A/N: Part 2! Enjoy! Hope you guys like it!

That night, Kurt was on the warpath. Brittany and Santana could feel his anger bubbling as he met them, both having probed his mind and, with his permission, found out the situation. Santana was the first to try and talk to him. "Kurt-!"

"Don't." Kurt cut across her harshly. "Just this once San. Just...don't." He finished. "I spent years refusing to believe that man was a father to me. I spent years denying it despite all he did for me and now he's lying in a hospital bed and I could lose the only real father figure I've ever had. So just don't say anything." He spat. "Right now, I'm in the mood to hurt something. And last I checked, there are still a couple of rogue bandits in the area. So, I'm going to beat the living daylights out of them, and then I'm going home and I am going to pray to every God I know that he wakes up." He finished.

"Kurt...it's going to be okay." Brittany promised.

Kurt just stalked off ahead, angry and brooding. "You can't know that." He tossed back at them, voice dark and growling.

The girls looked at each other, feeling a sinking sensation in their stomach as Kurt came across the first of the bandits and unleashed his fury and pent up frustration on it, cold and precise as he abandoned all weapons and instead chose to beat the enemy to death using only his fists and feet alone. They didn't say anything as they scoped out the second rogue as he also pummelled the opponent- this one a vampire-leopard hybrid- into oblivion.

They didn't say a word because they knew he'd been right. They didn't know if Burt would make it.

And they were just as scared as Kurt.

Kurt struggled through the next day, Zendric trying to help by cheeping in his ear but doing nothing to lift his mood. But by the time Glee came around he'd taken to hiding in the choir room in brooding silence, going over his memories with Burt and shutting out the girls who respectfully retreated out of his head, understanding his need to be alone, whilst his little blue jay rested on his shoulder. With the memories of Burt came memories of his father, bitterness welling up inside Kurt as he realised Burt, a human man who had no true obligations to him, had been a better father than his biological one. The moment of realisation had him running to the bathroom to throw up before returning to go mourn in the empty room.

The bell rang and Glee started up. Kurt stood as Tina approached, wrapping her arms around him in a silent hug as he rested his head on her shoulder, his little friend diving into his jacket. Quinn patted his shoulder sympathetically until Brittany and Santana approached him.

"Hey Kurt." Santana greeted. "We're...really sorry about your Dad's heart attack." She apologised, eyes conveying her deeper sorrows to him.

"Thanks Santana." Kurt whispered, knowing she'd understand the hidden message.

Brittany then pulled something from her binder. "I did a book report on heart attacks if you want to give it to the doctor." She handed him the bound papers. "I got knocked down an entire letter grade because it was written in crayon." She whispered.

"What the hell happened?" Finn demanded without preamble as he strode in.

"My Dad's in the hospital." Kurt whispered.

"I know my mom just called me. I feel like I'm the last one to know!" He accused angrily.

Kurt felt his own temper flare. "Well I'm sorry Finn but it didn't occur to me to call you because he's not your father."

"Well he's the closest I'm ever going to get." Finn spat. "Look, I know it may not look like what everybody else has but I thought we were sort of...a family." He finished, voice going soft. Kurt looked at him in a mixture of sadness, numbness, alongside his underlying anger and horror and Finn recoiled somewhat. "I guess I just didn't like overhearing other people talking about it in gym class." He apologised. Kurt silently sat back down, moving his satchel- containing his daggers that he constantly carried- and let Finn sit beside him.

Mr. Schue entered. "Hey, our thoughts are all with Kurt," He began, Kurt wagging his finger at Finn as he tried to rub his shoulder, the other boy retracting his hand instantly as Santana fought down a smile.

Even when grieving, Kurt still knew he was royalty.

"And I know it's really hard to focus on anything else-!"

"Mr. Schue?" Mercedes cut across softly. Mr. Schue prompted her with a nod. "I've been struggling to figure out what I want to say to Kurt all day," She began, Kurt looking down awkwardly as Santana and Brittany sent gentle waves of sympathy towards him, Zendric nuzzling his chest with his beak. "And I realise I don't want to say it, I want to sing it." She explained. Mr. Schuester waved her forwards and she stepped up, holding her sheet music for the pianist. "This song is about being in a very dark place and turning to God." She told the group. "I know it's a spiritual song so... is that okay Mr. Schue?" She checked.

