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: Happy Thanksgiving to my American peeps! Eat lots of pie. I was going to not post this yet but considering the fact that I have nothing to do but babysit the turkey in my oven for another two hours, why the hell not?

Thank you so much for all of your reviews on the last chapter. It seemed to go over well, even though I think most of you wanted me dead for leaving it like that. I love you kids!

Chapter 12: Requiem

"Hey, do you smell Fritos?" Finn asked absently, right as Mr. Schue straightened up to start talking about their final assignment for the year.

Rachel never answered him because the door was practically ripped off of its hinges and a figure flung himself into the room, breathing heavy and staring around, blue eyes wide.

For about a minute, no one breathed because it had been one thing for Mercedes to catch a quick glimpse of him with sunglasses on and trying to be incognito but now that there was time, it couldn't be more obvious as to who exactly it was.

Those blue eyes so familiar and all Finn could think was how on earth Kurt had managed to get so tall and grow into himself in such a short period of time.

"Kurt—?" Rachel exclaimed in shock, clambering to her feet, and Kurt raised a hand and hissed at her,

"Be silent. Talk later. Right now, I'm here to keep you from all getting killed."

"What do you…?"

"Rachel Berry, shut up right now, I'm busy and I need to think. For once in your life, just be quiet and I will get to you when I get to you," Kurt snarled, tense and wary and absolutely out of his depth.

Kurt scanned the room. The smell was almost overpowering to the point that he couldn't even tell anymore where it was coming from and he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. It had to be here, though. He'd seen the door open, and…

One hand traveled to the gun at his hip.

Thirty seconds passed and he paced once, very slowly around the room.

It was here, it had to be here, he knew it had to be here, but where?

He sniffed and stilled to stand as a statue, unmoving.

It was here.

No one breathed, no one spoke, no one even blinked.

And then something touched his neck, a breath hot and sticky and wet and Kurt whipped around, lashing out with a fist that had learned to not pull punches anymore. There was a pained yelp and he hit something and the image of the room in front of him flickered like a television on the fritz and finally faded, and Kurt suddenly knew exactly what he'd been hunting.

The creature was small and lithe, only about four feet tall, built like a hollow-eyed bipedal dog but with beige scales instead of fur. Behind it, a tail that had to be longer than six feet swayed, topped with a stinger like a scorpion's, thin and wickedly sharp.

Dogs, bacteria that smelled like tortillas, a canine form. It exclaimed the corn chip smell, at least.

Kurt dragged in a breath.

"You douchebag, where'd you get a cloaking device?"

The creature growled.

And Kurt shot, whipping out the blaster with only the slightest hesitation and aiming right for the eyes. The brief moment of hesitation was enough though and the thing managed to dodge, darting away to scramble to the walls, crawling on them like a gecko.

"What do you want?" Kurt asked and received only a growl in reply, "Why are you doing this? You've left bodies everywhere, you and your little scaly friends. What the hell are you playing?"

A hiss answered him and it took Kurt a second to realize that it wasn't just a hiss, it was words. Thank you, TARDIS.

"Liessssss," it hissed, voice high and vaguely reptilian, "Liessss, liessssss."

"What about lies?" Kurt demanded, and the creature dropped down to the floor, tail arching in a threat over its head, "What are you talking about?"

"Liessssss."

They circled each other like a couple of prize fighters, Kurt never lowering the gun in his hand. Somehow, he didn't think that the sword would be too useful for this.

"Time jumper," it began again, "I did not predict the lasssst Time Lord, the Oncoming Sstorm to be ssso… sssmall. You will be eassssier than we thought."

Along with that mental note to examine his sanity closely, Kurt made a check in the little box that marked off suicidal tendencies as well for what he was going to do.

"What, you think I'm little?" he postured, forcing bravado that he didn't feel into his voice, "I'm over nine hundred years old and I have more power in my pinky than you could ever dream to have. What do you think you can do to me?" The creature had briefly turned its attention to the others in the room and Kurt panicked. Redirect, he had to redirect it, get its attention back on him.

If pretending to be the Doctor would make that happen, so be it.

