about to go out for football again, or any other team sport for that matter. He thought about yearbook and the school newspaper, but they would probably take up more time than he was willing to sacrifice and he would also be forced to spend more time with Rachel. He might not have been angry with her, but he had no desire to become her new best friend and, being who she was, she'd try to make the most of the opportunity.

So: new class, new activities, and a new job.

He nodded. He could do this.

He snorted and shook his head.

He finally gave up the ghost and succumbed to the tears before dialing the phone once more.

---

Artie was carefully and methodically chewing his food, paying due attention to the number of bites he afforded to each morsel. He figured that as long as his mouth was full, he could continue to dodge his parents' gentle but insistent questioning about the demise of his relationship with Tina, as well as how and why he had started dating Brittany.

Apparently he had been freer with his comments concerning the other Glee members than he had ever realized, because his parents had discreetly asked about Santana. He had given a long-winded explanation which really didn't answer their question, worried about how they would react that Brittany was bisexual. Granted, they had never had an issue with Kurt's sexuality, but he didn't want to push the limits of their acceptance.

He also had the feeling that his parents knew he and Brittany had had sex. He wasn't sure how they knew, but was certain they did. That was a can of worms he definitely didn't want to open.

It was odd, how both he and Kurt had lost their virginity during the past summer.

He frowned and slowly worked his way through his green beans. Kurt. Something was happening there, he knew, and it worried him. The feeling of general unease had been increasing during the last hour.

"Artie?" his mother said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Something's wrong with Kurt," he blurted to no one in particular.

Sheila blinked and exchanged a look with Jeffrey. It was a bothersome diversion from their interrogation, but they loved Kurt as their own and trusted their son when he said something was wrong.

Artie reached down and plucked his phone from the bag attached to his wheelchair. As soon as his fingers wrapped around the device, it rang. It was Kurt's ringtone.

Artie scrambled to accept the call. "What's wrong?" He paused. "Are you crying? You don't cry."

Jeffrey's eyes hooded.

Artie listened for a long time, his brow furrowed and mouth affixed in horror. His parents exchanged another nervous look.

"Why would they do that?" Artie hissed, his face growing more and more red the further Kurt elaborated.

"What!" he screeched.

His parents laid down their flatware and blatantly stared at him.

"I'm on my way," Artie declared. He shook his head. "Don't argue with me, Kurt. You shouldn't be alone right now." He listened further. "I don't care what Uncle Burt thinks about it. If he has a problem, he can take it up with me. I'll be there in twenty minutes. I'm spending the night."

He hung up and released a long, painful sigh.

"What's happened?" Sheila immediately asked.

Artie gave his mother a flat look, obviously struggling with what to tell her. He certainly didn't want to violate Kurt's confidence, but knew his parents wouldn't drive him to the Hummel house until he gave them a valid reason.

He prevaricated longer than was appropriate, and his parents finally had enough.

"Is Kurt in trouble?" Jeffrey asked.

Artie sighed again. "Kurt...met someone...while he was in Europe."

Sheila frowned. "Okay," she said slowly. Both she and Jeffrey knew that Kurt was gay and could've cared less. He was a good boy who had been a lifeline for their son for as long as any of them could remember. "So?"

"They slept together," Artie whispered.

Jeffrey blinked, a sudden surge of protectiveness for Kurt shooting up his spine. "And?"

Artie groaned and banged his head on the table. "Finn somehow found out, told Mercedes and Rachel, and the three of them went to Kurt's house and told Uncle Burt."

Sheila's eyes widened to the size of banjos. She could only imagine how Burt Hummel had reacted to that bit of information. And, really, what right did those children have to interfere in Kurt's life that way? It was thoroughly obnoxious!

"I knew," Artie hissed. "I knew Finn's feelings for him were more than just friendship, but I convinced myself that all of it was over." He shook his head ruefully. "I should have known better after today, after the way he overreacted to Puck and Sam." He growled and slammed his hand down on the table, rattling all of the crockery. "I can't believe Finn did this! And now Kurt's off Cheerios and out of Glee!"