Bitch. Maybe she should ask if it's okay with Kurt. Santana thought over to Brittany, opening her mouth to argue.

She's only trying to help San. Even if it's misguided, her heart's in the right place. Brittany placated her, placing a calming hand on her thigh whilst maintaining a vacant expression.

I know. It's just...Burt's the only parental figure Kurt's ever really had. His father's okay but he's a King, not a proper father. It's like...the King's his father, but Burt's his Dad. I just don't want him hurting any more than necessary. Santana explained.

I know, and I don't want it either. But we can't intervene with an honest attempt to help. If he's hurting, then we can step in. Brittany promised, a reluctant agreement seeping over from Santana.

Mercedes began singing, and they watched Kurt intently as tears began to form in his eyes, Santana spotting the physical evidence and Brittany picking up on the emotion. They stayed silent and still, watching and waiting. The song was beautiful, no one could disagree with that, and they all let it wash over them, Mercedes' voice filling the room until the dying notes faded away.

"Thank you Mercedes." Kurt whispered. "Your voice is beautiful. But I don't believe in God." He admitted.

"Wait, what?" Tina asked as she went back to her chair.

"You've all professed your beliefs and I'm just stating mine." He defended, turning to them all. "I think that God is just Santa Claus for adults." He countered bluntly. "I mean, God's kind of a jerk, isn't he? I mean, he makes me gay and then has his followers going around telling me it's something I 'chose'. As if someone would choose to mocked every single day of their life." He reasoned bitterly. "Right now? I don't want this...heavenly father. I just want my real Dad back." He confessed.

Santana's eyes grew sad at his wording.

"But Kurt, how do you know for sure? I mean, you can't prove there isn't a God." Mercedes whispered softly.

"You can't prove there isn't a magic teapot floating around on the dark side of the moon with a dwarf inside of it that shoots...lightning out of its boobs!" He snapped. "But, it seems pretty unlikely, doesn't it?" He countered.

"We shouldn't be talking like this!" Quinn shouted. "It's not right." She spat, glowering at Kurt.

Kurt stood. "I'm sorry Quinn. You can all believe whatever you want to, but I can't believe in something I don't." He told the whole club softly. "I appreciate your thoughts. But I don't want your prayers." He requested, turning and leaving the room as he wiped tears from his eyes.

"Well, he's certainly going straight to Hell." Quinn quipped.

"Oh would you shut it!" Santana snapped, standing up and taking them all by surprise. "You know what; I'm really starting to think this is just a club for hypocrites rather than a club for music." She spat. "All of you have professed your belief in God and how much you love the big guy, and did Kurt ever say a bad word against it? Did he ever stop you?" She demanded, moving to stand in front of them. "Answer: No, he didn't. He made one comment on it. Just one, telling you quite calmly he doesn't believe in God and no one really paid any attention and then, when he reiterates his beliefs you all look at him like a freaking leper!" She spat. The club shifted. "And you, miss high and mighty," Santana went on, rounding on Quinn. "How about you show the world you're even more of a heartless bitch than you've already proved?"

"Like you're one to talk." Quinn snarled.

"Actually, yes I am!" Santana shouted, cowing the other girl. "I'm a bitch, but you know what? I'm a bitch that actually cares about people's feelings. As much as I despise most people- and right now I want nothing more than to go all Lima Heights on all of you- I won't kick someone who's hurting. Not someone who's hurting like Kurt. I will defend people I care about, even if I make snide comments because I don't really mean them. So listen up, Fabray," She sneered in Quinn's face. "I'm a huge, colossal atheist, just like Kurt. I don't give a damn about the big guy supposedly sitting on a cloud but I've stayed quiet just like Kurt. So maybe, just maybe, when someone expresses a different belief other than your supposedly perfect and utterly infallible ones? How about you shut up and let them believe what they want, just like they let you believe what you want." She finished, chest heaving. Straightening up, the cheerleader went to grab Brittany's hand and walked out after Kurt, leaving the rest of the Club in stunned silence.

