Sorry for the ridiculously long wait. I had finals, then graduation, and then moving! On top of all of that, I really struggled with the beginning of this. Once I started, however, it just came-and came-and came! I finally cut it off at 8600 words. I didn't get as far as I would like, but that's fine. I also have NO idea how long this entire thing will end up being

Oh, and I went back and edited some of the previous chapters. I have a beta now, but she hasn't had a chance to look at this yet. I'm posting it anyway since you've been waiting so patiently.

What He Needs
or
How Kurt Hummel Finally Learned to Stop Planning His Life and Start Living it

By Koinaka

No, you can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
And if you try sometime you find
You get what you need

- You Can't Always Get What You Want, The Rolling Stones

Chapter Eight

In retrospect, Kurt should have seen his dad's announcement coming what with Carole and Finn spending an ever increasing amount of time at their house since his father's release from the hospital—not to mention his dad's "subtle" attempts at encouraging Kurt and Finn to become friends, something that wasn't likely to ever happen—but he hadn't seen it coming at all. All he had noticed was that their presence in the house was becoming a regular occurrence.

They had been there on Thursday evening when Kurt finally dragged himself home from ballet where he had spent an inordinate amount of time with first his class and then rehearsal.

Kurt had barely had the energy to exchange more than a few polite words with Finn—which mostly consisted of Finn saying that his song had been "pretty good" although he had expected Kurt to sing some sort of show tune "like Rachel always does" before Kurt had excused himself to eat dinner. He wouldn't have spoken to Finn at all, but his dad had given him a pointed look when he attempted to ignore Finn's greeting. Afterward, as he had completed his nightly routine relying on muscle memory more than anything else and then fallen into bed, he wondered if Finn was actually trying to be offensive or if he was just tragically obtuse. In the end, he hadn't been sure which one he hoped was true because either way, he was still woefully ignorant.

They had been there on Friday when he returned from his vocal lesson with Sam, Jeff, and Blaine in tow for what they hoped would become their new weekly routine. The plan was to alternate houses so that they spent one Friday night a month at each of their houses.

After an awkward—and incredibly stilted—conversation with his dad and Finn, Kurt had escaped to the basement with Finn following behind him. He had most emphatically not wanted to have Finn tagging along with him, but he hadn't had a good reason why he couldn't. Not only that but Finn had genuinely seemed to want to hang out with him. Or Sam, Kurt couldn't truly be certain. Either way, Kurt was once again been left with no other option than to invite Finn to join him. His dad graced him with a bright smile before he and Finn went down to the basement to join his friends.

Sam was in the process of hooking up his X-Box and getting their guitars set up to play Guitar Hero while the others were lounging on Kurt's bed arguing about which version to play first when Kurt and Finn entered the basement.

Jeff's eyes lit up when he caught sight of Kurt. "Thank God you're finally here. You can decide. I think that we should start off with Metallica while Blaine over there thinks we should play Rocks the 80's. What do you think?"

Kurt scrunched his nose. "Eww. Neither. I think my ears might bleed if I have to play through either of those. Seriously." He hesitated briefly before turning to Finn. "Do you have a preference?"

"Definitely Rocks the 80s."

The five of them had spent the rest of the night playing video games—first Guitar Hero and then, later, Halo. It was when they were doing Deathmatches in Halo that Finn once again put his abnormally large foot into his mouth.

"Whoa, dude! You rock," Finn crowed after Kurt had beaten Jeff for the third time.

"You sound surprised," Kurt said, considering Finn with one lifted brow. "Why?"

Finn shrugged. "It's just… you know. I didn't think that people like you played video games."

Beside Sam, Kurt tensed. "People like me?" he asked. "You mean gay people." His voice was emotionless, flat. "And why wouldn't a gay man like to play video games?"

He shrugged again, looking helplessly at Sam for support—why was anyone's guess because Sam was definitely not going to agree with him—and finding none. "No reason," he said, finally, with a sigh.

"Is it the same reason you didn't think that Sam could be gay because he was into sports? Or that because of my vocal range and eating preferences that I am 'like a girl'?"

Finn threw his hands into the air. "That's not what I meant at all. I just meant...artsy people, y'know? People who like ballet and that Mozart stuff you were talking about before. It has nothing to do you being gay. Rachel has two gay dads, and they're totally cool. A little scary, maybe, because they're like completely overprotective of Rachel, but still totally cool."

If Kurt had not been subjected to that Karofsky boy calling him Hummel the Homo no less than three times that day, he probably wouldn't have taken such offense at Finn's statement. After all, it wasn't as if Finn was being purposely offensive. In fact, he probably didn't even know he was being offensive because Kurt was beginning to think that his previous theory of Finn being tragically obtuse was the most likely scenario.