Sheila huffed. "That's ridiculous!"

Jeffrey looked pained. He understood Burt's impulse, but this punishment was not well thought out and would only alienate him further from his son.

Artie suddenly began to panic. "Kurt quit the shop. This is really bad. Neither one is going to forgive the other for a very long time. You know how stubborn they both are." His eyes widened. "Kurt was talking about going abroad for college even before he went to Europe this summer. He might really do it now."

He couldn't be separated from Kurt, he just couldn't be. It had only been a few weeks, but he had already seen the toll it was taking on Mike to be separated from Matt. Artie knew he wasn't strong enough to survive that. He knew he was probably more dependent on Kurt than what was healthy, but he truly didn't care.

Stupid Finn!

"Will one of you please drive me over there?" Artie asked his parents, closing his eyes. "He sounded...he was so...he was crying. You know Kurt doesn't cry. I'm worried about him."

Jeffrey nodded swiftly and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Of course. If you're staying the night, you'd better go pack a bag and get your books."

"Thank you," Artie said gratefully, whirling around in his chair and shooting off toward his room.

Jeffrey and Sheila looked at each other.

"They both lost their virginity this summer," Sheila said.

Jeffrey nodded. "Remember when we thought they'd end up together?"

She smiled sadly. "I guess they have, in a way."

"I know you wanted..." he trailed off uncomfortably.

Sheila had always believed that Artie and Kurt were closer than best friends usually were and was convinced they would one day date. She hadn't been worried about it and, if it had happened, Jeffrey would have accepted it. Still, he believed that the bond between his son and Kurt had simply been firmly cemented when they were very young, due to Artie's accident and the death of Suzanne Hummel.

"I just want them to be happy," she said, "even if it's with other people." She sighed. "I'm worried about this Brittany girl, but I know Kurt is very fond of her, and if he thought she might hurt Artie in any way, he'd never allow her to get near him. That means something to me."

Jeffrey nodded again. "Do you think he's right to be worried about Kurt?"

She hesitated only briefly. "I don't think Kurt would ever do something stupid, but I'm sure he's very upset. This was a gross invasion of his privacy, and I can only imagine how he must feel. And I'm sure that Burt's overreacting. We both know Kurt, Jeff. He does what he wants, when he wants. He's been an adult since he was a child. If he slept with someone, it was because he wanted to."

"They've both waited longer than most of their peers," Jeff said, trying to find the silver lining. "They're smart boys, and they watched what the Fabray girl went through last year. I'm sure they used protection."

Sheila nodded, though her eyes were very far away. "They're growing up."

"That's what children do, honey," Jeffrey said awkwardly, patting her hand. "I'd better go warm up the van."

She nodded again and took a sip of her wine. "They're growing up," she softly repeated.

---

Tina and Mike were doing their calculus homework together in her room, the former still very surprised the latter had been allowed upstairs.

Tina knew her parents were worried over her sudden breakup with Artie and new relationship with Mike. She was also a little annoyed that they were so much more accepting of Mike than they had ever been of Artie, and knew the predominant reason, as far as her mother was concerned, was because Mike was Asian.

Even though Mike wasn't Korean, even though they didn't share a language, a cultural history, or a religion, he had been deemed a more suitable boyfriend than Artie. It was a little grating.

Of course her father had never objected to Artie because they were both Jewish and her father had somehow gotten it in his head that, because Artie was in a wheelchair, he wasn't capable of having sex and therefore Tina was safe with him. He hadn't wanted to allow Mike in her room, but her mother had overridden him, as she did with almost everything.

As much as Tina silently complained about how controlling Mike's mother was, it was largely because the woman reminded her so much of her own mother and she was desperate not to turn out like either one of them.

She sighed and stubbornly worked through the integral.

"You okay?" asked a distracted Mike.

Tina frowned and considered the question. She wasn't okay, really; she just didn't know what the problem was. "Something's wrong," she said.