When Sue had heard about Kurt's dad, she didn't know what to think.

For once, she left Cheerios practice in Quinn's hand, going home and hugging her sister tight. The thought of losing Jean ate away at her, the idea gut wrenching and something she vehemently pushed down into the recesses of her mind. She couldn't help but remember the night when the young, supposedly weak boy had appeared out of nowhere and defended her and her sister, saving her life and the life of the one person she loved above all others.

And now he might lose his father.

Sue wasn't sure how she should feel about that. Kurt, the selfless boy who'd let himself be beaten up and taken the blows meant for her and her sister, was now running the risk of losing the only real family he had left. A feeling Sue never hoped to endure. But even in her supposedly shallow and cold heart, she could feel some warmth for the boy and, although she'd never admit it, she was sorry the boy was feeling so much pain.

So when she overheard him talk about how he didn't want prayers, she knew what she needed to do. But first, she went after him.

"Lady Hummel!" She shouted through her megaphone as he turned to look at her. His expression showed a weariness that should never be seen on the face of someone so young. "My office." She demanded.

"Now?" Kurt asked tiredly. She nodded and he bowed his head, silently walking towards the trophy-littered room. He flopped into a chair. "Am I in trouble for spreading fairy dust and letting it get up your nose?" He asked dryly.

"Actually, no." Sue admitted. "I for one find fairy dust is good for my skin, so keep up the good work." She corrected, pouring a cup of strong coffee. "Here." She offered, watching him take it, take a sip- and she couldn't help but admire the way he didn't even flinch at the powerful taste- before staring into the dark liquid. "How are you doing Kurt?" She asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know what I mean." Sue shot back, face soft in a way that she rarely let anyone see. "How are you holding up?"

"...I'm holding." Kurt settled on, eyes still fixed on the coffee.

The word 'barely' hung in the air around them.

"You know Kurt, I never did thank you for what you did." Sue admitted. Kurt looked up, confused. "That day in the park? You saved the life of the one person I love above all else in the world, and what's more, you went back and made sure that whoever was out there couldn't harm anyone." Sue smiled. "What you did is something I will always remember. You saved Jean. And that means that I like you." She told the boy.

Kurt shrugged. "It was the right thing to do."

"But you didn't have to do it." Sue countered. "Anyone could see it was a risk, but you took it and I will always be grateful that you did. And I'm sorry that you're going through this." She apologised sincerely. Walking around the desk, she crouched beside him as his head lowered again. "I'm not going to baby you about it, mainly because I know you're probably sick of it and want to punch everyone in the face for treating you like glass." She tilted her head. "But what I want to say is if you need someone to scream at, to cry on, or just to hold you," Sue gently put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm here."

"Thank you." Kurt whispered, meeting her eyes gratefully. "Just...please don't pray for him."

"I won't." She swore.

"Thanks." Kurt stood and forced a wavering smile onto his face. "It means a lot that you care."

"Yeah, well, don't go shouting it about. It's only about you I give a damn. I don't want the other idiots roaming the corridors to get any ideas about me going soft on them." She reasoned.

At that, a true smile did cross Kurt's lips as he began walking out. "Your secret's safe with me." He promised. And then he was gone.

Sue sighed, leaning back in her chair. She stayed like that for a while before getting up and striding out, snarling at a couple of students on her way.

She needed to talk to Principal Figgins.

"Kurt, a word?" Kurt paused and looked over to see Sue beckoning him forwards. He went willingly, surprising some students as he was accepted into the office. Once they were away from prying eyes Sue rubbed his back sympathetically before peering through the blinds of her office to ensure no one was watching them. "How's your father?"

"They say he's critical, but stable." Kurt murmured. He found it hard to speak in anything louder than whispers since his Dad went into hospital. "Good news, I guess." He whispered.

"I'm sorry for what you're going through." She apologised. "I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. Then again, I guess I don't have to, I think Mary Lou Rattan is like an orphan or something." She dismissed. Kurt stared at her in blank confusion so she got down to business. "I don't like what Schuester's doing in that classroom even more than usual. But I can't go to the school board without an official complaint from a student." She hinted.

