Limits

Summary: Taken from a prompt on the Glee Angst Meme. Burt Hummel's dead, Kurt Hummel's doing his best to stay under the radar of Child Services, and the bullying is quickly bringing him to the end of his steadily shortening rope. The tiny, unused razor in the jewelry box seems to agree with that assessment. So it is really any wonder that when he catches sight of a blue police box left open just a crack that he would run inside?

Disclaimer: Nope. No, no, no.

AN: ACTION CHAPTER TIME. Be happy! Thank you so, so much for your reviews and the alerts I've gotten recently from people, they really help keep my motivation up and inspire me to write faster! I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Eleven: Vibrato

There were still a fair amount of nights that Kurt just couldn't sleep.

This was one of them.

Most of the time, it was easy enough to find something to do until he wore himself out, whether it was wandering around until he found the Doctor or just exploring the TARDIS because it never seemed like he'd ever be able to see all of it.

This was not one of them.

The food had been nostalgic and painfully familiar and despite the fact that the breadsticks alone cost him about seven hundred calories before he even touched the food itself, he'd devoured every last bit of it. Kurt's phone had sat, untouched and turned off in the corner of the TARDIS because he couldn't even stand to look at it, not like this when he was suddenly feeling so deeply the magnitude at what he'd done.

Tonight, he'd stopped Rose in the hallway just before she entered her bedroom and hugged her tightly. Kurt hadn't been able to explain it because he couldn't put that feeling into words, the disconnect and the tightness in his chest that he couldn't loosen. The girl had blinked but returned the hug, and Kurt realized with a start that there had been absolutely no hesitation in the gesture. There was no uneasiness, no split-second freeze that he'd so gotten used to that meant that she was debating anything at all in whether or not she wanted to return it. It had been easy. He'd reached out to her and she'd reached out right back to him.

Like he really, really belonged.

When had that happened and why hadn't he noticed?

Being back here now, the fact that he was so noticeably uneven was the weirdest thing. It had been almost two years for him but only six months had passed here, and seeing Mercedes, essentially untouched by age had nailed it straight home. He was taller, older. He had over a year and a half on everyone he'd known and left and that left him cold and uneasy.

He'd been younger than Finn, now he was definitely older.

At least he'd never be taller.

The sudden and altogether unexpected age gap wasn't the only thing setting him on edge. The look on Mercedes' face felt like it had been burned into his retinas, hurt and shocked and completely disbelieving. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about what he was doing when he left. Kurt Hummel had walked into the TARDIS with the complete understanding that he was leaving for good.

He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, but…

If it's you or them, choose you.

He hadn't thought about it at the time, but hadn't that been what he'd been doing? Kurt wanted to live, and what he was doing when he first met Rose and the Doctor…that wasn't living. That wasn't anywhere close to living. It wasn't even a sense of stagnation; it was a decline, slow and steady like a beach eroded by the waves, each one dragging off a few grains with every tug.

If it's you or them, choose you.

From where he sat in the library, his pants rolled up to the knees and his legs swishing lazily in the pool, Kurt couldn't help the dry smile that tugged at his lips.

He hadn't ever thought of it in terms of him or them, but wasn't it true? He'd chosen himself and in turn sacrificed his relationships with the people he already treasured because if he didn't, he would have undoubtedly died.

"If it's you or them, choose you…"

"Good advice."

Kurt jumped and whipped his head, coming face to face with the Doctor, who didn't look surprised in the slightest. Most of the time when he couldn't sleep, he sought out the Doctor. This time, the Doctor had found him.

"I was waiting for you, you know," the man informed him, "Saved all the best panel-whacking and everything. Don't be rude and leave a man hanging."

"How'd you know I'd be up?"

The Doctor snorted and approached, shrugging off his coat to roll up his own pants to dunk his feet in.

"Please, who do you take me for? You forget that I've met you before. A blind, deaf, and dumb monkey with no thumbs at all would have known that you'd be awake," His voice bore no room for argument and Kurt grinned, more than a little bit sheepish.

"Point more than taken."

"Who gave you that advice?" the Doctor asked plainly, and it was at times like this that Kurt realized that despite the very stark differences between the Doctor he'd first met and the Doctor in front of him now, the man was essentially himself. A different face and a different voice and a different body… even a different personality didn't change what made him himself. He didn't like subtlety and beating around the bush and he asked questions fearlessly, a trait that Kurt couldn't help but admire in him.

"My father."

It had taken a long, long time for Kurt to even be able to mention the man, and even now, that familiar heaviness began to settle in his stomach. Time had passed, but oh Kurt missed him. Time had passed, but not a single day would ever pass in which Kurt wouldn't miss Burt Hummel.

"It was originally about the bullying. He worried that… that if I was ever in a fight, I wouldn't be able to defend myself. Or that… or that I'd be too afraid to hurt someone that I'd let myself get hurt instead." Blue eyes darkened and Kurt stared intently at the water, watching it ripple around his legs. "I was just realizing that it's been my credo for longer than I thought."

For a while, the Doctor didn't reply, settling instead for stilling his legs and wiggling his toes.