It was just that between Karofsky's taunts—which the administration refused to punish because there was no rule against students verbally harassing one another, something that both Kurt and his father had been up in arms about—and Finn's blasé and not surprisingly heteronormative views on gender roles, Kurt was beginning to think that ignorance and homophobia was the norm and not the exception in Lima, Ohio in general and McKinley High in particular like he had previously thought. He supposed he really oughtn't be surprised—Blaine certainly didn't think he should be—but still; he couldn't help but be both surprised and incensed at Finn's assumptions even if he had tried to play it off as something else. Before, Kurt might have given him the benefit of the doubt. Now though? Well, now, he was beginning to realize just how much ignorance there was in the world—In Ohio especially.

They had also been there on Saturday evening when Kurt returned from taking Jeff and Blaine back to Dalton. He had entered the house to find Carole and his dad putting the finishing touches on dinner, Finn sitting in the living room and watching some fishing show as if this was a normal every day occurrence, and a stack of board games—board games—sitting on the top of the bar.

"What's all this?" he asked, his eyes flitting between the dinner preparations and the board games.

The two adults shared a significant look before Carole excused herself. His dad looked decidedly uncomfortable. The man shifted nervously from foot to foot as Kurt studied him intently.

"I was just hoping that we could spend some time together tonight. As a family. Haven't seen much of you since school started, so thought it might be nice."

"As a family?" Kurt questioned lightly.

"Yeah. I figure if it works out tonight, we can make it a weekly thing. Set aside some time to spend together. I figured Saturday night would be the best time since you have something to do every other night except for Sunday."

He cocked his head to the side. "Family night. With Carole and Finn." It wasn't a question, not really, more of a statement, but his dad treated it like a question.

"Yeah," his dad said, letting out a heavy sigh. "Look, Kurt, I've been trying to think of a way to tell you this all week—hell, I was trying to tell you since before the heart attack—but there never seemed to be a good time to do it. I've asked Carole and Finn to move in with us, and they've accepted."

"Oh." Kurt said. "How soon-?"

His dad's looked rather sheepish. "They have to be out of their house by the end of next week."

Kurt didn't say anything for several seconds. "That's…fast," he said finally.

"I suppose," he allowed. "If you think it's too fast—if you aren't comfortable with this, with them moving in—we can wait."

Kurt wanted to tell him that they should definitely wait because he was not comfortable with them—with Carole or Finn—living there. He was barely comfortable with living there himself. Besides, the two of them were still trying to figure out how to coexist. How could he—why would he—bring other people into the equation so soon? Not to mention the fact that their house wasn't exactly teeming with extra room. Kurt's rather large wardrobe took up nearly every available closet space as it was. Plus, there were only two actual bedrooms not including the basement—his dad's room and the room he used for his study which also happened to be where Kurt's piano was kept.

But Kurt hadn't said any of those things because whenever he began to all he could think about was the way his dad looked at Carole. "It's fine."

As if he could read his previous thoughts, his dad continued. "I have a contractor coming to give me an estimate on adding on an addition but until then I was hoping you wouldn't mind sharing the basement with Finn. Just for a little while."

"I'm not really sure that there's room in the basement for another bed," Kurt said, carefully.

His dad paused once more and seemed to steel himself for what he was about to say. "Not with your current bed, no."

Kurt sucked in a harsh breath. His current bed, as his dad called it, was his mother's bed, a beautiful four-poster bed that not only took up a great deal of room but still smelled like his mother. His chest tightened at the very thought of getting rid of it. He wouldn't—couldn't—get rid of it.

"You want me to get rid of my bed—of her bed?"

"Of course not," his dad said at once. "Just… put it in storage for a little while. We can get the two of you twin beds until the addition is finished."

"Fine," Kurt said, though he was far from fine at the moment. He spun on his heel to head toward the basement. He stopped when he reached the door. "You might want to make sure he doesn't mind sharing a room with someone like me."

Dinner was a terse affair.

Finn and his dad spent the majority of the meal talking about various things—sporting teams they both followed and games they'd seen the previous week—while Carole spent the majority of the meal attempting to draw Kurt into conversation after conversation about how he was liking McKinley.

Kurt answered almost robotically because he could not take his attention away from his dad and Finn. It was the first time that Kurt had really observed his dad and Finn interact with one another, and he was unprepared for the way it made him feel. It was almost as if they were speaking a whole other language—one that only the two of them understood. They finished one another's sentences, flowing easily from topic to topic. Kurt was incredibly jealous. Not because he had any desire to talk sports—he didn't—but because of the ease with which they interacted. It all just seemed so easy whereas when he and his dad talked—when they talked—they had to try so hard to find things to talk about.

