Finn offered Kurt a small smile as his head peered around his bedroom door. "Nice nap?" he asked, as he eased his chair back from his desk.

"You were with me when I fell asleep," Kurt groused, and Finn found himself chuckling at the slight pout that crossed his face.

"Sorry, lil bro," he responded as Kurt dropped down onto his bed with a yawn. "I figured you'd be out for a few hours so I came here to do some work."

"My room has a desk," Kurt grumbled as he walked in fully.

"I think loudly."

Kurt huffed at his response before dropping down onto the bed, only to yawn seconds later. "I hate those pills," Kurt complained. "How long do I have to take them for?"

"Until they decide otherwise," Finn said mildly.

Kurt shot him an irritated look, and Finn turned away, not wanting any trace of his amusement to shine through. Kurt in the aftermath of his medication was very open with his emotions, probably because it lowered his inhibitions. While, as was the case yesterday, it led to Kurt becoming morose, right now he seemed to just be a bit childish and churlish, which was sort of cute in its own way.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked after a moment, and glancing back at him, Finn saw that his annoyed face seemed to have cleared away.

"I'm working on an essay," he explained, tapping his History book, "about the Industrial Revolution."

Kurt cocked his head for a moment, "Do I have work I should be doing?" he inquired, and Finn hesitated, because truthfully, he didn't know how to answer that.

"I don't think so," he responded carefully, "this stuff is just for my classes."

"Oh," Kurt stated simply, his mouth twisting for a moment before he said, "I start physical therapy tomorrow."

"I know," he responded, "nervous?"

"What's going to happen?" he asked, "doesn't that usually involve doing…stuff? This can't do anything," he added, giving his right arm a self-depreciating flick.

"I really don't know," Finn admitted, "I remember back when I broke my arm I had some exercises and stuff to do after I got the cast off but I don't think that'd work in this case."

"Because I'm actually supposed to have the ability to do something?" Kurt asked in a sort of dry tone that had Finn feeling a bit sheepish. "Anyway," Kurt said, "I guess Mrs. Smith teaches your class out of order because I already did the Industrial Rev. Want my notes?"

"Yeah, sure, thanks," Finn said, allowing the change of topic. It was a bit weird to gauge his mood at times, but in moments like this, as Kurt sort of stomped out, Finn had learnt to just go along with it. He wouldn't say that he was walking on eggshells around him, but he was actively trying to keep him from slipping into one of his darker moods. Sometimes they would encounter a topic or situation that he and his parents would believe would disturb Kurt, only for it to illicit nothing more than a shrug or noncommittal response from him, but other things, random things, could leave him morose or at times, angry. There had been no panic attack since that first day, but Finn was pretty certain that it was something on all of their minds.

None of them wanted a repeat of that.

If the frustration bleeding off Kurt's frame was anything to go by, it was clear that his first physical therapy session had not at all gone well. Finn looked up from his textbook from his spot at the kitchen counter as Kurt stomped past, heading for the stairs.

"Take your time bud," Burt called out, seemingly in vain because seconds later Finn heard a distinctive thump that was becoming all too familiar. He made to rise, but Burt was already hurrying past, raising a staying hand to him. Sighing, Finn settled back down, only half listening to Burt's reassuring words as he undoubtedly helped Kurt up and Kurt's own harsher replies before finally the duo made their way up the stairs. It wasn't until the first time that Kurt, seemingly not paying attention to his body, ended up on the floor. It seemed odd the first time it had happened, but, as his mother explained to him, Kurt had to re-learn how to control his body in its entirety. The loss of feeling in his arm meant that his body was instinctively adjusting to a limb it had 'lost'. In doing so, Kurt's perception of himself would take a few days to acclimatise to the new normal, and that new normal in this case meant learning how to navigate stairs and such quickly without the benefit of his arm to steady him.

Shaking his head, Finn forced himself back into the world of plate tectonics. Thankfully, he thought as he highlighted a bit of text, studying properly really was a lot like riding a bike. His brain remembered how to do it, and now that he was actively utilising his old techniques, he was getting back into the swing of things. Finn would honestly not be surprised if, by the time he submitted all of his work, he would find a big difference in his grades.

"Kurt's settled in for now," Burt said a while later, as he walked into the kitchen, heading for the fridge. "How's your work coming along, son?"

"Pretty good," he replied, looking up. "I've started studying for the quizzes I'm doing this weekend. I think I'll do well."

Burt shot him a proud smile. "Good job Finn." Burt leant against the kitchen corner, sipping on a glass of juice for a moment before saying, "There's something your mom and I want to talk to you about later."