Kurt caught on instantly. "Let me guess: You want me to be your scapegoat in order to get what you want?" He asked bluntly, eyes a little dead.

"No, you misunderstand me Porcelain." She shook her head and sat down by his side. "I know at times I mess around with you guys for fun, I admit, it aids digestion." She shrugged. "But it's not you I hate, just that damn club." A faint smile lit up her eyes though her lips never twitched. "You saved Jean, remember? Kind of makes it impossible to hate you." She reminded him. "But I'm not joking here." She promised. "I want to be your champion." She assured Kurt.

Kurt sat, thinking about it for a while.

Then he made his decision.

Kurt hated them all.

He hated Santana for taking away his daggers.

He hated Brittany for trying to forcibly change his mood.

He hated his King for sending him to this gods-forsaken rock in the first place.

And he hated this entire world for taking one of the few people he cared about away from him.

So he wasn't too bothered when the others all sided against him, or when Mr. Schue made them stop, or when the club kept sending him dirty looks in the corridors, or the taunts hurled at him by jocks. All he was bothered about were the hours he could spend at his Dad's side. Hours alone where he poured out each secret he'd been carrying, each apology he'd always wanted to make, he poured out his heart and his soul to his father and begged him to wake up, crying into his pillow each time his pleas went unanswered.

But when they defied his wishes to keep religion out of his Dad's hospital room, he got bothered.

"What's going on in here?" He demanded tearfully, bursting in the moment Rachel finished...whatever she'd been doing.

"We-we were just praying for your Dad." She whispered, her brown eyes wide and innocent.

"Rachel, Quinn and I are taking turns. We're from different denominations and religions so we figured one of us is bound to be right." Mercedes took over.

"I didn't ask you to do this." He whispered, feeling his anger build.

"Honey, I know you're upset about what's happening, I get it," Carole tried from her position at Burt's side. "But...friends help out even when you don't ask."

"Mr. Kurt Hummel?" A new voice asked. Kurt looked down to see a black woman in a turban by his side.

"Dude, why didn't you tell us you wanted to pray in Muslim?" Finn asked, and Kurt squinted at him in disbelief.

The woman eyed Finn. "I'm not a Muslim, I'm a Sikh." She corrected.

"She's going to see if acupuncture will improve the circulation of my Dad's brain." Kurt whispered. "Amazingly, needles pierce the skin better than songs." He commented dryly. The people gathered were silent. "Can you all please leave now?" He requested. The group silently got up and headed for the door.

"We were only trying to help." Rachel whispered on her way past. Kurt ignored her. Once they were gone he blew out the candle and took his seat by his father's bedside, waiting.

Twenty minutes later, Carole came back in. "Kurt...please," She begged. Kurt blanked her, a skill he was getting good at. "Kurt, listen honey." She pleaded. "Your friends just want to help-!"

"No. They want to interfere." Kurt snapped. "They want to take what I said and prove me wrong despite the fact my Dad lying in a coma and I could possibly lose the only man who has ever really given a damn about me, so don't start preaching about how they only wanted to help." He spat.

"Kurt," Carole looked sad. "I-I know you must be hurting but..."

"Do you?" Kurt demanded, turning on the woman with wide, angry eyes that shone with tears. Outside, Sue crept up and watched as Kurt laid into the other woman furiously. "Do you know what it's like; feeling like your heart has been ripped from your chest? Do you know what it's like to wake up each morning and desperately hope that today's not the day you become an orphan? Do you know what it's like spending every moment terrified you'll lose one of the only family you've ever had, blood or not? Do you know what it's like to tell someone one thing, to give an explicit request as one of the few things you've ever asked of those people and have them completely override it because they just want to do what they want?" He demanded, getting louder and louder. Carole was frozen, unable to speak. "Well?" Kurt roared.

"N-No."

"No, you don't. So don't you dare say that you know how I feel, because you don't. And you never will. And as much as I appreciate how much you love my Dad, I promise you this Mrs. Hudson; you will never love him in the way I do." He vowed. "And right now, I could be losing him so I'd appreciate if you stopped going around making assumptions." He declared, slumping back into his seat.