Mike blinked and put down his pencil, looking at her nervously. Had he done something to upset her?

"I don't know what it is," Tina continued, turning to face him, "but something's wrong."

At once, both of their phones trilled.

They regarded each other with worried looks before reaching for their respective phones.

"It's Artie," Tina said, looking down at the screen.

"Matt," Mike said.

They looked at each other once more. "Kurt."

They answered their calls. "Hello?"

The next few minutes were filled with angry exclamations and exhortations, with Mike stunned and not a little turned on by the breadth of Tina's vocabulary.

Tina was furious. This would not go unavenged.

---

Puck parked a few blocks away from Peterson's house, giddy with excitement about whatever the Princess had planned to go down this fine night.

He was no fan of Peterson, and if the punk had done something truly heinous - which he must have, if Hummel were going after him - he was all about discovering the grizzly details.

He sauntered down the street toward Peterson's house, pausing to blink, sure that Wheels had just passed him in his van. He shrugged and dismissed it from his mind as he continued his stroll. Just as he turned the corner, he happened upon Azimio, attempting to crouch in the neighboring row of bushes. He looked beyond the hedge and his eyes widened as he saw three police cars parked in front of the Peterson house.

"What's happening?" Puck asked.

Azimio startled and released a squeak before attempting to turn it into a manly cough. "I've been here about five minutes," he growled out. "The cops were already here. I don't know what's going on."

Puck grunted and squatted down on his haunches to wait.

"Jewfro's hiding over there," Azimio added, pointing to a distant tree. The dork was hanging around when I got here, so he probably knows more."

"The Princess must have tipped him off."

Azimio raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Hummel."

Azimio blinked. "He lets you call him that?"

Puck shrugged. "He knows I don't mean anything by it."

Azimio thought about that for a moment. "He said before that he trusts you." He shook his head. "What I can't figure out is why. You were almost as bad to him as Dave and me."

Puck turned to face him and cocked his head. "You saying you know what you did was wrong?"

Azimio darkened slightly and ground his teeth. "I don't like...what he is."

"Why?" Puck demanded.

Faced with a pointed question, Azimio found he had no ready answer. "It's not normal," he finally said.

"Whatever, man," Puck said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "I just don't get why you care. It's not like he's chasing after you or anything, so what's it matter?"

Azimio pursed his lips and said nothing. There really was nothing to say to that. "You saw how he chased after Hudson," he said weakly.

Puck snorted. "Ever hear Hudson tell him to stop?"

Azimio's eyes widened. "You saying Hudson's queer?"

"I didn't fucking say that," Puck hissed. "All I'm saying is that Hummel's crush didn't come out of nowhere, okay? And Hudson had no problem running to Kurt with his every problem. He was just fine with Kurt helping him with his homework and Glee. Fuck, Hudson would've failed last year if not for Kurt. As it was, we only won one game, and that was thanks to the Princess. What's he ever done or said that deserves all the shit he gets?"

Azimio grimaced. There was truth in Puck's statements, no matter how much he wish he could've denied it. Hummel may have been blackmailing them, but he could've fucked them over a long time ago, and a lot more viciously, with all the shit they had pulled on him. Plus, the only reason Peterson was going down tonight was because he'd been talking shit about Brittany.

He could say a lot about Hummel, and he had, but he had to give the little fairy props for always having his friends' backs. It was something Azimio understood. He always sided with Dave, even when he knew Dave was wrong about stuff. And maybe, just maybe, Dave had been wrong about Hummel.

"They're coming out," Puck whispered, scrambling for a better position. "Peterson's in cuffs!"

"Shit, man," Azimio hissed, "Hummel wasn't kidding, was he? They wouldn't arrest Peterson for nothing."

Puck nodded absently. "As soon as they haul his ass away, we need to talk to Jewfro. Cut through this yard, go around the Peterson house, and come up through the other neighbor's yard. I'll cross the street and work my way down."

Azimio nodded and took off.

Puck was about to leave when his phone vibrated. He frowned, withdrew it from his pocket, and looked down at the screen. Tina.

