Another Straight Guy Chapter 22: Open Your Eyes, a glee fanfic

Disclaimer-I do not own Glee or any songs

As I said, the previous chapter was supposed to be longer but I decided to break it down, so, here's the rest of it, hope you like

Lyrics are in italics

Song is: 'Open Your Eyes' by Snow Patrol-my fave song by them

Chapter 22-Open Your Eyes

Noah led Kurt out into the open air; it was late evening and just beginning to get dark. At first, Noah headed in the direction of his truck, but he changed his mind suddenly and pulled Kurt towards the seedy looking Motel. Before Kurt could fully process what was happening, he and Noah were in a small poorly lit room with a double bed staged in the middle covered in surprisingly clean looking sheets.

Upon Noah's insistence, Kurt took his cell phone out and called his dad. He fed him a lie of being at Mercedes' for a while for some quality girl time. After hanging up, Noah took his cell phone from him and switched it off before calling his mum up, telling her he was out then turning his phone off too.

"On the bed, Hummel." Noah ordered and Kurt's eyes widened. "Relax; I'm not gonna rape you."

Kurt felt his cheeks flame as he perched on the edge of the bed, unable to deny the slight amount of disappointment he felt and wondering if that made him sick in the head. He had no desire to be raped of course, that was a horrid thing he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, not even Leanne. But he wanted to have Noah inside of him; he wanted it more than words could describe, but only if Noah wanted it too.

"This may sound inappropriately paranoid and pathetic," Kurt warned as he clenched the quilt in his hands, the material offering him an odd form of comfort. "But you didn't bring me here to murder me did you?"

"Babe, if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already." Noah told him calmly as he leaned against the wall with his arms folded and one foot crossed over the other.

"Babe." Kurt echoed, not sure if he had missed being addressed as such or not.

"Sorry." Noah replied. "It just slipped out. It won't happen again, Hummel."

"Why are you calling me that?" Kurt asked with a sigh.

"I don't know." Noah admitted. "I just… fuck; I don't know how to deal with this shit."

"This shit?" Kurt repeated heatedly. "Me being in love with you, you mean? You have the nerve to refer to my feelings for you as this shit?"

"Come on, you know I don't mean it like that." Noah told him as he pushed away from the wall and walked forwards before dropping to his knees in front of Kurt.

"What are we doing here?" Kurt asked looking down at the boy before him.

"I think I'm trying to save our friendship." Noah answered. "Or maybe I'm trying to ruin it, I don't know. I haven't decided yet. Part of me thinks we'll both be better off if I can just make you hate me but the rest…"

"The rest?" Kurt encouraged wanting the other teen to continue.

"The rest of me…" Noah tried to say but he faltered.

He twisted round so he was sat on the floor cross-legged with his back to Kurt.

"The rest of me cares about my best friend so much," Noah managed to continue. "That I want to give him, give you, what you want. I want to be able to love you but I just don't think I can."

"Try?" Kurt begged as he leaned forwards so he could drape his arms across Noah's shoulders. "Please, for me?"

He pressed a kiss to the nape of Noah's neck, making the larger male tense up. Kurt reached his hand down to the hem of Noah's t-shirt before tugging, indicating to Noah that he wanted him to remove the clothing item.

Taking the hint, Noah stretched his arms up, permitting Kurt to pull the top off and toss it to the floor. Kurt ran his hands up Noah's torso, making him shiver slightly before he brought his hands to Noah's shoulders and started to massage them.

He leaned down and peppered kisses across Noah's tanned skin. He suckled on Noah's pulse point, earning himself a groan. He then gently nipped his way up Noah's neck before nibbling lightly on his earlobe.

"I think we should stop." Noah breathed out.

"Why?" Kurt asked as he moved one hand round to tweak Noah's pierced nipple. "Don't I make you feel good?"

"Look, this isn't gonna work." Noah tried to explain as he turned onto his knees so he was facing Kurt again. "You're not… you're not her."

"Her?" Kurt questioned and Noah dropped his gaze. "Leanne." Kurt realised bitterly. "When are you going to open your eyes, Noah? You don't need me to be Leanne. All the time you were with that loathsome bitch, what you really needed was for Leanne to be me. You want me, you love me. I know you do, I feel it. Why can't you see that?"