He didn't want to be jealous about Finn because it was just so childish, but he couldn't help but be jealous when he saw how engaged his dad was with Finn's life. He asked him question after question—how was football, how was school going, how were things with Rachel? He asked Kurt the same sort of questions, but it wasn't the same, not really, because at least with Finn, the answers were familiar to him. They were things he knew and understood. With Kurt, it was if he was speaking a foreign language. He never said that, of course, but Kurt could tell by the look his dad got on his face, like he just had no idea how to respond to that or what to think about whatever it was they were talking about.

If that wasn't bad enough, Carole had cooked some sort of pasta dish with a cream based sauce which Kurt wouldn't have eaten anyway for that reason alone, but then there was the added bonus of it being loaded with grilled chicken. Kurt suppressed a sigh and resigned himself to moving his food around on his place in an attempt to make it at least look like he had eaten something. Unfortunately, Carole had watched him closely during dinner.

"Are you feeling well? You hardly ate anything during dinner," she said once dinner was over. "I swear, Finn practically eats me out of house and home! The only time he doesn't have an appetite is when he's sick."

Her tone was cheerful and her smile bright, but neither of those things endeared her to Kurt—especially since he had already told her one other time that he was vegan.

"I'm a vegan," Kurt said.

Both Carole and his dad stared blankly at him. Kurt didn't suppress the sigh that came then. How many times would he have this same conversation?

"I don't eat meat or any animal product."

"Like Rachel," Finn chimed in helpfully.

Kurt's smile was strained. "Yes, exactly like Rachel. May I be excused? I'm not feeling very well."

He didn't bother to wait for a response or to say goodnight to either Carole or Finn. He just stood up and walked out of the room, not stopping until the basement door closed softly behind him.

When Kurt came upstairs for breakfast the next morning, he found his dad in the kitchen surrounded by piles of cut up fruit.

"I thought we could have some fruit salad for breakfast," he said when he saw Kurt's questioning gaze.

He nodded. "That would be nice. Do you need any help?"

His dad flushed and pointed to a page of printer paper that had clearly, at one point, had a recipe of some sort on it, but was now soaked through with various fruit juices, causing the ink to blur and rendering it unreadable. "I may have spilled something on the recipe."

"Not a problem," Kurt said, lightly, as he began adding each individual pile into the large mixing bowl on the counter. "It would be very difficult to mess up a fruit salad."

When all of the fruit—and it was no small amount—had been added, he grabbed a spatula and mixed it all together. No sooner had he finished did his dad hand him first one bowl to fill and then another.

"I may have gotten a little carried away with the fruit," his dad confessed a few minutes later when they were sitting comfortably at the table eating their breakfast. "I just…I wasn't sure what kind you liked."

Kurt speared a piece of pineapple. "Pretty much all fruit. Except for peaches. I've never liked peaches."

A sad look flitted across his dad's face. "Yeah, I knew that. Before your mom got pregnant with you, she used to love the things. She would eat them nearly by the bushel when they were in season. Soon as she got pregnant with you, though, she couldn't even stand to be in the same room as 'em. Used to send her running to the bathroom whenever she caught a whiff of 'em. Never tried to eat them again even after you were born."

The two of them continued their meal in silence.

Finally, his dad spoke once again. "I'm really tryin' here, kid. It's just going to take some time for us to get to know each other again."

He nodded. "I know."

His dad gave him a relieved smile. "How about I take care of these dishes and after that, we can go see what's playing down at the Cineplex?"

A bright smile spread across Kurt's face. "Sounds good. I'll just go downstairs and get ready."

If Kurt went through his morning routine—shower, skincare, hair, clothes—a little faster than usual, no one could blame him. He couldn't remember the last time that he and his father had spent time together like this, and even though they were sure to end up watching some awful action movie, he was actually excited about it.

"Sorry it took me so long," Kurt said as he breezed up the stairs and into the living room where he could hear the TV playing, "ready to…"

He came to a complete stop when he saw his dad and Finn gathered around the TV watching some football game, the words dying in his mouth.

His dad and Finn both looked up at his entrance. Kurt's eyes swept over his dad's still-pajama clad body, and then over to where Finn was sitting, before settling on the pile of snacks on the coffee table between them.

"I thought we were going to go to the movies," he said, careful to keep all traces of hurt out of his voice.

"We were—we are—It's just… I forgot that I told Finn that he could come over and watch the game here. They don't have cable at their house," his dad rambled. "We can go to the movies another day. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, that's fine. It's fine," he took a breath. "I think I'll just go to Sam's house for a while."

His dad beamed. "Great! And hey—now Finn can come along, and it'll give the two of you time to get to know each other."

Finn can come along.

Finn can come along.

