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Sarah Puckerman can not stand to see her big brother cry. She knows something bad happened to him and his kissy-face friend Kurt, and everybody's telling her that Kurt is getting better, but he's never around anymore and Noah is really sad.
He's currently lying on his (Finn's) bed, staring at the far wall as tears stream down his face. He hasn't noticed Sarah staring at him for the last minute and a half, and that's really all the patience the young girl has.
She walks up to the bed, "Noah?"
Puck blinks, just noticing her presence, "What do you need, Bucket?"
"You're crying."
Puck touches his face and is surprised to feel tears. "I'm okay, just thinking."
"Thinking sad thoughts?"
He nods solemnly.
"About Kurt?"
Another nod, another tear.
"What happened, Noah?"
"No, Sarah. We don't talk about that."
"I don't mean that, I mean after. Why aren't you and Kurt hanging out anymore?"
"We broke up, Bucket."
"Broke up? Like dating?"
"Yeah, like dating."
"You can break up with friends?"
"Kurt wasn't just a friend. Remember the 'kissy face?' That's because we were dating."
"Oh, I just thought you did that with all your friends."
One thing Puck does not need right now is to be called a whore, even when done so innocently, "Kurt and I were dating."
"But, Kurt's a boy."
"Some boys like dating other boys."
"Oh, so... you like dating other boys?"
Puck shakes his head, "Just Kurt."
Sarah thinks for a minute, "So, Kurt was really special."
"Yeah, Bucket. Really special."
"Then, why did you break up?"
"I don't know."
"Why don't you unbreak up?"
"I tried. He doesn't want to."
"Oh... so, he dumped you?"
'Great. She doesn't understand the link between kissing and dating, but the concept of being dumped she grasps.' "Yeah, he dumped me."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Me too."
"Maybe Kurt will want you back when he's better."
"I don't think so. He doesn't really like me anymore."
"But, you're Noah," she says, as if it's the best thing in the world.
He chuckles, "Thanks, Bucket."
He may not be happy, but he's not crying anymore.
When Kurt wakes up between his parents, he's momentarily confused, and then memories come flooding back with a hefty dose of fresh shame. His leg aches at the mere thought of those damn scratches, an added punishment.
"Good morning, Kurt." Burt's mood is unreadable by voice alone, but Kurt isn't willing to look at him yet.
"Morning." 'Don't be mad.'
"Waffles or omelets?"
Kurt finally allows his eyes to open with a glimmer of hope, "I can show you how to make french toast."
"Sounds good to me. Let's let Carole sleep in."
"She's still asleep?"
"She had a rough night."
'God, ouch.' "Dad, I'm sorry-"
"Shh, not here. You'll wake her." Burt leads Kurt out of the room.
As soon as he shuts the door, Kurt starts again, "Really, Dad, I'm sorry. It was stupid and I swear I won't do anything like that ever again."
"Kurt, I love you, and for the most part I trust you, but this isn't something you can just apologize out of and hope I forgive and forget. What you did was big, and you're just going to have to accept that the consequences of that are me sticking to you like glue, and yeah, I'm pretty ticked off."
Kurt doesn't know how to respond. His apology was shot down, there's no argument to be made, and 'okay' seems pretty weak. He's left in a miserable limbo and his face must show it because his dad softens his tone.
"That doesn't mean I'm not gonna' hug you and stuff, and you can still come to me. Scratch that, you have to. Everyday, I want an hour-long debriefing of everything that's on your mind, and I know when you're holding something back. Think of me as your Shrink 2.0 starting tonight."
Kurt nods obediently.
Burt grabs his son's shoulder and squeezes, "Kurt, Buddy, I still love you the same. Now how about we start on that french toast."
Burt really does stick to Kurt. They are within five feet of each other at all times, sharing every activity, Burt's arm more often around his son than not. Burt even waits outside the door when Kurt uses the bathroom, which is humiliating and that's possibly the point.
Finn and Carole do their fair share of hovering, too, though considering the past week it's not exactly a change. The extra attention still has Kurt feeling antsy and scrutinized, and though Kurt would never admit to that, his father notices. Burt's solution is to send the Hudsons on a grocery run.
This leaves just the two of them on the couch, Burt's arm over Kurt's shoulders, watching Discovery Channel in HD. Kurt tries to let it feel normal, like any other Saturday at home with his dad, because he just can't stand the idea of the older man being mad at him, especially when there's nothing he can do to fix it.
Kurt is ripped from his thoughts by a small knock on the door. His fingers clench into Burt's jeans. He's still not too keen on strangers, despite the success of adding Dr. Kymbal to his life, and the idea of them coming to his home, his sanctuary, is terrifying.
Burt squeezes Kurt's shoulder before standing, "I'll get it. Stay here."
When he opens the door, Burt is fairly certain he's hallucinating. "Sarah?" he asks, thinking if he states the girls' name she suddenly won't be standing alone on his porch.
"Mr. Hummel, is Kurt home?"
"Sarah, where's your mom?"
"Mr. Hummel, this is very important."
Burt turns to look at Kurt, who nods. "All right, he's in the living room."
"Thank you!" Sarah moves past Burt and marches to the couch.
"Hey, Bucket..."
"Hi, Kurt. Are you feeling better now?"
"Uh, yeah, I am feeling better. Thank you." The nice thing is that, for the most part, it's the truth.