The creature bristled and suddenly screeched furiously at him, flashing saliva-dripping teeth and a dark maw.

"Liessss!" it screamed at him, "Liesssss, Liessss!" And then it leapt for him, claws brandished like daggers and okay yeah, maybe the sword would come in handy. They missed him by an inch and Kurt held out the blade like a shield instead, its weight comfortable in his hand.

"What is with your fixation with lies?" the boy ground out, keeping an eye on the stinger. The claws and teeth were dangerous but clearly weren't the toxic bits. This assumption was made correct when it landed a hit on him and dug its teeth into his left shoulder, ripping through his jacket and the polo wraps on his arm and shaking him around like a rag doll.

It didn't let go until Kurt clobbered it right in the eye with the hilt of his sword, inspiring it to let him go by sending him flying across the room to slam into the wall.

Ouch.

Kurt knew better than to try and touch the wound or even look at it; he didn't have to see it to know that it was bleeding and that if he lived he'd have another set of marks to add to that arm.

Fucking lovely.

"I don't think you get it," he said, breaths coming in rattles and pain sending shocks through his body, "You really don't want to fuck with me. I am not having a good day and I loved that jacket." He fired off another shot and missed, again.

His friends were huddled on the other side of the room and Kurt couldn't help but feel relieved because as long as this thing's attention was on him, it wasn't on them. He was armed, at least.

"Liessssss."

Kurt sneered, jutting out his jaw.

"What, you don't like lies? Is that why you're going after people? 'Cause teenagers lie more than almost anyone? I don't care how much they lie, you're not allowed to have any more people, especially not these people," Slowly, his brain had begun to wrap around an idea, a crazy, stupid, probably suicidal kind of idea. "How's this one? I've got brown eyes."

The thing hissed and lashed out with a clawed limb, snarling angrily.

"Didn't like that?" Kurt taunted and the circling began again. Not for the first time the boy was grateful for being right-handed because at this rate, he'd have been so many kinds of screwed. "How's this? I've never been in this town before; I don't know any of these people," The first reaction had been mild compared to this one that came with screaming that made his ears ache and that fatal tail coming much too close to comfort. It was almost like it was allergic to lies, and the more ludicrous and intense, the more intense and painful the reaction…

"Liesssss! Die for your liesss!"

"Not your choice to make! I'm not yours, they're not yours!" Kurt shouted back, eyes blazing, "Guess what? I'm straight!"

A scream of rage and a shudder that could have only come from pain was his reward and if Kurt hadn't been so focused on not dying, he probably would have done a war whoop.

"I've never lost anyone I loved, I've never thought I was going to die!" Kurt fired off, ignoring the gasps behind him and the blaring of his phone going off in his pocket, "I've never wanted to die, I've never felt guilty! I don't love the Doctor, I don't love Rose!"

The pained screaming got higher and louder and Kurt thought he was going to explode and the tail missed him again by an inch, just missing his throat.

It was a lucky break, but Kurt Hummel had never been lucky.

Seconds later, he found himself pinned to the ground with a set of teeth hovering just over his face.

"I'm straight, I'm straight, I'm straight," he chanted, "I lost my virginity to a girl!"

The flinch he got was enough to give him the chance to unthinkingly shove the sword up, up into the creature's mouth and up through the jaw, through the skull, until it came out the other end with a wet, squishing crunch. It thrashed and shrieked and finally stilled, collapsing on top of Kurt, who'd begun to shake.

All he could hear was the rushing in his head and his breathing, wispy and harsh and there wasn't enough air, not enough air in the world at all.

"Take that, Ohio," Kurt wheezed, half-hysterical and feeling kind of like he was going to be sick, "Kurt Hummel saves the world with the power of gay."

His phone was still going off and Kurt shouldered the dead beast off of him to grip the device with shaky fingers, answering the call.

"We just got into the school building! Kurt, Kurt, these things are allergic to—"

"Lies, I know," Was that really his voice? It sounded muted and far away, "Kind of ahead of you on this one. Score one for Kurt."

"Is it—"

"Dead? Yeah. Very, very dead."

"Are you okay?"