"About Dalton?" Finn guessed, before grinning slightly when the man shot him a surprised look.

"How do you know about that?"

"You guys left the stuff down on the counter," Finn answered. "I came down for a late snack and saw it."

Burt looked chagrined for a moment. "Yeah," he told him, "that's what we want to talk to you about. But since you already know, any thoughts so far?"

Finn was silent for a moment, drumming his fingers against the table as he gathered his thoughts. "I read through the list you guys had made...their sports department isn't that great."

"And sports mean a lot to you," Burt acknowledged.

Finn nodded. The school was a fancy one, there was no way around that, and their offerings correlated to that. There was basketball yes, but no American football. There was soccer, lacrosse, tennis, swimming, dance and even martial arts among others. Not that they were bad endeavours by any stretch, but Finn loved football, it was the first sport he had ever tried, and while McKinley's team was far from being great, he enjoyed playing.

"I don't think we should go," Finn told him, "Kurt shouldn't be there."

"Why not?" Burt asked, and Finn noted that the man wasn't at all judgemental about it; he genuinely wanted to know his thoughts on the matter.

"It's a new place, full of new people - all of who are guys. Kurt...don't you think he needs stability right now? He should be here, with us, where he can be comfortable. There are other options like online schooling. He could do that, we could do that."

"But you would be with him at Dalton, and don't you think that homeschooling would be a bit boring after a while?"

"Is mom really going to take me out of McKinley too?"

"We haven't decided yet son," Burt told him honestly, setting aside the glass before taking a seat at the table. "It's why we made the deal with the school for you to finish this semester at home, just in case. We're keeping an eye on what's happening, and yes, with Figgins gone, things really do seem to be changing, and for the better. What we're really considering is if you'd be comfortable returning to the school once again. That's out of the question for Kurt," Burt stated and Finn nodded, recalling how Kurt had paled the night before when Finn (rather unthinkingly to be fair) had asked him if he wanted to go with him and Carole to collect his latest batch of assignments.

"I think I would be fine," Finn answered carefully. "I must be you know? The therapist only carded me for one more week of sessions."

"Whereas Kurt's file has an infinity sign in it," Burt said, and Finn, despite himself chuckled at the man's dark humour.

"If you really want Kurt to go to Dalton, I'll go too," Finn said, "but only if we're together all the time."

Burt reached out and clasped the teenager's shoulder. "Son, I know how you feel, and I know how you think, but the reason why we're considering if to send you to Dalton isn't just because we want Kurt not to be alone you know. We want what is best for the both of you, and like I said earlier, I know how important football is to you."

Finn swallowed. "I'd give it up for him."

"This isn't about sacrificing Finn," Burt told him gently, "this is an adjustment curve for all of us, but we're going to find a system that works for all of us. So please, think about the options, and decide what you think is best for you. This is a decision we're all going to make together, and we'll see how it meshes in the end. Carole and I haven't given much thought to online schooling as an option so far, but now I know that that's a next avenue we can look at. What I want for you to do is to think about yourself, the pros and cons for each. McKinley, Dalton or home school. We have a few more days before we really do need to make a decision, so you'll let us know, okay?"

"And Kurt?" Finn couldn't help but ask, "what options are you going to give him?"

"Home or Dalton," Burt answered, "the only way I'd let him walk back through McKinley's doors is if I'm next to him for every second of the day."

Finn smiled at that, but nodded regardless. He really did have some thinking to, he acknowledged. He would make the decision that was best for him and Kurt.

Kurt's mood was still off when he came into the kitchen a few hours later, but he was amiable enough to assist Finn when needed with an English essay he had now turned his attention to. Occasionally his comments were a little too much on the snide side, but Finn took it in stride easily. It was nice to hear Kurt's snark, even if it came from his temper rather than from his innate self.

"Why don't you just respond?" Kurt said after the third time within a few minutes that Finn's phone whistled. "It's probably important."

Finn shook his hand dismissively. "It's just Rachel," he responded, "I can do without her complaining about not having a duet partner and not going out for a bit."

"Oh," Kurt said, before turning his attention back to Finn's draft. He was silent for nearly five minutes save for occasionally tapping on a word that needed its spelling fixed before starting to speak, hesitantly, saying, "Why don't you...go out with her? You've been working a lot, and you've hardly left the house. It might be nice."

"I'm where I want to be," Finn said simply, reaching over to nudge his arm affectionately. "Rachel will be fine without me for a while."

"You sure?" Kurt asked, glancing up at him briefly.

"I am," Finn reassured him.