Kurt just nodded. He didn't trust the steadiness of his voice enough to speak. With that, both his dad and Finn turned back to the game, neither noticing when Kurt slipped out the front door.

Sam was only mildly surprised when he answered the door to find Kurt standing there.

"So," Kurt said, brightly, "I was thinking that we should have a movie day. Whatever you want."

Another good thing about having a best friend that knew you better than anyone else was that they knew when not to push you, so even though it was obvious that something was wrong, Sam didn't even hesitate or question him. Instead he just beamed—it wasn't often Kurt gave him carte blanche when they went to the movies—and said, "I'll just grab my jacket."


Monday morning found a shaken Kurt sitting in Ms. Pillsbury's office watching as the woman in question adjusted stack after stack of pamphlets. Because Sam had a dentist appointment that afternoon and was using that as an excuse to skip a day of classes, it had been the first day that Kurt had arrived at McKinley High without Sam by his side. He had assured Sam several times the previous day that everything would be fine.

Everything had not been fine.

Perhaps that was a bit of an understatement especially considering that only half an hour ago, mere minutes after climbing out of his Navigator, he had been accosted by Karofsky and several other jocks on his way to class and tossed into a dumpster—tossed into a dumpster, he still couldn't believe it. He definitely couldn't believe that Figgins refused to take action because Kurt was the only witness—besides the jocks, and of course they wouldn't rat themselves out—and he couldn't take just his word on it.

"I am sorry, Mr. Hummel, but unless you have a witness to collaborate your allegation, there is nothing I can do. My hands are tied," Mr. Figgins had told him.

It was both ridiculous and infuriating. Not to mention, a complete and total lie. Since when did victims—and as much as he disliked that word and its connotations it was the only one that fit in this case—of discrimination and harassment need witnesses?

"So, Kurt, how are you adjusting to McKinley?" Ms. Pillsbury asked, finally turning her attention to him, a bright smile on her face.

"May I be honest with you?" he asked.

The guidance counselor blinked several times before nodding. "I've found that it's best to always be honest."

He took a deep breath and began. "I'm concerned by the homophobia I've encountered over the past week. I thought that schools were supposed to be safe places, but the environment here is anything but safe. In the week since my transfer, I've been hit in the face with a slushie, called vulgar names, and just this morning, I was thrown into a dumpster—all of which has been ignored by the administration."

Her eyes widened. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. Principal Figgins…doesn't always make the best decisions when it comes to disciplinary matters. What can I do to help?"

That was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration. Figgins had done nothing but give Kurt and his dad the runaround ever since the first—and certainly not the last—time he attempted to report the events.

The truth was that Kurt was seriously beginning to wonder if he had made a huge mistake in coming to McKinley. It wasn't just the school—although that was certainly part of it—it was his dad and everything. It would just be so much easier if he was back at Dalton. He could ignore the fact that his father had another family—one that he might not have a place in. At Dalton, at least, he wouldn't have to face the homophobia that seemed to be second nature to the people in Lima. It would all be so easy.

Only, he had had perfectly good reasons for transferring in the first place. He had wanted to spend more time with his dad, wanted them to be a family. Of course, he hadn't counted on the homophobia or the bullying that he had encountered so far, and he certainly hadn't considered the idea of his dad creating a family of his own.

His mom's words echoed in his head: Sometimes everything will be messy and hard and nothing like what you had planned on, but that's just life. He couldn't just run back to Dalton because things hadn't turned out like he had planned.

He might not know what he could do about his dad, but he knew there was something he could do about the homophobia and bullying—at least he hoped there was.

"I would like to start a Gay-Straight Alliance at McKinley. The only way to combat ignorance that I've come across since my transfer is through education."

She nodded. "I agree. Well, the good thing is that it's a fairly easy process to start a student organization. All you need is at least two other students willing to join and a faculty advisor. Once you have those, we can just fill out the paperwork. Getting funding, on the other hand… Figgins tends to be quite tight-fisted with that, so you might have some difficulty getting him to agree to fund the club."

"That," Kurt said smoothly, "won't be a problem. About the faculty advisor, though, I was wondering if you would agree to advise the group."

Ms. Pillsbury was so shocked that she didn't answer right away. "Yes, of course, I will."

"Thanks. I'll be back when I've found two other students to join." Kurt stood up and shouldered his bag while Ms. Pillsbury wrote him a late pass. When she was finished, he ducked out of her office and headed to his first period class in a much better mood than before.