"Kurt-!"

"I think you should leave." He requested icily. Carole didn't move. "Now." He barked.

"Mrs. Hudson?" Sue called from the door. Kurt didn't blink. "I think you should do as he asks. Don't you?" She reasoned gently. Carole nodded and got up, trying not to look hurt when Kurt flinched away as she reached out. Once the other woman was gone, Sue sat down. "Feel better for shouting?"

"Much." Kurt sniffed. Sue just sat there, watching him carefully as his shoulders started to shake. Then she went and put an arm around him. "It's not fair." Kurt sniffed, watching his Dad with wide, terrified eyes. "It's just not fair."

"I know." Sue agreed softly, holding the shaking boy as he cried silently. "It really isn't."

Kurt was just going through the motions after a while.

He brushed off Sue's concern as things steadily got more and more hopeless for his Dad and ignored the Glee club as much as he could. He didn't eat, he could barely stomach anything at all, so he spent all of his lunch hour down at the hospital instead. He'd run there if he couldn't make it in time by car. He knew he was being reckless but he couldn't help it. In the evenings he'd change out of his clothes and spend his time in the forest with Zendric, letting the feel of the trees and leaves soothe him as he spoke to the bird about his fears. He barely slept anymore, flitting into his house in time to dress and get ready for school. Kurt was numb, constantly fearful to the point he didn't know how to feel anything else, eyes cold and dead to those around him as he drifted.

His Dad was ill. His real Dad was leaving him. And Kurt had no idea how to cope with that.

So when he came home after a long day at the hospital, emotions frayed and heart weak from the emotional turmoil he was currently experiencing, it was a shock finding Finn and Carole there. He knew he should have apologised to the woman for his brutal words, but he just couldn't find it in himself to be sorry. Everything was too numb or too painful to even think of giving an apology.

"What are you doing here?" He asked hoarsely.

Carole exchanged a nervous look with her son. "Kurt, Finn told me you weren't doing so well."

Kurt tipped his chin up with pride. "How I'm doing is none of your concern. So I'm going to be nice and ask you both to please leave my house." He requested calmly, despite his rage bubbling beneath his skin.

"Dude, we're just trying to help..." Finn mumbled.

"Yeah, well maybe if I wanted your help I'd ask for it!" Kurt spat. Without his knowledge, the lights began to flicker above his head, clouds gathering in the sky in rapid time. "Maybe you should wait a while and see if I want you here and I want your help rather than barging in and just doing whatever you damn well please!" He spat.

Finn felt a little of his own anger beginning to rise up, but could see it was nothing compared to Kurt's rage. "Kurt-!"

"No!" Kurt screamed. "I have been quiet, I have let you all walk all over me in your 'attempts' to cheer me up and help my Dad but right now I-!" Kurt cut off, choking as he finally registered what was going on.

It wasn't his anger bubbling under his skin.

"Kurt, what's-?" Carole began as Kurt bolted through the kitchen and out of the back door. "Kurt!" She called out, yelping as a clap of thunder came out of nowhere at the same time Kurt landed on the other side of his garden fence, streaking away as rain started pouring down.

Kurt ran, rain plastering his hair to his forehead as he felt his body rebelling against him. He raced into the nearby forest, leaping over branches and stumbling through the trees desperately. "Not yet, please, please, not yet..." He mumbled frantically as he fell through an opening into a small clearing. He opened up the connection and sent out a desperate plea.

In her bedroom in Lima Heights, Santana Lopez bolted upright in her bed, a familiar voice ringing through her head with desperation and fear layered through the frantic shout echoing in her mind.

HELP ME.

Brittany Pierce was walking through a Cheerios routine when she heard the pained cry of her best friend run through her head.

In two minutes they were both charging towards the source of the cry.