Noah was breathing heavily, then all of a sudden he launched himself at Kurt, pinning his wrists to the bed either side of his head as he crushed him with his weight.

Swallowing, Kurt squirmed beneath Noah trying to break free from his hold. As he struggled, he felt Noah's hardness brush against his leg. He froze, and the situation suddenly turned from frightening to highly arousing.

Noah's lips melded against Kurt's own and his eyes widened before fluttering shut in delighted shock as the larger boy devoured his mouth. The rush of feelings that coursed through Kurt were incredible, he thought he might burst. It was so much better than any fantasy or wet dream. As unexpected as it was, it was really happening. Kurt Hummel was making out with Noah Puckerman.

All this feels strange and untrue

And I won't waste a minute without you

Moaning his appreciation, Kurt danced his hands across Noah's exposed skin before reaching down to squeeze his jean covered arse. In return, Noah worked his hand up under Kurt's shirt, creating goose bumps on Kurt's skin with his touch.

"Noah." Kurt panted.

He felt a pair of hands move to the top of his pants and Kurt did nothing to prevent the other teen slipping them down his hips. Still kissing passionately, Noah reached into Kurt's underwear.

Kurt spread his legs and arched his back, needing to feel Noah touch his burgeoning erection. The Jewish boy's fingers had just brushed over the crown of Kurt's cock when Noah snapped his hand back as though burnt and detached himself from Kurt's lips as he scrambled off the bed.

"Noah, what's wrong?" Kurt asked in a panicked voice.

"Fuck, I can't." Noah swore as he yanked his top back on over his head and backed away from Kurt, his eyes staring at Kurt's still exposed penis in horror. "It's too fucking weird. I'm sorry, I can't."

After grabbing his cell phone, Noah fled the Motel room leaving Kurt all alone, missing the warmth of his body terribly.

My bones ache, my skin feels cold

And I'm getting so tired and so old

Choking back tears, Kurt tucked himself away and pulled his pants back up. He moved into the rooms adjoining bathroom and faced his reflection in the mirror above the sink.

Full of rage, he pulled his fist back before smashing it into the mirror, far too emotionally damaged to feel any pain from his injured knuckles.

The anger swells in my guts

And I won't feel these slices and cuts

Almost robotically, Kurt turned on the faucet and washed the blood away before tending to his knuckles as best as he could with toilet paper. When he was done, he made his way back to the main room then collected his cell phone and jacket before leaving.

He was just about to call Mercedes and beg the girl to pick him up when he spied Noah sat in his truck waiting for him.

Without a word, he climbed into the passenger side of the truck and strapped himself in, preparing for what was bound to be a severely awkward ride home.

For several painfully silent minutes, Noah made no sound or movement. He simply sat in the driver's seat with his eyes closed. Not having the courage to speak, Kurt simply remained mute as he waited for Noah to snap out of his thoughts and drive. More than anything, he wanted Noah to open his eyes, look at him and realise how he really felt for him and that it wasn't anything to be afraid of.

I want so much to open your eyes

'Cause I need you to look into mine

Even though Kurt was often wrought with doubts, in that moment, he was positive that Noah did in fact love him just as he'd always hoped, and he was sure if the other teen just opened his eyes then everything would be ok.

Tell me that you'll open your eyes

Finally, Noah's eyelids flew open and he started the truck. They drove in silence and when Noah dropped Kurt back at the school so he could get in his own car, Kurt was barely out of the vehicle when Noah was speeding off.

One lunch time at school, Noah chose not to sit with Kurt and the rest of the Gleeks, but he sat with Karofsky, Azimio and some other bullying jocks instead.

Just the sight of it made Kurt feel like screaming and throwing plates, trays and chairs. He watched as Noah laughed along with them, exchanging high-fives, fist-bumps and pats on the back. It was so wrong, so false. Noah wasn't one of them, they didn't understand who he was and if they did they'd never accept him like that.

Unable to stand it, Kurt rose to his feet and strode determinedly over to them. He latched a tight hold of Noah's bicep and pulled him away, hissing that he didn't belong with such losers.