"Huh."

He dismissed the call, shoved the phone back in his pocket, and scurried across the street as covertly as possible.

---

Brittany was too entranced in playing Words With Friends to interfere in the argument Quinn and Santana were currently having.

Also, she didn't care.

Santana and Quinn always argued, and it was nice, Brittany thought, because it was so normal. Besides, they were fighting about which Kardashian show to watch, and since she thought all Kardashians were shameless whores, she couldn't be bothered with which show would win. Especially since she had already hidden the remote.

She blinked and frowned down at her phone when it lit up and made a lot of noise.

Quinn and Santana paused their screaming to turn and stare at her.

"Is that the Flipper theme song?" Quinn asked, now struggling not to laugh.

"It's my dolphin!" Brittany happily screeched. She quickly accepted the call. "Kurty!"

Quinn and Santana watched her with bemusement, which quickly turned to concern as Brittany's pallor turned pasty.

"What's wrong?" Brittany asked softly. "Kurty, why are you crying?" Her own eyes had automatically welled in response.

Quinn's eyes widened as Santana began growling in Spanish.

Brittany listened for a very long time, blinking rapidly as she tried to process what Kurt was telling her.

"But why would they do that?" she shrieked, jumping to her feet.

Santana followed suit and raced to her side, quickly followed by Quinn.

"What happened?" Santana hissed.

Brittany waved her off, intently listening to Kurt's words. Her hand clutched her phone so tightly, it looked like it would crumble to dust at any moment. She angrily shook her head and began throwing everything into her bag.

"I'm on my way right now," she said. She paused. "Oh, okay." She nodded. "Are you sure, Kurty? I can be there in ten minutes."

Quinn and Santana exchanged a look.

"Don't worry, Kurt," Brittany said. "They're not going to get away with this." She sighed. "If you think so." She nodded again. "I'll tell them." She sniffled. "I love you, Kurt. I'm so sorry. Tell Artie I said hi and that I really like his penis, okay?" She bit her lip. "Okay," she whispered. "Bye."

Brittany ended the call and her phone slipped from her hand to the floor as she stared ahead sightlessly at the bedroom door. "Bitches," she seethed, vibrating with fury.

Quinn opened her mouth to ask the obvious, but fell silent at Santana's glare. She held up her hands, content to let the other girl handle this. After all, Santana knew Brittany best.

"Who?" Santana asked.

Brittany whirled on her heel to face them, her eyes practically spitting sparks. "Finn." She curled a lip. "And Aretha," she hissed venomously.

Quinn's eyes hooded, all of her misgivings about Mercedes suddenly given much greater weight.

"What did they do?" Santana carefully asked.

Brittany glowered. "Remember this morning when you asked Kurt if he'd met anyone this summer?"

Santana blinked. "And he did?"

Brittany nodded.

Santana hooted and pumped a fist in victory. "Woo! Tink got some!"

Quinn remained silent, desperately curious as to where all of this was going.

"Somehow, Finn found out," Brittany continued, "and he told Rachel and Mercedes."

"Wait!" Santana barked. "Berry's involved in this?"

Brittany shrugged. "Not really. She was as much a victim as Kurty."

"How?" Quinn wondered.

"What exactly went down, Brit?" Santana demanded.

Brittany released a slow, controlled breath. "Finn, Rachel, and Mercedes went to Kurt's house and told his father that Kurt had sex."

The other girls blinked.

"What the fuck?" Santana finally screamed.

Quinn's mind immediately started creating and discarding scenarios. She could well believe that Finn had done something so colossally stupid, and it was no surprise Mercedes had gone along with him, given the matter involved. "Where does Rachel fit in to this?"

Brittany's mouth pursed into a moue of disgust. "That's what's so gross. Finn let Rachel think that Kurt had been r-raped."

Santana's mouth fell open in shock.

"That's sick," Quinn whispered, shaking her head, voice filled with disbelief. "Are you saying Finn let her think that just so she would go with them and lend weight to their story?"

