A/N: Sorry for the wait. For some reason, this didn't come very easily. I hope you like it.

I figure that I should probably offer to help Kurt out again. He doesn't look so great, and he could probably use a hand to make him feel better (and, I might have an ulterior motive, but that's not really such a bad thing). I walk up to his locker, and lean against it again, in a way that I hope might seem flirty, but not obvious. "Hey."

"Hey, Sam," Kurt replies, almost brightly, and I'm confused. Obviously Blaine wasn't as much of a permanent fixture as he'd have us believe. "I didn't get the chance to thank you – I really appreciate you taking care of me like that."

I beam back at him. "While we're on the subject of my kindness, I should probably tell you that I'm actually here to offer my services as comforter once again." I don't really know what it is that I am offering, but I still want Kurt to know that I'm there for him. "That is," I add, a moment later, "if you want me."

Kurt smiles, and there's just a hint of condescension in his voice when he tells me that "I really appreciate it, Sam, I really do, but I'm perfectly fine."

I nod. "Sure. Just, let me know if you need me."

He smiles, but it's almost as though his happiness doesn't reach the sides of his face. "I'll be sure to give you a call."

It's about midnight when I get that call. However, it's certainly not who I expect. In my mind, when I answer the phone, my response is "Hello, this is Sam Evans, who am I speaking to?" The "huh?" from the other end alerts me to the fact, however, that I've probably said "llo'smvanshooms'pknto", which isn't even Na'avi. And I'd know. I'm very tired.

"Umm, sorry dude, I have no idea what you just said, but this is Finn."

"Hey," I reply. "What's so important that you have to wake me up at midnight, dude?"

"It's Kurt," he tells me, and suddenly I hear a crash from the other end of the phone. "I think he's snapped."

I start to get dressed, and tuck my cell phone between my shoulder and ear. "I'll be there as soon as I can," I say, and as I'm pulling up my jeans, the phone slips out and tumbles to the floor. I let go of the jeans to reach down and get it, and in the process completely lose my balance, falling straight to the ground in a half-dressed flailing mess. Kurt certainly has an effect on me. Sighing, I pick up the phone.

"Are you okay, dude? I heard crashing and stuff."

"I'm fine. Just fell over. See you soon."

I didn't really know what I was doing. When I came home, I found Finn in the kitchen, obviously making an attempt to cook. And failing.

Badly.

It was like a tornado had come and swept up my little slice of heaven, my kitchen, the one place that I could feel in my element that wasn't my basement, or the choir room. The kitchen was the place that I used to practically live in with my mom – she was always encouraging me to make new foods, create amazing things – after she died, I took over the place. I figured that was part of why I reminded my dad of her.

For some reason, seeing Finn in the kitchen, screwing up something or other, just made me really angry. I'd already felt this weird feeling of him stealing my father, now him in my mother's kitchen made me feel much more insecure. Wasn't I good enough for anyone? Didn't anyone love me in a way that meant that I was irreplaceable?

My lips, like wriggling caterpillars, tightened together and my face contorted into one of pure rage. "FINN HUDSON! What on earth do you think you're doing?"

Finn turned to look at me, and made an attempt at appearing clueless and adorable. "I thought I might make some dinner, or something, so you didn't have to. It's not really working though."

I wasn't putting up with any of his nonsense today, however. "So you just made this huge mess in my kitchen? Who do you think is going to have to clean this up, Finn?" My mind was going so crazy, I just gave in, and picked up a nearby saucepan, brandishing it threateningly. "Who's going to clean it up?"

Finn gulped, and I could see the fear in his eyes. Good. It was nice knowing that I could scare him for a change. "Umm, Kurt, you should probably put that down."

"Why? What's the point?"

"Because you know you don't want to hurt me," Finn said, and it was probably true. He made a move to grab for the metal utensil, but I was too fast. I pulled it back, and when his arm was still extended to make his move, gave him a slight whack in the behind of his elbow. "OW!" he yelled, pulling his arm back sharply, before realizing that I had hit his elbow, meaning that folding his arm would hurt, causing him to grimace in pain.

"Get out of my kitchen!" I bellowed, and Finn ran away. The next thing I knew, I was throwing pots and pans in the sink, making a huge noise and clanging things around. I was angry, and this was how I was going to vent – semi-destructive cleaning. I was throwing things back into the pantry, shoving big clunky metal things into their places in drawers and cupboards, and just in general making a huge noise.