"Good man, your Da. Knew what was important," he said eventually, words steady and tone oddly subdued compared to his normal lilt.

For a good minute and a half, Kurt sat silently, throat insistently choked and eyes unnaturally shiny with unshed tears.

Two years ago, he might have thrown something because his reaction would have been angry and furious and he would have been looking for any outlet at all to take it out on. A year ago, he probably would have turned away and said nothing, only letting himself cry through it later when he was alone. Now, Kurt forced in a breath that wavered and shook and hurt and kept his eyes lowered, but he smiled. Sadly, but there was a warmth that had taken so long to return to him that he never thought he'd get back.

In those three months, Kurt had been asked endlessly when he thought he'd be able to talk, that everyone would be there waiting for him when he was ready, when would he be ready? He wondered if he hadn't made the decision to walk through those blue doors, if anyone would have actually waited for two years for him to be ready.

But someone was there and had waited for him to be ready for the two years that it had taken, with scowls and eyerolls and smiles and hair rubs and hand squeezes and blessed silence on the edge of a swimming pool, and Kurt smiled.

"Yeah," he breathed, voice light and airy, "Yeah, he did."

And the Doctor smiled back, wide and slow and honest and all Kurt could think was damn, the man was wonderful. All of him, the one with him now with a ridiculously contagious giggle who was vain about his hair and often spoke before he thought and the one with too-big ears and an excessive love for banana bread and who Kurt had never, ever wanted to say goodbye to, and probably those who had come before that he'd never get the chance to know.

"He'd have liked you," Kurt continued, just a tiny bit shakily. A hand, long and thin and strong, reached out to pat him on the arm. Encouraging. "Both of you. You'd have driven him nuts, but he'd have liked you anyway. Jack would have scared him out of his tree, though. I think…"

"…yes?"

"I think he'd be happy," Kurt whispered, "I think he'd be happy that I've… that I've decided to try and be happy. Since I can't bring him back. Since neither of us could bring Mom back… I think he'd be happy if I was happy."

That sincere smile never once left the Doctor's face.

"I think you're right, Kurt. I think he'd be very, very happy."

"You know that bad feeling I had when we landed? I think we just found the source."

Trouble absolutely found them just as Rose knew that it would.

It wasn't in the form of zombies walking the streets or mass hysteria, though if anyone had actually been around, there probably would have been a stampede of people running like there was no tomorrow.

Trouble came in the form of a dead body the very next day, sitting upright on a park bench and staring blankly forward.

Rose yelped and hung back but the Doctor, not nearly so squeamish (or squeamish at all, really) approached without hesitation, sitting next to the body on the bench as if about to ask about the weather. If he'd actually done that, Rose thought she might have had to smack him one.

"No life signs, no external cause of death—hold on," the Doctor leaned in closer and examined the corpse's neck, "Scratch that, there's an injection site on the throat, possibility of poisoning…"

"Please, please, please don't lick it," Rose warned, properly wary, only to receive an eyeroll.

"Oh, for the love of— What kind of person do you take me for? I'm over nine hundred, not two."

"Someone with an oral fixation who tends to test things by putting them in his mouth," the girl replied bluntly and without hesitation, "Please don't."

The Doctor huffed but brought out the sonic screwdriver, activating it before beginning to run it over the body in a scan.

"Ah, here we go! Definitely some sort of toxin, appears to be instantly fatal to the human form so do try your best to not expose yourself… no idea on the effectiveness on Time Lords."

"Any idea on what sort of thing has a poison like that?" Rose asked, creeping closer to get a better look. She'd seen more than her share of dead bodies but this was just creepy, all pasty pale and sitting up like that. There was an open book next to him and her stomach jumped; he'd just been sitting there and reading, when some… thing had just come up and injected him with some sort of fast-acting poison.

Creepy.

Suddenly, she sniffed.

"Doctor, do you smell…?" she began, and the Doctor's nostrils flared, testing the air.

"Hmmm, very interesting. And distinctive but I just can't put my nose on it—"

"Corn chips. We're smelling corn chips. What the blazes goes around leaving residue that smells like corn chips?"

The Doctor rubbed his chin, eyebrows furrowing.

"A lot of things, actually. The bacterium Proteus tends to give off a scent much like sweet tortillas, as do a lot of yeasts. Dogs are particularly prone to it. But it's almost never this strong…hmmm. Interesting." Leaning away from the body, the Doctor waved the screwdriver in an arc to take in the surrounding air, "It's definitely some sort of residue or trail, but it's been too long, it's gone cold."

Rose grimaced.

"What do we do about the body?"

The Doctor shrugged.

"What do we usually do?"

The blonde rubbed her temples, chewing absently on her lower lip. It figured.

"If they're not spewing blue gas, we usually leave the poor bloke for the force to deal with and head back to make a plan."

"Smart girl."

"Why am I not surprised at all that there are dead bodies?"

"Because you've been with us for way too long and have gotten used to horrible things."

"Hmmmm, true. Well, the food's good at least."

"Hmmmm, true."