Brittany nodded.

"But he...Kurt wasn't...that didn't happen, right?" Santana said in a strangled voice.

"No," Brittany quickly said. "He met someone in Spain and they did it." She burst into tears. "Kurty was so happy! He said it was really good and he didn't have any regrets or anything. The only person he told was Artie."

"Artie's over there?" Quinn asked.

Brittany nodded. "He's on his way. Kurt was so upset, Quinn. He was crying, and it was awful. I could barely understand him, he was crying so hard." She collapsed in the chair and stared down at the floor. She then snorted, shaking her head. "Finn overheard him singing a fucking song and then just decided he knew everything and couldn't wait to run and tell."

"What a complete asshole!" Santana thundered.

Brittany sniffled. "Kurt said that Finn made it sound like Kurt had cheated on him or something."

Quinn and Santana stared at her.

"That...makes sense," Quinn said slowly.

"That little fucker," Santana hissed.

Brittany chuckled mirthlessly. "That's not even the worst part."

Quinn's eyes bulged. "How much worse could it get?"

Brittany heaved a tremendous sigh. "As punishment, Kurt has to quit Cheerios and Glee."

Santana shook her head. "No."

"He already called Coach."

Quinn shut her eyes. She could only imagine how that conversation had gone.

"She accepted his resignation," Brittany continued, "and made him Assistant Coach. Quinn, you're captain again, and Santana and me are assistant captains."

"But Kurt was going to be captain!" Santana exploded. "He deserved it! He earned it!"

Quinn nodded. She could take no pleasure in this. She knew the best she could have hoped for was to have been named co-captain with Kurt, and she had been okay with that. She didn't want the headship like this.

Brittany shook her head sadly. "Glee's over. We can't compete at Sectionals with ten members, and there's no way Sammy will join now."

"Goddamn it!" Santana screamed, picking up her old Holly Hobbie and throwing it across the room.

Quinn sat down on the bed, staring off into space. There had to be a way to fix this.

"We're going to make them pay," Brittany vowed. "No one hurts my Kurty."

Santana was already plotting.

"He didn't ask me to do anything," Brittany said, smirking, "but he didn't tell me not to, either."

Santana's raucous laughter filled the room.

"We leave Rachel out of it," Quinn announced.

Brittany nodded. "Kurt said she felt terrible. She was crying. Finn totally played her."

Santana sighed and ground her teeth. "She was just trying to help," she spat, almost against her will, "but she should've asked Tink directly instead of going behind his back."

Quinn nodded. "She probably hasn't even realized what this means for Glee, which just goes to show how upset she is."

Santana shrugged. "Whatever. I don't give a crap about Berry. We won't hurt her, but she's not a part of this, either. She'll second-guess everything and blab about whatever she doesn't like."

"That's fair," Brittany chirped.

Santana set her jaw and shook her head. "Hudson is a piece of shit. Why the fuck should he care who Kurt sleeps with? He hasn't even told Berry that we fucked." She smirked. "I wonder what would happen if she found out?"

Quinn gawped. "You slept with Finn?"

Santana rolled her eyes.

Quinn saw red. She wasn't jealous; far from it. She was angry. Finn was truly an idiot whose double standards ended up hurting everyone but him. "This isn't the first time Finn has pulled something like this in Kurt's house."

Santana's head swiveled so fast, it almost snapped off and rolled under the bed. "Excuse me?"

"What do you know?" Brittany demanded.

Quinn related, with only mild reluctance, the incident that had occurred between the boys in Kurt's basement.

"I'm going to make him suffer," Brittany swore.

Santana's phone began ringing and she sullenly went to retrieve it. "Now who the hell is this?" she asked of no one before accepting the call. "Lopez, here. Start talking."

She winced and held the phone far from her ear as the room was filled with screeching in a language none of them immediately recognized.

"Wow," said a startled Quinn.

"That's Tina!" Brittany happily exclaimed. "Artie must have called her."