Get up, get out, get away from these liars

'Cause they don't get your soul or your fire

The day had been so normal. Not great, not bad or remarkable in any way. It was just a standard school day at McKinley High in Lima, Ohio. That morning when Kurt had woken up, there had been nothing to suggest how disastrous the day would end up.

He walked into school, looking an angelic vision dressed in white and silver. His lessons were largely mundane with only a few brief moments that truly sparked his intrigue. Lunch was the same as ever. Uncomfortable chairs, Rachel harping on about Regionals, Brittany's ditzy yet amusing comments and questions, really bad food. It was just another day.

Then before heading to last period, Kurt stopped to use the toilets and ensure his hair was still styled to perfection. If he'd have held his bladder and just gone to his class, maybe it wouldn't have happened. Perhaps if he'd left the bathroom a little sooner, or stayed in a little longer everything would have been fine. The day could have continued on as normally as it had been.

But as it was, Kurt did take a trip to the bathroom before heading to class, a class he never made it to, and he did emerge at the precisely wrong time.

It all happened so suddenly. They attacked him from behind. Too many for Kurt to fight off alone but he was sure he caused a bloodied nose and black eye or two. They hurled abuse at him. Fag! Poof! Queer! Homo! The usual. It was almost insulting how predictable their words were.

It had been so long since he'd dealt with any bullying as extreme as this. Wait, that wasn't true. He'd never been subjected to anything as ferocious as this. He'd almost forgotten how scary it was to be surrounded by so many guys who were larger and stronger than him. He took their hits and threw back as many of his own as he could, but it wasn't enough.

Fists, feet, knees, elbows, they all collided painfully with some part of his body. There was no part of him that didn't receive some form of hit. He was thumped, kicked and shoved around like a rag doll. They yanked out a chunk of his hair, ripped his shiny silver shirt off of his back, he heard the buttons pop off and hit the floor before rolling away, escaping in a way he could not.

Glaring at them through bruised eyes, Kurt found that his attackers didn't even look human. They were brutal, savage… animal.

Pinning him against a locker, the cold metal almost soothing against his flesh, they rained down more punches and clawed at his skin, hungry for his blood.

Karofsky stepped forward, pulling a knife out and holding it up threateningly. The blade caught the reflection of one of the lights overhead. It glinted in the light and through all the pain and fear, Kurt thought the sight was almost pretty.

Somehow, he kept fighting, struggling against their strong holds. It was useless of course.

He didn't really feel the first slash. His mind knew it had been made but the pain didn't hit him. But the second cut made itself known. He tried to scream, to call out for help, but something was jammed into his throat blocking the sound.

More incisions were made, some long, some short, all painful.

They threw him to the floor and he landed stomach down, the wind being knocked out of him. Before he could find the strength to even attempt to scramble away, feet were pressing down painfully on his shoulder blades preventing him from making an escape.

The knife was back, cutting into his skin. These cuts were deeper, more painful. Again, he tried to scream, but the material in his mouth trapped his exclamations of pain and pleas for help.

Someone should find them, he thought as the cuts stopped and kicks resumed. Surely a student or teacher would hear something and come out to investigate. Or somebody would happen to walk by for one reason or another. They had to.

He heard a noise. Not the jeers from his attackers or his own grunts of pain, something new. Footsteps, Kurt realised in relief. He was right, somebody had heard, or just happened to be passing. They'd see, they'd help.

The jocks were faster. Before the footsteps could come near enough to see what was happening, they'd shoved him into a closet, bleeding, bruised and broken, and he lay there for what felt like an eternity. All he could feel was pain. All he could smell was cleaning products. All he could taste was his own blood in his mouth. All he could hear was a humming noise from the pipe work and all he could see was darkness.

As a child, he'd been afraid of the dark, but that fear had long since left him. He found the darkness to be a comfort now. In the dark, it felt like he could hide from people's judgemental stares. He was proud to be different, to be gay, proud of who he was, but that didn't mean it wasn't difficult sometimes. There were occasions when he wished he could be the same as everyone else, or that he could hide in the darkness forever, so no-one could see him.