He was a man with a mission. All day long, while he should have been paying attention in his classes, he was busy jotting plans down in his notebook. He was, simply put, in his element. Not only did he think that a Gay-Straight Alliance was something that McKinley was in desperate need of, but it was an organization that he had put a lot of time and energy into at Dalton. Coordinating events with Westerville's chapter of PFLAG, volunteering for the Trevor Project, fundraising for both the Trevor Project and Make it Better with his friends, all of it had meant a lot to him. More than that, it made a difference. Not just to him, but to others as well. It would make a difference at McKinley too because, statistically speaking, it was nearly impossible for him to be the only gay person there, but if this was the way they could expect to be treated, no one else would ever take the risk of coming out.

He just needed people to join. Sam would join; Kurt knew that, so they only needed one more person. And Kurt knew just who he wanted to ask—even if it would end up being a rather painful—for him—experience considering their, albeit short, history.

Rachel Berry.

The girl who had proclaimed that she had "two gay dads" would definitely join. Not only would she join, but he was pretty sure that her dads would help out as well. Kurt didn't need much help, but he would need someone who could connect him with the closest chapter of PFLAG.

They didn't have any classes together, and since she never came to lunch—when he'd asked, the others had mumbled something about the choir room, but their terrified looks had been enough of a deterrent for him to not seek her out there, even for such a good cause—he was forced to wait until glee to talk to her.

He hadn't been surprised in the least to discover she was the first person to arrive for glee, nor was he surprised that she was talking animatedly about some song she wanted to sing with Mr. Schuester.

He waited until there was a lull in the conversation before approaching her. "Rachel, may I speak with you?"

She eyed him suspiciously but finally nodded. Mr. Schuester, looking relieved, took the opportunity to slink away from the two of them.

"I know we didn't get off to the best start, but I'm trying to start up a Gay-Straight Alliance, and I was wondering if you would be willing to help."

Her face lit up. "Yes! As the daughter of two gay dads, I am a strong supporter of gay rights. I have often thought that McKinley would benefit immensely from a Gay-Straight Alliance because ignorance is rampant here, especially in regards to the gay and lesbian community. The bigotry my dads face on a daily basis is, quite frankly, astonishing. Unfortunately, in the past, all of my attempts have been thwarted due to the need for there to be at least three students involved in any student organization. I do hope you have taken that into consideration."

Kurt just stared at her, mouth open, for several seconds. The girl had barely taken a breath during that entire speech. He ignored the majority of her speech and simply continued on as planned. "Great because I wondered if it might be possible for me to meet with your dads. I need to get connected to the closest PFLAG chapter, and I was hoping they would be willing to help."

She paused for a second. "Are you free for dinner tonight? I know it's rather short notice, but I know that typically the only night they're both free is Monday nights."

"Tonight would be perfect. I have my vocal lesson, but I should be back in Lima by seven at the latest."

"Perfect. I'll give you a detailed map to my house before the end of glee. This is just wonderful! I have so many ideas," Rachel said, practically pulling him into the empty chair beside her. She was still in the process of going into great detail about her ideas when Mr. Schuester called the club to order ten minutes later.

That was when Kurt noticed the word written on the whiteboard behind Mr. Schuester.

Duets

A smile spread across Kurt's face as Mr. Schuester explained what he had planned for the club for that week's "assignment." He may have been a bit nervous before singing last time—why, he still wasn't sure—but if there was one thing that Kurt loved it was performing, and that was just what Mr. Schuester had in mind. He wanted the group to pair up and compete against one another for a free trip to Breadstix.

Kurt knew just the thing to do, too. All he had to do was get Sam to agree to do it. He didn't really care about the trip to Breadstix. He just missed singing and choreographing for fun, and this competition was bound to be loads of fun.

When glee was over, Rachel picked up exactly where she had left off before club started. Finn gave him a curious, if somewhat relieved look, as the three of them made their way to the parking lot, Rachel talking all the while. They departed once they reached his Navigator, but not before he and Rachel exchanged cell phone numbers, and she sent him a very detailed map to her house, a map that he didn't even need because all he'd done was program her address into his GPS since he was awful at both directions and reading maps. He always managed to get himself turned around somehow. Sam said it was a gift.

After a brief stop by his house to pick up the folder where he kept all of his GSA related paperwork and information about the events that Dalton's GSA had held the previous year and to tell his dad that he was having dinner with Rachel, he made the hour's drive to Dalton.

By the time he arrived for his, he was in a much better mood. He spent the entire hour with Arthur working on "Delizie, contenti." He couldn't believe he had ever considered not doing this song. He'd never seen Giasone or listened to any of it besides that one song before choosing it, but he loved the haunted quality the song had, loved the way he sounded when he sang it, loved the violin accompaniment—he would have to get one for his official recording—loved everything about it. Arthur had definitely been right in telling him to give it a chance. He had been so absorbed in the music that he hadn't even noticed that they had gone past their allotted time until Arthur pointed it out.