"Because you can if you want," Kurt told him, "I-I'm not an invalid. I can stay by myself."

"I never said you were," Finn replied gently. "Don't worry about it."

"I can do things you know," Kurt half-snapped, his expression darkening, "I don't need anyone to babysit me."

"Hey now," Finn began, surprised, "I never said-"

"You don't need to accommodate me Finn," Kurt interrupted, "you can go out with Rachel, with all of them. You should go. Just leave me here, I'll be fine."

"Dude," Finn said, "where is this coming from?"

"I can see it on your face," Kurt said, his voice warbling a bit now, even as he continued speaking. In his eyes, in addition to the tumultuous emotions rising within them, Finn saw a hint of confusion; it was as if Kurt wasn't even really sure why he was becoming so upset about this, but it wasn't enough to dissuade him from continuing to speak. "You think I'm to be pitied, don't you? You think I can't be left home by myself. Well I can be, you know! You don't have to sit around wasting time on me like this. So why don't you go? I-I don't need you. I can do it all on my own."

"I know that you could do anything if you really wanted to Kurt," Finn said gently, trying to soothe him, "things are just a bit different for now, but you can do it."

"Exactly!" Kurt snapped, rising, "You don't need to baby me, nobody needs to baby me. I'm fine. I-I'm normal, perfectly normal. So why don't you just go, huh? Go back to school, back to Rachel, back to them. I don't need you here with me. I'm fine, great!"

"Kurt," Finn began, standing as well, "I need you to calm down for me, okay?"

"I don't need to calm down, I just need for you to get on with your life. Don't stop yours because I-I didn't mean that. I'm normal, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm normal."

"Kurt-"

"No don't touch me!" Kurt shouted as Finn made to reach for him, "stay away from me!"

Kurt turned, stumbled a bit before hurrying out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. Finn followed, but only stood at the bottom watching to ensure that Kurt made it to the top safely.

He wasn't too sure exactly what the hell had just happened, or where Kurt's sudden anger had come from, but, for now, he decided, it was probably just best to leave him on his own for a bit; hopefully he could sort out the confusion in his head.

Kurt wasn't sure exactly how much time he had spent curled up on the window seat in his room. It had to be at least an hour he thought, given the ache in his back from being hunched over for far too much time, but still, he couldn't bring himself to move. His nose itched, and reaching up, Kurt brushed a stray tear that had someone made its way onto his nose. He didn't know what was happening to him, why he was acting like this. He hadn't meant to yell at Finn like that, he didn't even know why he had gotten as upset as he had. Finn hadn't done anything, and yet he had gotten so mad and had yelled at him in a way that Finn didn't deserve. He had hurt him, he knew it. He would have followed him up if he wasn't upset by what he had done.

Kurt sniffed as he straightened, allowing his head to rock back against the side of the wall. He reached over and picked up his arm which had just been flopping there and dropped it into his lap. He had lied to Finn; he knew he wasn't at all normal, not anymore. Maybe he had never been? He supposed now he was even more abnormal. Kurt sniffed again and wiped away a tear. He didn't know how he had any left; he couldn't remember the last time he had cried that much. He didn't understand how it worked, how he could go from being genuinely curious about why Finn wasn't responding to his phone, to him yelling at him, and then, minutes later, dissolving into tears. What was wrong with him?

He was startled from his thoughts by a light knock on his door. He didn't bother to respond, and, seconds later, the door crept open and he saw Carole there. Right, he thought absentmindedly, he had heard a car door close a few minutes before. She had a concerned expression on her face, and Kurt opened his mouth to say something, anything to her, but the only thing that passed his lips was a sob before he bent his head. She was across the room in seconds, and Kurt submitted easily, allowing her to shift him around so she could fit there as well before pulling him into her arms. Kurt cried anew, taking comfort from the way her hand rubbed at the back of his neck and occasionally reaching up to play at the ends of his hair. She didn't speak, just hummed in a soft way that told Kurt where exactly Finn had gotten his singing voice from.

Eventually Kurt's tears slowed, and, reluctantly he pulled back. He didn't know where she pulled a handkerchief from, but he remained passive as she gently brushed away the moisture from his face.

"I was wondering when this would happen," she said softly as she patted his skin. "I expected it sooner honestly."

"You expected me to cry?" Kurt asked, his voice croaking.

"I expected you to break down," she corrected, "and yes, crying is a part of that."

"I yelled at Finn," he admitted sorrowfully.

"I know," she answered, "but that's okay."

"It isn't. He'll never forgive me."