Rose had stolen the phone and for a moment, Kurt forgot that they couldn't see him and nodded before answering, still flat on his back in the middle of the choir room. No one dared to approach him, preferring for the time being to hug the walls. The scaly, dead dog-scorpion thing that Kurt had just stabbed through the head without a second thought probably had a lot to do with that.

"Somehow. No idea how that happened. I have got to be some kind of mental patient." There was a tap-tap-tap sounding off from somewhere outside and Kurt continued, "I can hear you guys. I'm in the choir room, third door on your left."

The door slammed open and Kurt thought that he'd never be so happy to see them. Rose shoved aside Finn, who sputtered indignantly at her, to kneel down next to Kurt. She caught sight of the body and cringed. The Doctor, on the other hand, simply whipped out the sonic screwdriver and went to town, scanning away with his duster pooling around his ankles.

"You've got blood in your eyes again," the girl said lowly, reaching out a hand to try and wipe it away. It was oil-based and just kind of smeared instead, feeling heavy and waxy on his skin. Kurt preferred to think of it as blood than the grey matter that currently coated his sword. "Sorry, I think I just made it worse."

"It's okay," Kurt whispered, "I think that's the least of my problems right now." He sat up and examined his shoulder, rotating it experimentally. Bad idea, that just made it hurt worse and bleed more. He winced. He'd lost more blood than he'd thought.

"What… what in the hell is even going on here?" Mr. Schuester finally forced out, eyes impossibly wide, staring not at the carcass on the floor but at Kurt as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Kurt?"

It was all hitting him now and Kurt finally raised his head and met their eyes, meeting shock and sadness and hurt with resignation and fear.

"Hello," he said finally, voice low, soft, and deceptively calm, "Long time no see."

All hell broke loose.

Kurt recoiled when a veritable stampede of people closed in on him. He didn't know he expected; hysterical hugs or a few punches to the face. Neither of those things would have been amiss or particularly unwarranted. Hands reached out to touch him but stopped just short, and Kurt looked up to see Mercedes in front of all of them, brown eyes shining with tears.

"Where have you been?" she whispered, "Where have you been? Why are you so… how'd you get so…"

Kurt's stomach roiled and he took one too many looks at the body, mangled and wicked, and found himself turning away from them all to bring up everything he'd eaten that day. Hands –the Doctor's hands because he didn't hesitate at all- had found their way to his shoulders and rubbed unflinchingly until he could straighten up. Grimacing slightly, Kurt wiped his mouth.

"I've been…" he began, shooting a nervous glance around him, "I've been on a trip. A very long trip."

"How could you do that, Kurt? How could you just up and leave everyone? We thought you were dead! How dare you!" Rachel interjected, brown eyes wide and furious.

If it comes down to you or them, choose you.

"I chose me," Kurt replied quietly. "I wasn't…I wasn't in a good place. I needed the space, I needed the time."

"And who are you to judge?" the Doctor interjected suddenly, voice sharp and annoyed and disapproval showing in every line of him, "Seeing as you all did such a great job about it."

There was a collective, bristling flinch.

"Oh, was that rude?"

"Yes," Kurt muttered, unable to help the involuntary twitching of his lips. Regally, the Doctor inclined his head.

"Good, it was meant to be. I've waited a long time to say that."

"Wait a second…" Sam said, almost accidentally, "You were the ones who asked me where the best place in town to eat was."

"And you-" Finn pointed at Rose, "I saw you a few days before he disappeared! You're kidnappers!"

Rose was about a half second from retaliating and probably throwing a punch but Kurt got there first, scrambling to his feet and approaching the people that he'd left.

"Enough," he said firmly. "No one kidnapped me. They opened the door, I walked through it." He would have said more, but there was an odd lightness in his head and Kurt didn't think that seeing spots whenever he moved was something that was supposed to happen. "…whoa. Maybe I should sit down. Oh hey…" His voice lightened right there with his head, "That's a lot of blood. That mine? No wonder I'm dizz—" And then he dropped where he stood and the voices only got louder.

Oh god.

Mr. Schue's sweater vests were showing up in his nightmares now.