Blaine was leaning against the wall across from the music room where he had his lessons, wide-eyed, when Kurt walked out the music room door.

He stopped mid-step when he saw him. "Blaine! Hi. What are you doing here?"

Blaine blushed. "I thought I would just wait for you, see how your lessons were going, but I don't need to ask. You sounded…well, to be honest, Kurt, you sounded amazing. I had no idea you could sing like that."

Now it was Kurt who blushed. "Thank you. It's a lot of hard work—learning a different technique, you know—but it's worth it, I think. And my voice is rather suited for it, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes," Blaine answered almost immediately. "I've only been to the opera once with my mom, but you just… wow."

"When the season starts up again, you should come with me. My grandparents and I have season passes, but I'm sure they wouldn't mind letting you to use one of the tickets. My grandmother hates going, so I know she'd be willing," he said, leaning against the wall beside Blaine.

"I should—"

"Do you want to go—"

They both started to speak at the same time. Kurt laughed. "You go first."

"Want to go grab some coffee and catch up? I feel like we haven't talked in forever."

"Oh," he said, frowning. "I can't. I'm starting a GSA at McKinley, and I'm meeting with Rachel and her dads to see if they would be willing to help. I'm sorry. How about…" he struggled for a minute to think of a time they could meet up. "Wednesday? Before my vocal lesson?"

Blaine sighed. "I can't. Rehearsal."

Kurt tried not to let his disappointment show. "I guess I'll just see you on Friday. Sam said he would host this week, but we have to go to his football game first. You don't mind, do you?"

"No way!" he said with a grin. "I love football, you know that. Besides, I've never seen Sam play before. It'll be fun."

"Great, well, I'll see you on Friday."

"Friday," Blaine confirmed. Then he did something that he hadn't done in a while. He pulled Kurt into a hug, holding him for longer than was strictly necessary, his breath tickling Kurt's ear. Before Kurt even had a chance to react, he was gone, disappearing down the corridor leading to the dormitories.

Kurt stood there for a moment, staring at the empty corridor until he was shaken out of his stupor by his phone alerting him to a new text message. With a sigh, he headed to his car, replying to Sam's text of: Dinner at Rachel's house, have you lost your mind? with a simple: Explain later as he went.

During the ride to Rachel's house, Kurt pointedly did not think about Blaine or his odd behavior. He had more than enough on his plate without that peculiarity to worry about. Tomorrow, if he thought of it again—most likely when, not if—he would talk to Sam about it. Instead he turned on the soundtrack for Annie, Get Your Gun and listened to that all the way back to Lima, choreographing the duet in his head as he went.

As it turned out, only one of Rachel's dads, Hiram was able to make it to dinner. Her other dad, Leroy, was a police officer and was working a different shift than normal.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel said when she met him at the door. "But Daddy will still help us. I've been telling him about our plans. He is just thrilled, and I must agree with him. It is time for McKinley to recognize their prejudice for what it is: ignorance."

Rachel led him through an immaculate hallway into the dining room where a fairly small dark-haired man was waiting for them. When he saw Kurt, he smiled widely. "You must be Kurt. Rachel's been talking about you all afternoon."

Kurt could feel his cheeks heat up. "Sorry I'm a bit late," he said. "My vocal lesson ran longer than expected."

Hiram chuckled. "No need to apologize. These things happen, believe me, I know from personal experience. If I had a quarter for every minute I used to spend waiting on Rachel after herlessons, I wouldn't have to work another day in my life. Why don't you take a seat? Dinner'll be done in a few minutes."

Kurt sat down across from Rachel, clutching his satchel in his lap.

"Who is your vocal instructor?" Rachel asked. "I've been looking around for another. My last instructor and I split due to creative differences."

He wondered what the story behind that was—no doubt there was a story—but he was almost afraid to ask. "Arthur Giordano," he replied instead.

Rachel's eyes widened slightly in surprise indicating she knew who Arthur Giordano was. Not many, outside of the classical music circuit anyway, did, so that was pretty surprising. "How is he as an instructor?"

Before Kurt could answer, however, Hiram was back, announcing that dinner was ready. No one would have been more surprised than Kurt to discover that Rachel Berry could actually be pleasant. His only explanation was that she was simply different around her family. Not only was she not as abrasive, but she didn't seem to feel the need to prove something. Conversation was light and mostly involved Rachel's school day and how it had gone. It was a familiar scenario for Kurt as it reminded him so much of the conversations that he and his mom used to have. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even realize Rachel was speaking to him until she tugged on his shirt.

"Finn says that his mom and your dad are moving in together," she said. "I think it's wonderful that they have found love."

"Wonderful," Kurt echoed weakly, a lump forming in the put of his belly. He had almost—almost—forgotten about that.