"He will," she rebutted, bopping his nose with a finger before pocketing the handkerchief again. "He's not at all mad at you, Kurt. He just didn't know what to do."

"Why did I do that?" Kurt asked her.

Carole sighed. "You've gone through a very traumatic experience Kurt," she explained slowly, "and you're still dealing with the results of that. In such cases it's pretty normal for people's emotions and ability to control such emotions to change...worsen if you will. And that's what's happening. It's scary, I know, but it's not your fault. You just need to relearn control of it, and that's what the therapy sessions and to a latter extent the medication is for."

"Should I have taken something?" he asked, "I didn't."

"Not necessarily," she said, "your medication isn't to stop you from reacting or feeling anything. It's there to prevent you from panicking or else slipping too deep down into...sadness. But dealing with your emotions is also quite healthy, and unless you're feeling overwhelmed by what is within you right now, or feel like you can't climb out of it, you don't need to take anything outside of your regular dosage later on today."

Kurt nodded. "I feel helpless, Carole," he admitted. "I-I can't even put on a tee-shirt by myself. I-"

"Tell me," she pressed gently, "Talking helps. Tell me."

"It's weird," Kurt said, "and it makes me...panicky. My arm's like a noodle...I'd have to hold it and p-push it into the sleeve because it's useless, and I-I can't, Carole I-"

Carole reached out and grasped has both arms, "Breathe Kurt," she bid, "breathe."

It was only at her directive that Kurt realised that his breathing had started to grow spotty- it was audible to his own ears. He forced himself to slow his breathing, and a minute or so later, Carole released him.

"Sorry."

"No apologies," she told him, cupping his face. "This is all a part of the process. We can take things one step at a time. There's no rush. Maybe in a week you'll feel okay to try a shirt by yourself."

"I can't button jeans," he bemoaned.

Carole sat back, a small smile playing at her lips despite his morose tone. "Have you tried?" she asked.

"What?"

"Have you tried?"

"No," he admitted, "I've just been wearing Finn's sweatpants. Don't tell him."

"I think it's fairly obvious Kurt," she teased glancing down at the pants Kurt was all but swimming in. The bottoms of them were haphazardly rolled up. It was a credit to her older son that he had not teased Kurt about it as yet. "Finn's arm was out of commission for a few weeks once."

"He mentioned it."

"Do you think he never wore jeans for that time?"

"You buttoned it?"

"No, I think he would have died from the embarrassment. He figured it out though. It's not easy, and it takes some effort, and maybe you shouldn't start with the tightest pair, but I think you can do it."

"You think so?" Kurt asked, a bit doubtful.

"I know so Kurt," she said. "Now," she added, rising, "I know one boy in this house who has not had lunch. How about you freshen up a bit and come down hmm? I'll make you grilled cheese," she added cajolingly.

Despite himself, Kurt smiled a bit. "Tomato soup?" he asked, almost hesitantly.

"Anything you want, my boy," she responded, reaching out to ruffle his hair for a moment before standing, and, giving him a brief kiss to the forehead, walked out the room.

Kurt felt a bit lighter now, and while he dreaded facing Finn again, he was a bit hopeful that he had not ruined everything between them.

This was beginning to be a habit, Finn thought with some amusement as he sat up to Kurt beside him. At least this time he had just gotten under the covers, Finn thought as he took his phone from under his pillow to check at the time. Nearly five he saw. He had been sleeping for a while. Finn hadn't known what the best route to take once Kurt had stormed off from him was, and so, after standing outside of his door for a while just to ensure that he wasn't hearing any sounds that were worrisome, he had gone to his room for a bit. Knowing his mom's schedule, he had caught her just a few minutes after her morning shift had ended, and upon her advice had just decided to relax and let everything unfold as it was meant to. That, apparently, had led to a nearly four hour nap he acknowledged, as he eased himself off the bed, before stretching.

Scratching absently at his stomach he crossed the room, only to stop short as he saw a covered plate on his table. Curious he uncovered it, only to smile as he saw three poptarts there, not toasted. Now that was a Kurt move, he thought, and looking back shot him a grateful look as he bit into one. He really was hungry. Dropping down into his chair, he eyed the younger teen contemplatively while chewing on his snack. He didn't at all hold what had happened against Kurt, but he was starting to think that maybe Kurt being in the house for days on end was not exactly the best thing for him. He needed a break, hell, he amended, they both did. Going back and forth from the house to various forms of therapy just wasn't cutting it.

Tomorrow, Finn decided, a playful smile crossing his face. He turned, and waking his laptop, pulled up a search engine. Lima was definitely out, but he could see what he could make happen for them.