That was the first thing that Kurt thought when he managed to open his eyes. For a few moments, all he could do was blink blearily and take in the surroundings to figure out where he was. Both arms and legs, check. Neck movement, check. Fingers and toes all wiggle, check. Face, not covered in blood. Awesome. Jacket…hell. Still totally covered in oil blood and ripped irreparably.

"Hey there," Rose was hovering over him, and now that Kurt thought about it, she was sitting in such a way that he could only be flopped in her lap and her hands were tangled in his hair. Embarrassing.

"The overgrown chameleon still dead?" Kurt asked into nothingness.

"As a doornail," the Doctor chirruped from the side, hand absently patting Kurt's cheek in a way that would have been condescending coming from anyone else, "Think you can sit up?"

"Head says no. Shoulder agrees and kind of doesn't want to live anymore."

"Too bad."

Oh, hey, glee director totally still there and looking at Kurt like he wasn't sure what kind of crazy he was. Join the club, Mr. Schue. Join the hell out of that club. Kurt was the goddamned president of that club. Where were the rest of them?

His mental question was answered when another face joined Will's.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Mercedes' or Rachel's or even Finn's. Brittany just hovered for a little bit before dipping down, winding her arms around his neck and dropping a kiss, soft and sweet, onto his lips.

"Welcome back, Kurtsie, do you like your time machine?" she told him, and even though Kurt didn't believe in a god, he thanked something for Brittany because he loved them all but he'd always been a sucker for her. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetheart,' Kurt found himself choking out, and for the love of everything, why was he having to fight to keep his lower lip from shaking and why did he feel like all he wanted to do was roll over and cry? "I really missed you."

"But you feel better now that you're older?" she asked, "Did you get your heart fixed?"

And now he really was crying just a little bit, softly and with intense restraint. Stifling any noises that threatened to make their way from his throat, Kurt just pressed his palms to his eyes.

If he'd had the energy, he would have sat up and seen the rest of his friends sitting wordlessly and pale-faced on the risers. He'd learn later, after he'd gotten some rest, futuristic heal-y things, and plenty of fluids, that they'd all essentially been rendered senseless after the Doctor hadn't been able to get out of giving some sort of explanation.

Kurt might have felt bad but he wasn't going to deny feeling relieved that he at least had been gloriously unconscious through the whole messy business that probably involved a lot of questions that no one wanted to answer and plenty of the Doctor's frustrated ranting.

When he could, Kurt lifted his head.

"Hey, Doctor? I'm sorry."

"For what?" the man replied, sounding curious.

"I totally just threw you under the bus in my head. Eternal apologies."

"Yeah, well. I'm not the one who looks like he got the business end of an alligator fight so I think we're even. You're also quite loopy right now."

Kurt snorted at him.

"I'm loopy. I'm loopy. Oh, that is just beautiful. The crazy time-travelling man is telling me that I'm loopy." Looking up, Kurt managed to catch an eyeful of the Doctor raising a single brow at him, resting his head on his hand.

"He's just a bit addled," he informed Mr. Schuester, who looked like he really, really wanted to say something about this. No one should be allowed to sound quite so lofty, Kurt decided, especially considering the fact that he was basically petting Kurt's head at this point. "He'll be right as rain once he gets some legitimate medical treatment. Now, back to that plan to smuggle him out of this sprog-prison…"

"Did you know that rainbows are just half-loops?" Brittany spoke up, smiling. "Since you're Capital-G, you were already halfway there anyway."

All Kurt could do was laugh hysterically, pressing his cheek into the Doctor's palm.

Kurt had to admit that they at least ended up smuggling him out in style, after they'd extracted a promise that he knew he'd never be able to break that once he was coherent, they'd be having a very long talk. How many people got piggy-backed out of William McKinley in a bright pink beanie (thank you, Tina) and swaddled in a Time Lord's coat? Not many, he imagined. In fact, he was probably the first.

Take that, Ohio.

That mental health examination would just have to wait, because all Kurt wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep until the world made sense.

AN2: As always, please leave a comment is you enjoyed this or even if you want to drop kick me to the moon. You probably won't get very far though, because by the time this gets read, I'll probably have eaten my weight in pie.