I did that for hours, just throwing things and smashing and crashing and in general just being angry, until the doorbell rang. I checked the clock – it was after midnight, who would come over at this hour? Stomping off to answer the door, I turned the key (roughly) in the handle, and yank the door open, fully prepared to yell very loudly at whomever had the misfortune of making such a catastrophic choice as to visit my house at that hour.

Instead, when I saw the haphazardly dressed, concerned looking blonde at the door, I did the one thing he kept telling me not to do.

I cried. I loosened up and shriveled into this heap of anguish and cried.

And, as far as I could tell, without even thinking about it, he wrapped me up in his arms and held me, closing the door as he walked into the house and led me into my bedroom, still holding me even as we lay down together on the bed. He pulled me close into his chest, holding me safely and keeping me warm as I continued to weep and sniffle.

"I thought it was forever, you know?" He didn't respond, like he knew I had more to say. "I thought that he would be my first and my last. That we'd be together until we were old and grey, singing duets to entertain the rest of the nursing home. I thought we'd be happy until the end of time."

"Sometimes, things just aren't meant to work out. It was probably just a matter of time – if not Puck, there would have been some other guy that he slept with." The wisdom spiraling out of his overly large lips was making its way to my brain, and I realized that he was right.

I yawned, suddenly exhausted. "I think I'm going to get some sleep. How did you know to come here, anyway?"

"Finn called me. He was worried about you."

"He was right," I replied solemnly. "Though I appreciate you coming to my aid, it's after midnight, and you should probably be getting home."

"If you want me to stay, I won't go anywhere," he replied, and it was then that I realized the position we were in – he was cuddling me to sleep.

I nodded. "I'd like that."

About twenty minutes later, I was still attempting to make my way off into dreamland, when I heard a slight creaking of a door. It was, of course my door, and I heard footsteps coming towards me. I kept my eyes closed weakly – if I was right about whom it was coming downstairs, I certainly wanted to feign sleep for just a little while longer.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing with my son?" my Dad asked Sam, whom I noticed tremble a little whilst still trying to be gentle, so as not to wake me.

"I-I… I… umm… well… you see, Kurt's been going through a really tough time, and I've tried to be here for him, and he was really upset tonight, so I came to comfort him, and he sort of fell asleep." I noticed the amount of hesitation in that sentence… could he be less straight than I had immediately envisaged?

"It's all very well to say that, Blondie, but Kurt is an attractive boy, and you're blushing into next September." I couldn't look up to affirm that assessment… what did that mean? "Do you have feelings for my son?"

I felt Sam gulp, and take a deep breath. "Yes."

I had to literally hold my eyes shut, and restrain myself. If I wanted all the facts, I'd need to hear what he had to say to my dad. After all, they were both whispering because they thought I was asleep – and there was no need to break that illusion.

Before Dad could reply, Sam barreled on. "But I promise you, I'll be open and honest with him, and make him feel special, and lo-cared for, and he'll never feel more happy than when he's with me." He paused. "Excluding, of course, when he's with you, I mean. Kurt means the world to me… and I'll make sure that he feels that he's my whole world, because he could be if he let me make him that way, he just… well… he just doesn't know exactly how I feel just yet."

There was a pause, and knowing my Dad, he was considering just what was the right thing to say in this instance. "As long as you do it properly, romance him. Make him feel special, like you said. You don't seem like a bad kid, and I know Kurt and Finn like you, so you can't be too bad. Just treat him right, you hear?"

I felt Sam nod against me.

"Oh, and another thing, Blondie –"

"It's Sam, actually, sir. Sam Evans."

"Well then, Sam, I'm going to have to ask that you please get yourself off my son." My dad walked away, and when I heard the door closed, I took it as a cue to 'wake up'.

"Darn, did I fall asleep?"

To say that I'm happy as I drive back home from Kurt's place is a bit of an understatement. I have approval from his dad to take him on a date, I know that he's comfortable in my arms, and my mind is buzzing from the scale of just how good things are.

I get home, just about to settle back into bed, when my phone buzzes again. Checking the caller ID, I notice that it's Tina.

"Hey," I answer groggily.

"Hey Sam," she says, and I register that she's far too cheery for one o'clock in the morning.

"Is everything alright?" I ask, because, as I've already realized, people don't just call in the middle of the night for no reason.

"Everything's fine, yeah. You know how you gave me that song to sing to Kurt?"

"Yeah?" I replied, because I was confused. How could I forget that? It only happened a few days ago.

"Well, I just thought I'd return the favour."