"Jesus fuck, Goth Girl," Santana shouted. "I don't even need to know what the hell you're saying to get your drift. I'm impressed." She listened and nodded. "Yeah, he just called Brit." Her eyes widened. "I don't think it's physically possible for Hudson to do that, but I'd sure as hell like to watch while you forced him to try."

She shrugged. "Yeah, come on over. Is Asian Abs with you?" She nodded. "Yeah, okay, I'll order some pizzas. You got the address? Okay. Quinn and Brit are already here. I'll call the Puckhole." She blinked. "What? Oh, yeah, he's probably scoping out the Peterson thing, whatever the hell that's about. Okay, try him again, and tell him to call Evans. I saw them exchange numbers earlier. Later."

She turned to the others. "They're on their way," she said unnecessarily. "I'm sure we'll think of something."

Quinn smirked. "I already have. We'll consider it Phase One. There's nothing Finn loves more than his popularity, so that has to go."

Santana's grin was positively wolfish. "Spill it."

"Activate the Cheerio Phone Tree. We're going to need some help."

---

Burt looked away from the muted television and listened carefully as he heard someone pull up in the driveway. He doubted it was Carole; not after the way she had looked at him earlier.

He was having second, third, and fourth thoughts about how he had handled the evening's events. He should have waited to confront Kurt until after dinner, when everyone had gone. He knew his son was intensely private.

He sighed. He had drawn a line in the sand and Kurt had walked away. As angry as he was, he understood that, and he had to give Kurt credit for not blowing his top and becoming hysterical. Of course, whenever Kurt was cornered, he either tended not to react at all or to make statements guaranteed to inflict maximum emotional damage.

Burt shouldn't have been surprised when Kurt had gone with the latter, and as much as he wanted to believe Kurt's words had been said to manipulate him and instill a guilt trip, he knew his son had meant every word, and it was killing him.

He then heard the familiar beeping which always heralded Artie's arrival in the van. The floodlights snapped on and he heard Artie saying goodnight to Jeffrey.

Burt got up and crossed to the front door, looking out the window, shuddering when Artie paused in his trek to level a glare his way which would have melted scaffolding.

The boy then calmly rolled around the side of the house and disappeared from sight.

Burt sat back down in his chair.

---

Puck and Azimio pounced on Jacob as soon as the cops hauled Peterson away.

"What do you know, geek?" Puck barked, grabbing the boy by his shirt collar.

"W-What's it to you?" Jacob whimpered, trying and failing to inject some bravado into his words.

"Talk or die," Azimio growled.

Jacob quivered and finally capitulated. "Over fifty counts of possession of child pornography."

Puck released Jacob as if burned by the words. "Peterson's a fucking pedo?" he angrily spat, shaking with rage.

Jacob nodded fearfully before taking the opportunity to escape.

"Fucking perv!" Puck roared, automatically thinking of Beth. "Sick bastard!" He shook his head dumbly as he wondered how he could've missed this, if there were signs he had ignored. But Peterson had a girlfriend! Julie Something-or-Other. Peterson was always bragging about the head she gave. He blinked and looked at Azimio, who was pale and sweaty. "Dude, you okay?"

Azimio opened his mouth but struggled to form words. "He's been in my house," he finally rasped, eyes filled with pain. "I've got a little sister, man."

Puck's own eyes widened. Thank Christ he'd never had Peterson in his own home, because if that miserable piece of shit had laid hands on Grace, Puck would've kill him before the arraignment.

"Jesus! Go home," he advised. "Talk to your parents. You've got to find out if he ever...you need to know, okay? Get her help if she needs it."

Azimio shook his head. "I never thought...it would be this. I thought drugs or something."

Puck stilled and glared. "You know Kurt wouldn't have done this unless he was sure."

Azimio nodded. "I do know." He grimaced. "Fuck, man, we've known Peterson how long?"

"I know," Puck muttered, shaking his head.

"He's been in most of our houses. A lot of us have little brothers and sisters," Azimio continued, sounding as though he were about to burst into tears or vomit up everything he had ever eaten.