Kurt was bent over in agony, screaming. His body was stretching, bones cracking and reforming against his will in the most excruciatingly painful way. His skin stretched and wrapped around him, the bones that weren't breaking physically shifting and snapping into new positions. Electricity swirled around him as he screamed and screamed and screamed, hands going to his hair as blue and silver markings spread over his skin in stripes and swirls. His ears twisted into points as his legs stretched out without his consent. The sound of cloth ripping echoed around him in the glade as his body broke free of the material bindings of his clothes. A wind whipped up around him, carving through his rain soaked hair as he screamed.

Brittany and Santana burst into the glade as Kurt continued shrieking in pain, the sound inhumane and gut wrenching. "Oh Gods."

"The emotional stress he's been under must have triggered it again." Brittany responded, squinting through the driving rain as a bubble of electric blue energy started growing around Kurt, it's bright glow ethereal and creepy. "Kurt! Kurt, you need to fight this!" She yelled at him.

Kurt screamed louder.

"Kurt, come on, you're stronger than this, you can beat it!" Santana urged as Kurt curled further in on himself, energy flaring around him as gale force winds whipped through the air. "Kurt, do it for us!" She pleaded in vain.

Kurt looked at them, blue eyes wide and terrified for the briefest of moments. "I'm sorry." He whispered, Brittany and Santana barely able to make the words out. Then his face screwed up and he let out a shriek that had them covering their ears and ducking for cover as a colossal wave of energy blasted outwards from him. Then, everything was still save for the driving rain and the wind still blowing, although it had luckily died down somewhat.

"Kurt...?" Santana whispered, peeking out from behind the bush she'd dove behind. Kurt was still curled up in the centre of the glade, unnaturally still. "Kurt?" She tried, hesitantly inching towards him. Kurt remained as he was. "Kurt...are you alright?" Santana asked again, exchanging a concerned look with an equally worried Brittany. "...Your Majesty?" She whispered.

Kurt's head snapped up, his normally gentle blue eyes replaced with a menacing, ice blue glow surrounding his pupil. Without warning Santana was on her back as Kurt lunged. Instinct flooding her she planted her feet in his stomach and kicked him off her only for Kurt to twist mid-flight and land perfectly on his feet. He was snarling at her, face void of recognition as he reached to his belt.

Santana had never been more relieved she'd taken his daggers.

Her relief turned to dread as Kurt raised a hand to the heavens, drawing lightning straight into his grasp and fashioning it into a sword as he ran at her, Santana being forced to use all of her skills to avoid the blows. "Kurt, try to think!" She begged, ducking as Kurt swung viciously. "I'm not your enemy!" She cried.

Brittany watched helplessly from the sidelines. If she tried intervening he'd overpower her with ease, so she could only sit back and watch as her best friend and her girlfriend fought one another like feuding tribes in the Northern Mountains. She winced as Kurt used his free hand and pushed Santana in the chest, a bolt of energy rippling around his hand as she was slammed across the glade. Then Kurt growled and tossed the lightning sword at her. Santana barely ducked in time as it exploded into a nearby tree, sending it up in flames until Kurt quelled the fire and sent it at Santana, singing the ends of her hair. Santana was faltering slightly, the electric blast weakening her, but Kurt was as strong, and possessed, as ever.

Growling, he tackled Santana head on, the two rolling around as Santana tried to defend herself and Kurt tried to annihilate her. Santana felt herself flagging under the assault, wincing as Kurt sent a hard knee to her stomach and clawed at her hip, drawing blood as she attempted to defend herself from all sides with only partial success. Kurt struck a powerful blow on Santana's shoulder before Santana whipped out her sword, flipped it, and struck him on the side of the head. She had to hit him another two times before Kurt was finally unconscious. At once, the wind died down completely and the rain eased off somewhat.

Brittany hastily joined Santana, both of them looking down at their fallen friend, electricity still crackling over his skin. "We'd better move him." She mumbled, cradling his head and studying the wound to the side of his head. "If Aladorn's smart he'll know who created this storm and won't hesitate to come looking. We've got to get him out of here."

Santana nodded, already hoisting the boy onto her back. "My house. Taking him to the mansion would be too risky. At least in my neighbourhood we can keep him hidden." She decided, the pair already running towards their destination. "You know, one day, we'll figure out what causes these damn fits." She grumbled as they went into her house and dodged the human adults acting as her parents. Lying Kurt down on the bed, Brittany set to work fixing up his head.