Sitting alone in the TARDIS at about three the next afternoon, Kurt glared angrily at his phone.

Most of the time, he tried his best to avoid regretting the things he did or didn't do.

Most of the time, it worked.

Now, after spending the last couple of afternoons by himself while his companions investigated, Kurt was seriously beginning to regret that little decision. It wasn't that he suddenly wanted to go outside or that the thought of being recognized again was a tempting one, it was simply that he couldn't stand them going off into danger without him.

And it was danger.

It might have only been Lima, but it was dangerous now and Kurt didn't know what good he'd be, but he knew that he didn't want them going off without him.

He continued to glare at his phone, and Kurt was pretty sure that if it could glare back at him, it probably would have been.

The clock on the wall (damnit Rose, why'd you have to put a clock in a time machine?) ticked loudly, and Kurt clenched his hands, white-knuckled, into the fabric of his shirt.

A minute ticked by.

Then two.

Then…

"Oh, hell," Kurt growled, lashing a hand out to grab his phone and flicking it on. He bypassed the texts and missed calls and voicemails because he was simply not ready to deal with those yet and dialed in a number.

"Hello?"

"Rose, it's me. Where are you guys? I can't stand this, I'm going to come find you."

"We're at the—" the girl cut off when a jumble of words in the background that could only be the Doctor interrupted her, "Crap. We've got another body. Doctor, how fresh is it—?"

There was a clicking that could only be the sound of the phone changing hands and the voice coming through the receiver changed.

"Kurt?" the Doctor said, "We're in the park, between Main Street and Martin Circle. I just did a scan, there's more than one of these things running around; there's a diverging trail coming from the body, one going south and the other's heading east. Whatever this thing is attracted to large groups of people," The sound of quick footsteps could be heard from the other line, "Rose and I are going after one heading south, I need you to track the one going east—"

Kurt's brain had shut off.

Large groups of people, east of Main and Martin…

The place with the most people that was set east of Main and Martin at this time of day was…

William McKinley High School.

Shit.

"Go into the armory and bring a weapon just to be safe; if you find it, whatever you do, do not let it close to you. You'll know where it's going by the scent it leaves behind, like corn chips. Rose and I will meet up with you as soon as we can, just try and keep it from killing people…"

Kurt was already half flying down the hallway to fling open the door to the armory, grabbing a sheathed short sword to strap into his belt in one hand and a blaster that he had some experience with in the other. He didn't wait to hear the rest of what the Doctor said before hanging up and jamming his phone into his pocket.

The TARDIS key was heavy on the chain around his neck and Kurt didn't think twice about where he was going.

He didn't think twice about what he was doing either.

There was some kind of people-poisoning monster on the loose that was heading in the direction of the high school and he didn't even think about what he was doing. Kurt didn't register sprinting down the streets and muscle memory kept him focused on where he going.

Corn chips, corn chips, corn chips…

There it was, salty and familiar and kind of gross like the boy's locker room and Finn's cleats.

The closer he got, the more intense the scent became and a cold began to slip into Kurt's stomach because sometimes he really hated being right and right then, he might have given about anything to have been wrong.

He didn't stop until he hit the front doors, doors that he hadn't seen, never mind touched, in about two years.

He flung them open and slipped inside.

The halls were silent and Kurt silenced his footsteps to match. He could see kids, inattentive and bored, in the classrooms.

Okay, so no one here had died yet.

God, the scent was strong.

Breath haggard, Kurt followed it.

God, what was he doing? He didn't even know what he was looking for. He didn't know where it was or what it looked like, whether it had teeth or claws, what it wanted, what it was weak to. He didn't know whether the blaster would even be effective or whether he would have been better off to punch the thing in the nose.

Briefly, he considered leaving and trying to hunt down the Doctor because what in the hell was he even doing here?

There was a rustle, a clink, and the smell got stronger.

Damnit.

He followed his nose, down the halls and past lockers (past Mercedes' locker, past his own locker, God that was weird) and through more halls. Whatever he was tracking didn't make another noise but hell, he could smell it. If he got out of this all in one piece, Kurt was going to start calling himself Toucan Sam because he was damn good at this.

It was also time for another one of those stimulating introspections on where his survival instincts had gone. No one sane went chasing after unknown killer monsters.

Seriously.

Someone came around the hallway and Kurt ducked into the girl's restroom for a split second until it passed, continuing on his way.

The path was disturbingly familiar. And Kurt began to freeze when he realized where his steps were leading him.

The choir room.

Shit, the choir room.

Glee was last period.

Hell.

He could see the door from here, and he saw it open just the tiniest bit and silently click shut.

Hell, hell, hell.

Kurt steeled himself and didn't hesitate when he hit the door, slamming it open with an impressive crash and skidding inside, coming face to face with thirteen pairs of shocked, stunned eyes.

AN2: TIME TO CLIFFHANGER THE CRAP OUT OF YOU. No regrets, just love. If I don't get at least a few ragey reviews, I will be sorely disappointed. Rage aside, though, please leave feedback if you liked this or just want to wring my neck with how this is going. Thank you for reading!