"The school will..."

Azimio snorted. "Yeah, right. With Figgins in charge?"

Puck winced and then brightened. "Sylvester."

Azimio blinked. "That could work."

Puck nodded. "I'll ask the Princess. He's tight with her." He cocked his head. "Well, as tight as anyone can be with a demon."

"You think he would?"

"I think Peterson ought to be damn glad the Princess went to the cops and not his old man. Burt Hummel is fucking terrifying and owns a shitload of guns."

Azimio stared. "Then why didn't he..."

"Because that's not how the Princess operates. He deals with his own stuff."

The more Azimio found out about Hummel, the more he respected the homo. It was an unsettling and unwelcome feeling, making him rethink a lot of things, as well as wondering what the hell Hummel had on Dave. Was it this bad? Did he not know Dave at all?

He exhaled. "Will you...will you thank him for me?"

Puck shrugged. "Yeah, whatever." He rolled his eyes when his phone went off again. "What the hell does she want?"

"Who?"

"Tina."

"The Goth chick? I thought she was with Chang. You hitting that?"

Puck flushed. "I wouldn't do that to Mike, and Kurt would kick my ass. Tina's one of his best friends. He doesn't put up with that kind of shit. If he'd been friends with Finn before that mess with Quinn, I'd be in a grave."

Azimio nodded, remembering when Hummel had confronted him and Dave over pushing the Goth girl.

"Sup, Gothica?" Puck asked, finally answering the call.

Azimio tilted his head and studied Puck in confusion as the other boy's face went through a rapid cycle of different looks, most of which were pretty damn scary.

Puck finally sighed and closed his eyes. "Yeah, I'll grab Evans and meet you there." He ground his teeth. "Hey, Tina? Thanks for calling me." He dropped his phone back into his pants and curled and uncurled his fists reflexively. "That fucking prick!" he seethed.

"Who?" Azimio couldn't help but ask.

Puck peered at him speculatively. "Hudson just pulled some major shade on the Princess. And I mean major."

"That was...pretty dumb," Azimio allowed. "Shouldn't he know better?"

Puck snorted. "You'd think, but it'll be okay; he'll get his. He pissed off the wrong person."

"Tina?"

Puck smirked. "Brittany. And where Brittany goes, Satan follows."

Azimio's eyes widened.

"Gotta go. Let me know tomorrow if...Christ, I hope your sis is okay, man. If it were my sister, I'd fucking kill him, and if he touched yours, I'll help you kill him."

Azimio shook his head to clear it. "Thanks, dude." He hesitantly held up a fist.

Puck bumped it and then ran back to his truck.

---

Sam was surprised when Puck called him and demanded his address. Despite persistent questioning, Puck refused to tell him the reason he needed the information, only that he should pack an overnight bag and his homework.

Ten minutes later, Puck was on his doorstep and pushing his way inside.

Sam watched in awe as the Puckerman charm was laid on so thick it could be filleted.

Within three minutes, Puck had Sam's parents wrapped around his finger, announcing he had come to kidnap Sam and bring him to a sleepover party the glee club was throwing to welcome him to McKinley. Puck waved away their concerns that Sam might not actually join, claiming that they had already decided Sam belonged to them regardless of whether he signed up.

Worried that this was a feint for Sam to be alone with Kurt, Scott asked if the other boy would be in attendance.

"The Princess has plans with Wheels," Puck said, much to Sam's disappointment. "Some nerd thing, I guess. They're probably going to do their homework for the next month."

Savannah laughed and Scott calmed down. Puck then flirted harmlessly with Stacy and soon had her giggling and blushing before proceeding to throw Stevie around like a football, to the shrieking boy's delight.

"Here's Santana's number," Puck added, pressing a piece of paper into Savannah's hand. "I'll take Sam to school tomorrow."

The Evans parents, who now believed their fears to be groundless, pushed a confused Sam out of the house, wishing him a good party.

After they climbed in to Puck's truck, Sam demanded an explanation.