At long last, the closet door was pulled open and Kurt squinted his eyes against the onslaught of light. Looking up, his sight landed on the form of his saviour. It was Noah. He lifted Kurt into his arms in such a way that he could link their fingers together as he carefully led him away from the gloomy janitor's closet.

Take my hand; knot your fingers through mine

And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time

"It's ok." Noah said gently as he held the slender boy protectively. "I'm here. I've got you. I promise you baby, those dickheads won't ever touch you again."

Although he ached all over, Kurt couldn't help but smile as he heard Noah use the word 'baby'.

They were part way through the next corridor, close to Miss Pillsbury's office when Kurt passed out. He'd taken a brutal beating and he'd been in that closet for nearly an hour before Noah had found him. He'd lost so much blood, and then in Noah's arms, he lost consciousness.

He was floating. It was a little peculiar to be true, but it was peaceful. The world below him looked so quiet, so still. He felt weightless and untroubled. Nothing mattered.

There was no pain, stress, fear or doubt. All was calm, all was pleasant.

He wondered if he was dead. He'd never believed in God or heaven and hell so he didn't know what to make of his current predicament. There were no pearly gates and angels in sight or horrific red demons and fireballs, so that ruled out the heaven and hell theory, unless people's common beliefs about heaven and hell were wrong.

Perhaps this was heaven. The whole floating sensation seemed celestial enough. Was his mother here? Oh how he longed to see her, to hold her, to hear her voice and see her eyes.

But there was nothing. Not another soul up here, dead or living. It was only Kurt, all alone. Well, on reflection that didn't seem very heavenly at all. Was this hell then?

No, that didn't seem correct either. Wherever he was, it wasn't perfect enough to be heaven, but it wasn't awful enough to be hell. Perhaps it was somewhere in between.

He heard voices. So he wasn't alone. He cast his eyes about his surroundings, looking for the speaker. No-one. That was confusing, he was so sure he'd heard someone speaking, someone calling his name. He must have been mistaken.

But he heard it again. That same voice, calling his name, it sounded so familiar. He listened intently, concentrating on the sound of the mysterious voice. It was very faint, but it was definitely real. He tried to move, to get closer to the voice. Maybe if he could find the speaker he could get out of this weird floating place.

Then he heard another voice, one he did not recognise. More voices, some he recognised and some he didn't. They were all talking to the speaker of the first voice, they said he had to go, they were taking him away.

Kurt wanted to scream but nothing sounded when he opened his mouth. He didn't want that person to go. Noah, he remembered suddenly. That's who it was. Noah Puckerman, his best friend, the one who had found him in that dark janitor's closet, who had carried him through the corridors. Noah, the boy he loved.

Blindly, Kurt tried to lift his arm and stretch his hand out to grab hold of Noah, but he couldn't even feel his limb so he had no idea if he had raised it or not. And he couldn't see Noah. All he could see was bright white light.

The voices died down and Kurt suddenly felt more alone than ever. He didn't find the floating to be relaxing anymore.

The light was dimming, everything looked grey now. It didn't feel like he was floating anymore either. It felt like he was stuck in cement with no way to break free. He definitely didn't like this new development.

Where was Noah? Why did they make him leave? He needed him.

He felt so lost. He couldn't move, couldn't scream. He couldn't even cry. He was just there, wherever 'there' was, doing absolutely nothing.

He couldn't be dead, Kurt rationalised. Although it didn't really feel like he was alive anymore. Perhaps he was somewhere in between, trapped, struggling to break free.

He didn't want to die. He wanted to live. His dad, he couldn't die on him, he wouldn't survive without Kurt. They were a team, they needed each other. Then there was Noah and the rest of his friends in Glee, he couldn't abandon them, he had to fight and find a way back to them. But he was scared and alone and he didn't know the way.

At some point, the greyness began to fade and hazy colours took its place. He still couldn't move though.

Voices. He could hear voices again. That was his dad, and Noah, Noah was back. Another voice, he didn't know it, couldn't understand it, he didn't even care. His dad and Noah were here, that was enough. He wished he could touch them.