"Finn's looking forward to it. He's never had a father growing up, and spending time with your dad has obviously meant a lot to him. I'm sure you feel the same way about Carole—"

He cut her off there, as politely as he could considering the circumstances. "I'm sure that I don't. I have a mother."

Rachel looked so confused that Kurt almost felt sorry for her. "But I thought—Finn said…"

"She is dead, but that doesn't mean I need—or want—another."

There was silence for a minute, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught Hiram and Rachel exchange a look. She took a deep breath before continuing, brightly, "Well, you must be excited about gaining a brother at least. I know from personal experience that being an only child can be a very lonely existence."

Kurt suppressed a sigh. Perhaps he had spoken too soon about Rachel being pleasant. Luckily, Hiram seemed to pick up on Kurt's frustration because he changed the subject.

"Rachel says that you take ballet as well."

Kurt looked at Rachel with a note of surprise. She certainly had talked about him a great deal, hadn't she?

"Yes. Since I was four."

"I've had to stop taking lessons since I joined glee club. It's a sacrifice, of course, but one that I was willing to make. Music is my passion, and since I have no intention of pursing ballet in the future, it just seemed silly to continue." She paused and eyed Kurt shrewdly. "Do you intend to pursue a future in ballet?"

It wasn't the first time that someone had asked him directly, and just like the other times, Kurt found himself hard pressed to answer. He adored ballet—loved it—but he loved singing as well. He truly didn't want to have to choose one over the other. A tiny voice in his head told him that he had already made the decision because he hadn't even thought about applying to dance programs, but the only reason he hadn't was because he wasn't sure if he was good enough to apply.

Once again, Hiram stepped in. "He's still young, Rachel—you're both still young—no need to make that decision now. You still have plenty of time."

Rachel protested at once, and the rest of dinner was spent listening to her talk about how she fully intended to fulfill her destiny of becoming a Broadway sensation.

After the dinner dishes were cleared away, Hiram brought up the GSA.

"I think it's just great that you're starting a Gay-Straight Alliance at McKinley. I went to McKinley back when dinosaurs still roamed the earth, and believe me, it was not the friendliest place even back then, and considering the kinds of things that Rachel goes through now—whoever heard of slushies to the face?—We may have had our share of troubles back then, but what they allow to go on in schools today, well, it's just barbaric. I would be glad to help you in any way that I can."

Kurt smiled as he realized exactly where Rachel got her loquaciousness from. "I was very active in the GSA at my old school—I was the secretary both this year and the year before—so I don't need much help in the way of that from you. What I need is someone to act as our go between with PFLAG so that we can coordinate events with them."

He pulled his folder out of his satchel and slid it over to Rachel. "I brought this in case you wanted to take a look at the kinds of things we did at Dalton. I don't imagine that we'll be able to do quite the same things as I really doubt we'll have even a fraction of the student support needed, but every little bit helps"

The next few minutes was spent in a relative silence as both Rachel and Hiram looked through the folder.

"Your father must be extremely supportive of you," Hiram said, quietly, a few minutes later, looking down at a picture of Kurt and his dad alongside the other GSA member's at last year's Columbus Pride. The look on his face gave Kurt the impression that perhaps his parents hadn't been so supportive.

"He is," Kurt had to admit. Even if his dad didn't always understand him, he always supported him.

Rachel took a hold of her dad's hand before turning to Kurt. The look on her face was nearly unreadable, but something told Kurt that this right here was the real Rachel Berry. "I know that I… apologized… before, but I just wanted to apologize once more. I wasn't very welcoming at all last week, and there's no excuse for it." She paused. "I'm not always the easiest person to be around, so I don't have many friends. It just—it really means a lot to me that you're giving me the opportunity to be a part of this. I think that, if we work hard, we might really be able to make a difference."

He was so taken aback by her sincerity that he didn't speak at first. There were still things about Rachel that he didn't really care for, but he thought that, given enough time, they might one day be friends. "I hope we do."


Sam was waiting for him the next morning when he pulled into his driveway, a determined look on his face.

Both Sam and his dad had been livid when he told them about the dumpster incident, his dad especially. It had taken Kurt promising to speak to his grandfather about the escalating situation—a conversation he was not looking forward to, especially considering that he had promised his grandfather that there wouldn't be any problems at McKinley—before is dad would calm down, and even then, he said he was going to speak to Principal Figgins himself.

Kurt hadn't wanted to tell Sam at all, and he had only done so after getting Sam to promise not to do anything rash—which definitely included him not picking a fight with the much larger Karofsky. In exchange, Sam had vowed to walk Kurt back and forth to every class which wasn't the least bit ridiculous at all. Only it completely was.