"Hudson totally fucked up Kurt's life tonight. Santana's taking him down tomorrow. Are you in?"

"All the way."

---

Puck strolled into Santana's mansion like he owned it, calling greetings to her parents, who replied with salutations of their own, though her father's were more akin to grumbling.

He led Sam up the massive stairway and stormed down the wing which housed Santana's suite.

Sam couldn't help but stare at, well, everything.

"Pizzas are on the way," Santana announced, throwing open her door and ushering them inside. She looked at Sam. "Did the Puckhole fill you in, Hot Lips?" she asked carefully.

Sam nodded, flushing. "Just the basics."

He was jealous that Kurt had slept with someone and knew he was being ridiculous. He didn't own Kurt, had no claim on him, and the whole thing sounded like a fling which was definitely over. He didn't want to believe Finn could have done something so unbelievably douchetastic, especially to his future stepbrother, but he did believe it.

"Status?" he asked.

Santana smirked. "Glad to have you onboard. Brit and Q are marshalling forces. Tina's devising strategy. The rest of us are finishing up our homework. Have you done yours?"

"Most of it," Sam said, noticeably uncomfortable.

"I'll help you with the rest," Puck said.

Santana blinked in surprise. "You will?" She then shrugged. "Oh, yeah. You're friends or something. Whatever. You're smart."

Puck wanted to thank her, but he didn't, because she would have slapped him.

"Put your stuff over there," Santana directed Sam. "I have sleeping bags and air mattresses. Mike will fill you in on everything that went down."

Sam nodded and followed orders.

"You really think the Cheerios can take care of Hudson?" Puck muttered to her.

She smirked. "Oh, you better believe it. It's not just the girls this time. See, the Cheerio boys all like Kurt. That hot ass won us a national victory, not to mention he helps them all with their homework and pathetic love lives. They didn't know half the shit he's had to put up with, but they do now, and they're itching for some payback. You don't fuck with Cheerios."

Puck grinned. This could actually work.

"And then there's the additional ammunition we have on Hudson," she purred.

He quirked a brow.

"I screwed him last term and he lied to Berry about it."

Puck burst out laughing, feeling the urge to rub his hands together like some cartoon villain.

"And this isn't the first time Hudson has ambushed Tink," she added, her face closed off.

He frowned as she told him about the argument in the basement. He wished he could have been more surprised.

"And Hummel Senior knew about that and pulled this shit anyway?" an outraged Puck demanded.

Santana nodded solemnly.

Puck shook his head and blew out a breath. "What are we going to do about Glee?"

"I really don't know," she whispered. "We might not be able to save it."

"Fuck," he growled, scrubbing his face with a hand.

"What happened with Peterson?" Tina suddenly called out. "I've been obsessively checking Jewfro's blog, but he hasn't posted anything yet."

At once, everyone quieted down and waited for an answer.

Puck curled his lip. "He's a goddamn pedophile," he hissed.

Several small explosions then took place, Santana's being the loudest.

Puck locked eyes with Quinn and knew she too was thinking of Beth and wondering how the hell anyone could look at a kid and think about...that. They both shuddered.

"Azimio was there, too," he quietly added. "He's got a little sister. Peterson's been to his house. A lot."

"Damn," Mike whispered, shaking his head.

Santana stared at Brittany, who was sitting in a corner and smirking. "You set this up."

Everyone's eyes were suddenly on the girl in question.

"Why would you think that?" Brittany asked sweetly.

Santana snorted. "Because you were smirking like that during lunch, and then again after Glee, when Azimio talked to Tink. You're responsible for this." She threw back her head and cackled.

Brittany smiled. "I may have heard Peterson trash-talking me and Kurt because I kissed him in homeroom. Then I might have started a rumor that Peterson called me retarded, knowing that it would eventually get back to Kurty. I might have known how he would react to said rumor and how he would respond." She buffed her nails on her skirt. "But I didn't know what Peterson had actually done."

"You're brilliant," Tina whispered, awe plain in her voice.

Brittany nodded. "I know."