"Jesus San, he's got a dent the size of a tennis ball!" Brittany scolded.

"Sorry! I had to hit him hard enough to keep him from clobbering me!" She defended with a pout whilst tending to her own injuries as best she could. Brittany rolled her eyes and continued healing her friend. Santana sighed, slumping into a seat next to Kurt and rubbing her face. "We've been way too harsh on him." She decided as Brittany nodded sadly. "It's just...I never saw Burt as his Dad before, even if I knew he was a good parent to Kurt. I mean, I knew he was the closest thing to a Dad Kurt has, but I just didn't realise exactly how much he really meant to him. But the way Kurt's been acting...I guess I just forgot that sometimes it's impossible not to form attachments."

"Me too. As much as I'm worried about what will happen in the future...Burt's been good to Kurt. Actually been a decent parent. We shouldn't have locked Kurt out because he was scared and angry and let his emotions get the better of him." Brittany felt shame creep into her heart. "We should have fought harder to get him to let us in." She finished.

Santana rubbed her girlfriend's shoulder as the enchantress sat back and let her partner wrap her up in a cuddle. "We all make mistakes. What's important is that we learn from them, never repeat them if we can help it, and fix those that can be fixed."

"When did you become a sage?" Brittany teased. Santana flushed as they sat and waited for Kurt to wake up again.

When Kurt did wake up the first thing he noticed was the colossal headache he had. Groaning he squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that it would go away. He felt sore all over, and when he shifted he could feel cold air brushing over his bare skin. He held his head and winced as something pulled on his cranium.

"Take it easy." A female voice advised, doing nothing to ease his pounding head. "You had a severe knock to the head."

"Gods, what happened?" Kurt groaned, rubbing his forehead and trying to blink awake. "I feel like someone ran me over with a herd of Wildæzsnach." He grumbled.

"You had a fit. One of those fits." Santana's face swam into view, a bandage peeking out from under her clothes as it wrapped around her shoulder. Slowly, he struggled upright so he was propped up against some pillows Brittany ended up fluffing. Looking down, he could see the evidence of Santana's words as he took in his markings, clear as crystal. "Here." She offered, holding out a mirror for him to take. He poked at his angular features with a grimace, twisting his neck and head. With his free hand he pulled down the shoulder of his torn top to reveal his birthmark.

He turned to Brittany. "How long will I be stuck like this?"

"Well, considering the intensity of your fit...at least three hours before you can risk using any magic." She admitted and he flopped back onto the bed.

"We need to figure these out." He told them seriously, wincing as he probed around where his head hurt the most until Santana slapped his hand away. "If Aladorn uses these fits to locate me, then I won't stand a chance. He'll obliterate me before I can blink, even with these supposedly heightened abilities." Kurt's face darkened. "Or use me against my own troops."

"Kurt..."

"I'm serious Santana." Kurt sighed and focused, closing his eyes and shutting out the pain. A few minutes later, he was fully able to function, sliding off the bed and walking to the bedroom window, eyeing the outside world whilst his friend came to the window, tapping on the glass until Kurt opened it and let the bird hop onto his shoulder. "We've been getting comfortable. Last year we spent too much time trying to 'fit in' and not enough time focusing on the war effort. And that was my mistake. I got lost. And because I got lost Aladorn's had time to grown stronger." He stared out for a moment, the window shut once more as he peered through the glass solemnly. "Something is coming. I can feel it, in my bones. Something's about to change. And we've got to be ready." He sighed and turned to Santana. "Inform the troops I'll be visiting more regularly. Up their training hours." He swallowed hard. "I might...I might lose my father, but it's no excuse to abandon the war."

"Kurt..." Brittany murmured.

Kurt shot her a wavering smile. "I'll be alright Brit. But right now, I need a distraction. So let's start working on this problem." He decided, smiling as they nodded and Santana dug out her books and they settled in for a long night together, Kurt's thoughts all over the place even as he worked, Brittany keeping their hands entwined and offering constant comfort that Kurt was eternally grateful for.