"I can't believe he did that! The one day I'm not there to protect you, he pulls something like that. No way am I going to let him get away with this," Sam said the moment he had his seatbelt on.

Kurt's eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits. "We already talked about this, Sammy. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know. Not that it should be required for me to protect myself at school of all places, anyway, but… Plus, you promised not to start anything with him. Violence won't solve anything." He sighed. "And it's not like you can be with me every minute of every day."

Sam's attitude turned sulky. "Well, what am I supposed to do then? Just sit back and let him do whatever the hell he wants to do?"

"No, you can help me by joining the Gay-Straight Alliance I'm forming. I spoke with Ms. Pillsbury yesterday, and she's agreed to be the faculty adviser."

"Yeah, you know I'll join. I was in Dalton's, wasn't I? I don't think it'll help with Karofsky, but I'll join." He frowned. "Wait a minute! That's why you went to Rachel's house, wasn't it? After what she did—"

Kurt cut him off with a look. "It's in the past. She and I talked about it last night, and she gave me a proper apology. I haven't deluded myself into thinking that it is going to be easy working with her, but I do think that, out of everyone else at McKinley, this means the most to her."

At that, Sam deflated. "Yeah, okay. So, you said something about a duet competition?"

Thankful for a change in subject, Kurt smiled. "Yes! Mr. Schuester said it was to encourage camaraderie or something. Honestly, I was a bit distracted, so I wasn't paying as much attention to him as I should. I think it'll be fun though."

"You? Not paying attention? For shame!" Sam teased with a smile of his own. It was strained but there nonetheless.

"I know. You'll be my partner, right?" He gave his friend a hopeful look.

Sam groaned at the sight. "Ugh, yes, but nothing too crazy, okay? And I get final approval on costumes."

"Done and done!"

The morning dragged on at a ridiculously slow pace. The upcoming duet competition was all any of the other glee kids could talk about. Mike and Tina argued about whether or not to compete at all while Artie alternated between shooting longing glances at Tina and angry looks at Mike. All the while, Sam kept up his promise of appearing outside of every one of his classes.

"Don't even ask," he said to Artie after Sam left to go to his own second period. "I've told him that it's not necessary, but I think he blames himself for yesterday."

"Did you really charge into Principal Figgins office covered in garbage?" he asked.

"Not covered in garbage, but yes, I did."

"And before?" he asked. "When you were slushied? Tina said you went to his office still dripping with cherry slushie."

"That is true. I did. Not that it did me any good. Look, you may be used to it—Tina said you get used to it after a while, at least—but I refuse to. I shouldn't have to," Kurt hesitated and looked down at Artie. "No one should have to. The way I see it is if enough people start complaining, maybe something will change."

To that, Artie had no reply, but Kurt thought that he looked slightly impressed. He didn't understand why, really, because the entire thing should have been common sense—common decency—but obviously McKinley was low on both sense and decency.

Sam and Kurt met Rachel at the choir room during lunch, and the three of them went to Ms. Pillsbury's office. It didn't take very long for them to complete the paperwork. In fact, it took longer for them to get Rachel out of the office than the paperwork took. Before they could head back to lunch, Ms. Pillsbury asked Kurt to stay behind.

Sam looked like he was going to stay behind as well, but thankfully Rachel put a stop to that by grabbing Sam's hand and practically dragging him to the cafeteria so she could
fill him in on all of her ideas for the club.

"I won't keep you long," Ms. Pillsbury said. "One of McKinley's students was recently placed in Juvenile Hall. The judge has agreed to let him return to McKinley High with the stipulation that he perform thirty hours of community service as well along with his eighteen months of probation. Due to this particular student's behavior in the past, I think it would be beneficial for him to serve his community service working with the Gay-Straight Alliance. I just wanted to speak to you before making a formal recommendation, and make sure that you were comfortable with the idea."

"That's fine," Kurt agreed easily. He had a feeling he already knew the student in question. How many other McKinley High students could there be in Juvenile Hall? "The student wouldn't happen to be Noah Puckerman, would it?"

"Oh!" she said, surprised.

"Mr. Schuester told us last week in glee, but I met Noah before I transferred," Kurt explained.

She looked incredibly relieved. "That's great! Since you already know one another, you should have no trouble working together."

Kurt didn't know about that. They'd only spent a brief period of time together, and Noah Puckerman had been completely rude to him. Not only had he been rude to him, but then he told Rachel that Kurt knew Jesse St. James. Well, the last part could have been simply a coincidence, but still…The fact that he was ridiculously attractive was completely irrelevant.

It was.

"I look forward to it," he said.

"Great. We'll speak again once everything has been finalized."

Kurt nodded and hurried out of the office, his mind buzzing with thoughts that had absolutely nothing to do with either Noah Puckerman or Blaine Anderson.