A/N: This took forever because I'm lazy. And I still haven't figured out how I'll end this story, nor do I really want to (I can't kill Kurt! I don't want cheesy happy ending!), so... I'll have to decide SOMETHING pretty soon, so... :D (But I haven't yet, so please, by all means, tell me what you'd like.~)

Plus, I attempted to write Sue Sylvester. And I failed. Miserably. I have HUGE respect for ANYONE who can manage to write her and make it believable. (lol how do you spell it?) But I suck so I can't GONNA STOP BABBLING NOW


Kurt wasn't really sure if he was brave enough to do this. While he wasn't having second thoughts about it, he had to admit: he was scared. In fact, he was sure he had never been this afraid of anything before.

Though, it wasn't the thought of the pain or death to come that took his breath away; he had been through this so many times in his mind that he was long past that. He was fully prepared for this, he wouldn't be here otherwise. Kurt Hummel was scared that after this, he would be hated, that he would be remembered for the wrong things: or worse, not remembered at all. And it was so, so selfish of him, to even want people to remember him and his dreams, while he was a coward and gave up on them. Hell, if he wasn't strong enough to fight for them, why would anyone else care about him enough to remember them?

Besides, it wasn't like it mattered: he'd be dead. It didn't make any difference whether or not a future that would never happen would be remembered. He'd be lucky if anyone even cared to remember the times when he had been there.

Would they remember? Care?

Kurt didn't honestly know anymore. Maybe he was too fucked up to be able to tell reality and his own mind apart. Maybe this was going to hurt them more that it would ever hurt him. Maybe they would get closer to each other and bond in their grief because of this. Maybe they would move on and simply remember him as one of the glee kids, nothing more than that. Maybe they would shed a couple of tears and sing a song about it. Maybe they would pray to God for him to be allowed to live in Heaven. So many maybes and he would never know.

Kurt sighed. He really, really hoped that he could be strong enough to live, or happy enough to want to. He didn't want to die, not really, and he hated the feeling: of craving, waiting, eager to die. Why did living become so hard? When did he altogether stop trying to? When did it become impossible to go on, when did it become necessery to quit? As his father said so many times: Nobody pushes the Hummels around.

Well, one more thing for his father to be ashamed and disappointed about in his son. His own son, letting himself be pushed and then quitting.

Pathetic.


The day had finally come.

The day that Sue Sylvester had predicted all along.

(Not the day when she took over the world, mind you. It was still totally going to happen, but apparently, it would take a little longer still.)

It was the amount of products in those crazy curls, that were probably most deservant of the blame, but that discussion would have to wait. The news: Will Schuester had gone insane.

Or at least, that was her first thought because one, Will was calling her and two, Will Schuester was calling her. And so, as much as she would have loved the satisfaction of hanging up on him, she couldn't help but feel slightly curious. Fascinated.

"Oh hello, Will! So nice of you to call me! Make it quick, I can hear the little elves in your hair squealing and jumping around, and trust me when I say I have better things to do than waste my time on this conversation."

"Sue."

"I think they're trying to get through from your cell phone to mine."

"Sue. I... We need your help. It's.. about Kurt."

"Ladyface, huh? What's up with Porcelain?"

"We're searching for him and we need your help. He left a suicide note."

Sue Sylvester dropped her cell phone.