Sarah sits next to him and crosses her legs daintily. "I'm very glad." She's obviously mimicking some adult role model, "Does that mean you like Noah again?"
Kurt hadn't been expecting to have this conversation. "It's really complicated."
"I know you were dating."
"Oh." Just, oh.
"And I know you dumped him."
"Oh..."
"It makes him really sad and he's always crying."
Kurt hadn't known that, but he really didn't check up on Puck at all after dumping him, even when he came over begging for a second chance.
"Kurt, can you please unbreak up with Noah?"
"Sarah, I-"
"He really, really misses you and he's sorry for everything he did wrong and he wants to be your boyfriend again."
Kurt takes it all in, for once listening when it comes to Puck, "Thank you for telling me that."
"Does that mean you'll think about it?"
"Yeah, Bucket. I'll think about it."
Sarah throws her arms around Kurt's neck, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
The front door bursts open and the paper bag-covered forms of Carole and Finn walk through.
Burt takes the bags from Carole's arms.
"Oh, thank you, Burt. This is all of them."
"Look who came to visit, Carole."
She looks to the living room and her eyes widen in surprise, "Sarah?"
"Hello, Mrs. Hudson!"
"Where's your mother?"
"I walked here."
"She walked here, Carole."
Carole turns back to Burt, "I'll drive her home."
"Thank you."
"Come on, Sarah. Your mother must be worried about you."
Sarah shakes her head as she walks to Carole, "Mommy's not home right now."
Carole takes Sarah's hand, "Where is she?"
"Well, we're out of food, so maybe Safeway?"
"Okay, let's go," Carole takes Sarah out to the car.
Burt gets Finn to finish with the groceries so he can check on his son.
Kurt is lost in deep, unhappy thoughts. He's had too many of those, so Burt tries to pull him out.
"So, why Bucket?"
It takes a bit for Kurt to form: "Huh?"
"Why do you call her Bucket?"
Still dazed, Kurt responds in a monotone, "Little Puckerman... Little Puck... Puckette... Bucket."
Burt assumes that is the evolution of the small girl's nickname, "Ah... um, cute."
"Noah came up with it."
"Ah," again.
Kurt looks up at his father, eyes shining, "Dad, I really fucked up with Noah!"
Carole tries to call the Puckermans via cell phone. There's no answer on the landline, which Sarah explains is because Puck doesn't answer it, and Rebekah doesn't own a cell. Carole's about to just wait at the house with Sarah until Rebekah comes home until she hears the small girl's stomach growl.
"Let's go see if you mom's at Safeway."
"Okay," Sarah agrees easily.
The pair checks every aisle in the story, but Rebekah is nowhere to be found.
"Well, while we're here, we might as well get some food."
"Okay," Sarah can see the logic in that.
"What would you like?"
Sarah looks momentarily confused, then bows her head, "Oh, my mom's bringing home food right now. I don't need anything."
"Well, then, we'll just get you something special."
Sarah brightens. Charity may hurt the pride, but a gift is music to any child's ears. "Can I have Cheerio's?"
Carole grabs a cart, "Of course you can."
As soon as the box is in the cart, Carole adds, "We don't want your brother to feel left out. What kind of cereal does he like?"
"Captain Crunch."
The box falls in the cart. Carole heads to the dairy section and as milk is added to the cart, she explains, "You can't have cereal without milk." Then, with an exclamation of, "That's a low price!" she drops a block of cheddar in. "Noah loves cheese. You know what goes great with cheese? Crackers. Don't those sound good?"
Sarah nods, and Saltines appear in the cart.
"Soup goes great with crackers, too. Noah always has soup when he comes over." Five cans of Campbell's chunky are added.
"Oh, goodness, how have I not gotten you something healthier? What kind of mother am I? You mom would want me getting these." Apples, bananas, carrots, grapes.
Sarah is beginning to look suspicious.
"You know what I forgot about when we got milk? Cookies!"
The prospect of sugary treats completely replaces any feeling she might be being tricked. "Yay, cookies!"
Of course Carole has to get two boxes of cookies, for Puck to share.
Puck wakes with a start. Every time he closes his eyes, it's the same nightmare: Kurt is hurt, beaten, raped, murdered right in front of him and he can't do a damn thing about it. Each time he wakes up, there are seconds of agonizing horror in which he can't remember if Kurt is actually alive.
Then he remembers: 'Kurt is alive; he just doesn't want me.'
Though the fact that the man he loves is out there, recovering, and not in a grave is relieving, the horror morphs into a bone-deep depression that lasts until the cycle repeats itself.
It's light outside, so it must be day. The house is silent. It's always silent.
There's food in front of him and his stomach is growling, but eating would be moving and moving would be living and he's just not up for any of that.
The phone rings one... two... three... four... five times. The machine gets it. That must mean no one is home. He hopes they don't call back; he likes the silence.
Kurt always liked it loud. He had a playlist for every mood, and when his iPod wasn't handy he was singing. When Puck was with Kurt, he liked it loud, too.
There's a knock at the door.
Puck doesn't know what compels him, but suddenly he's getting up to answer it.
His muscles scream of atrophy. He hasn't gotten up in... he doesn't know how long.
He manages to fumble to the door by the third set of knocks.
He wipes dried drool from his cheek, but aside from that, he doesn't care much about his appearance. Maybe if he looks gruff enough, it will scare whoever is bothering him away and he can be alone again.
Puck swings the door open to find, "Kurt?"