"Kurt can I talk to you for a second?" Mercedes asked as they were at their lockers. Kurt eyed her warily. "Look, I know you're going through a scary time right now but, I don't know how to be around you anymore." She confessed. "And I know you're not really...spiritual, but I feel like you're closing yourself off to a world of experiences that might surprise you." She admitted.

Kurt sighed and shut his locker. "You're right, and I guess I'm sorry. I shouldn't be closing myself off to my friends, at least. Especially not ones as fabulous as you." He conceded.

"Do one thing for me?" Mercedes asked. "Come to church with me this Sunday?" She requested. Kurt opened his mouth to protest. "We do this thing where we dedicate the service to someone and, I thought this week we could dedicate it to your dad."

"Mercedes..."

"You get to wear a fabulous hat." She tried.

Kurt laughed brokenly and ducked his head. "As much as that might normally sway me, not this time." He declined. Mercedes looked crestfallen so he reached out and rubbed her arm. "I do appreciate you trying to help...but I just can't go someplace where I don't feel comfortable. What's more, I'm not going to force myself to do something I just don't believe in." He whispered to her. He forced a smile. "Mercedes...I'm not shutting you out. But I don't believe in God, and I never will. One service isn't going to change what's in my heart. I won't protest the service, but I just..."

"You can't show up either." She finished. Kurt nodded solemnly. "I understand." She assured him. "And, I guess...I also owe you an apology." She bowed her head. "I should have been more understanding about your beliefs rather than just shying away from you, and I should have stopped people from doing something you specifically asked us not to. Even if we wanted to help, I should have known going against your wishes wouldn't be right. And," She looked up. "I'll try and be more accepting of your beliefs as well. Maybe start praying the dwarf won't cause any freak thunderstorms in the near future." She teased.

"Well god forbid that that happens." Kurt shot back. "But I'll be a little more relaxed about your Christianity. Just...try not to shove it in my face again?" he asked.

"Promise." She swore, and they smiled at one another, linking arms and going to their next class.

"You can't even dress yourself without my help." Kurt tittered weakly, fixing Burt's hospital gown tiredly. Kurt sat down by his side, studying Burt's unresponsive face. "You know Mercedes wanted me to go to church on Saturday." He admitted. "Yeah, me in church, that goes down well." He laughed wryly. "I didn't go. I can't change myself that much." He shrugged. "But...on Monday, she took me aside after Glee and sang me this song...and, as she was singing, this random memory hit me." Kurt admitted. "Do you remember our first Friday Night Dinner after mom died?" He asked. "When you tried to make a chicken?" He prompted, a smile tugging on his face even then as the memory replayed itself in his head. "I guess you wanted me to feel like there was something still normal." He went on even as his voice wavered and more tears built up. "You put it on the table, and you cut into it...and it was raw." He laughed tearfully. "And we both looked at each other for a second and...we cracked up before we remembered that we weren't supposed to yet." He recalled fondly. He was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry about the other day Dad. I should have...I should have let those guys pray for you." He apologised, head bowing. "It wasn't about me, it was about you and...it was nice of them." He reasoned. Biting his lip he looked up at the unconscious man. "I don't believe in this God Dad. I'm not even sure I believe in this world or any of its morals. I don't think I can really believe in my purpose here, and I...I'm really not sure if I even believe in myself. But I believe in you." His voice grew hoarse. "And I believe in us." He finished. "You and me, that's what's sacred to me. I didn't see it before because I was too caught up in my own stresses and worries, but I do believe in us. What we have is more sacred to me than anything on this rock you call a planet." He felt his voice wavering violently. "And I am so sorry I never got to tell you that." He admitted, voice thick and strangled and barely comprehendible. He let his tears fall and shoulders shake as he cried.

Then his dad's hand moved.

"D-Dad?" He asked, hardly daring to hope as he watched his father's hand move. "Nurse Nancy!" He called out, holding onto his Dad's hand. "Dad, I'm right here." He promised. "I'm not going anywhere!" He vowed desperately, more tears falling. "I'm going to be the son you deserve Dad, no matter what, I promise. I'll be the son you deserve."

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