The unknown voice announced he was leaving. Kurt panicked for a moment, worrying that his dad and Noah might leave too, but they stayed. He could hear them. Their words were muffled and indistinguishable but he knew they were there and he took comfort in that knowledge.

How long had he been in this state, Kurt wondered? Obviously it was more than a few minutes. But had it been a matter of hours, or had it ventured into days? What if it had been weeks, or months or even years?

No, it couldn't have been that long. He'd only heard his dad and Noah. If he'd really been there for more than a few hours he was sure he'd have heard other familiar voices too. Maybe it was just one of those situations where it felt like such a long time but wasn't really that long at all.

He really didn't like being this way. He wanted to wake up or be born again or whatever. He just wanted to open his eyes and find Noah and his dad looking back at him. Was that really too much to ask?

They stopped talking, Noah and his dad, they were silent. They were still near him though, he could sense their presence.

Over time, however much of it that passed, Kurt would occasionally hear his dad and Noah talking in soft low voices. There were also times when he'd hear other voices, nurses and doctors he finally decided. That must mean he was at the hospital.

That was a horrid thought. He'd seen those hideous hospital pyjamas. Hopefully they hadn't dressed him in their ugly ass itchy gowns. He couldn't make hospital pyjamas look stylish, it just wasn't possible. He really hoped they'd left him in his white pants, his silver shirt had of course been ripped to shreds by his monstrous attackers, but the thought of Noah seeing him in hospital wear was humiliating.

His thoughts then turned to his hair. He'd have sobbed if he could. He was sure it must look like a bird nest on his head, there was no way his hair stayed neat during the fight.

For a long while, there didn't seem to be any voices at all. There was a constant beeping sound though, it was quite annoying.

The colours were ever changing. Red, purple, blue, green, orange, yellow, pink, Kurt couldn't keep track.

Then it was dark again. Not for long though. He was back at school, with Noah. They were holding hands as they made their way through the corridor, everybody else parting ways for them. They were kissing and groping without a care in the world. It didn't matter who saw them, they just needed to feel one another. They were in love and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together and do exactly as they pleased despite what anyone thought of them.

Every minute from this minute now

We can do what we like anywhere

Of course, Kurt realised he was dreaming. But maybe when he woke up, those dreams could finally become real. Maybe being hurt this way and put in hospital would help Noah to realise that he truly loved Kurt. He'd held him so protectively when he carried him out of that closet, Kurt remembered. He'd called him 'baby'. True, Noah had called Kurt 'babe' and 'baby' numerous times before, but there was something different about the way he had said it that last time.

Then there was their little make-out session in the Motel. Yes, Noah had freaked out, but it was very clear that the desire was there.

It was colourful again. The colours were stronger this time, less fuzzy. They still flickered from shade to shade though. Red, pink, green, red again, blue, purple, green, purple, red, purple, yellow, beige… yuck, orange, yellow, red, silver, red again. It was hurting his head.

He felt something. His hand, it tingled. Someone was holding it. His dad? Noah? He couldn't tell.

There were muffled voices again. Mercedes was here, she was crying. He wanted to comfort her. Was she the one holding his hand? No, she was too far away. He heard his dad, it sounded like he was trying to calm Mercedes down, reassure her. Footsteps, they were leaving.

Then he heard Noah's voice, it sounded hoarse, as though he had been crying. His hand tingled again. It was Noah holding his hand, it had to be. He tried to squeeze back, to let Noah know he could hear him, but he couldn't do it.

"Open your eyes, baby." Noah begged him, the words sounding so clear to Kurt's ears. "Look at me."

I want so much to open your eyes

'Cause I need you to look into mine

He tried. With all his might he tried to open his eyes, but he failed. He couldn't hear Noah clearly anymore. He picked up the odd word here and there but for the most part is was incoherent mumblings.

His dad was back, Mercedes too. Someone was by his head, sorting out his hair. It was Mercedes; oh Kurt would kiss her if he could. She was fixing his hair; he trusted completely that she'd do her best to make him look presentable.

She was saying something, asking him to wake up. What was that she said? Something about a new pair of boots that she simply had to have his opinion on. The fashionista in him ached to open his eyes and pass judgement, but his eyelids were still far too heavy to lift and stayed stubbornly shut.

Tell me that you'll open your eyes

Crying once more, Mercedes left. His dad and Noah remained though. The two of them hardly ever left his bedside. Kurt imagined they only left to use the toilet and maybe grab something to eat or drink.

Sometime later, there were more voices, and somebody was poking him in different places before being reprimanded. Brittany and Santana, he realised fondly.

He guessed that the blonde had been poking him and that the Latina had told her off and stopped her. They were talking with his dad. Noah was silent but still holding his hand; Kurt could feel it even though he couldn't squeeze back.

A teddy bear was mentioned. Brittany had bought him a stuffed animal as a get well present. That was sweet.

"Damn, Hummel." He heard Santana sigh. "You look like hell."

One could always count on Miss Santana Lopez for brutal honesty. Their voices before mixed and muddled again, too confused for him to make out any form of sentences. Then he heard a snatch of something intelligible from Brittany. She said she'd made him a get well card and that he had to open his eyes to see it.

Tell me that you'll open your eyes

She sounded so childlike; he really wished he could open his eyes for her. He'd like to see the card she'd made. He was willing to bet she'd coloured pretty hearts and rainbows and used lots of glitter.

It hadn't been hours. Kurt was sure of that now. Two days, he was able to make that fact out from one of the doctors. It was embarrassing really, being unconscious for two days after a beating from some moronic jocks. Maybe he'd hit his head on something when they threw him in the closet? He couldn't remember.

On the third day, he was visited by Tina, Artie, Mike and Matt, the latter of which didn't really say much but his mere presence was enough for Kurt. The four of them didn't stay long and Kurt couldn't really blame them. Ever since the car crash, Artie had hated hospitals, so the fact he'd visited meant even more to Kurt, but the wheelchair bound boy couldn't bear to stay long. The other three left with him, Tina because she was driving Artie home, Mike and Matt because they didn't know Kurt that well and probably felt as though they were intruding.

After they'd left, three other people walked through the door. Rachel, Finn and Quinn. The blonde girl asked how he was doing and his dad answered in a monotone. She replied with a comment about how she'd been praying for him.

For a few minutes, Rachel spoke passionately about the injustice of homophobic attacks and assured them all that her two gay dads had been in touch with their lawyers and other contacts and that they would go to whatever lengths necessary to ensure that Karofsky and his accomplices were expelled and thrown behind bars.

"The nerve of that brainless bully." Rachel seethed and Kurt thought it highly unfair that his hearing became clear when she was talking. "Clearly he's envious of everyone in the Glee club because our talents far outstrip his own. He hasn't even shown his face in school this week the coward."

"Karofsky's on the floor above us." Noah informed them.

From what he could gather, it seemed that when the doctors had forced Noah out of the hospital when Kurt had been brought in, the Jewish boy had gone after Karofsky and injured him enough to put him in the hospital too.

"Are you ok, dude?" Kurt heard Finn say, obviously addressing Noah.

He couldn't make out Noah's response, but he felt him squeeze his hand a little tighter. He was glad that somebody had thought to ask Noah how he was. The girls then asked if his dad was coping.

Then he heard Rachel suggest that she sing a song. To his relief, Noah denied her of the opportunity. He even mentioned something about it being disrespectful of her to come to the hospital in what she was wearing since Kurt would not approve of such an outfit.

His dad mentioned something about coffee before the sound of footsteps indicated his temporary departure. Not long after, Finn and Rachel took their leave but Kurt sensed Quinn on his other side, opposite Noah who was still clutching his hand.

"This isn't your fault." Quinn said gently but firmly.

"I should have protected him." Noah replied, his voice sounding all choked up.

Kurt could only make out a few snatches of the rest of their conversation, but Quinn seemed to be telling Noah he wasn't to blame. He could hear sniffling and sobbing. They were coming from Noah, the sound pained him deeply. He longed to comfort the other boy but he could not. Quinn was trying, but she didn't know what to say to him, she didn't know Noah like Kurt did. Nobody knew Noah like Kurt did.

"Quinny?" Noah asked through his tears, and Kurt's ears perked up as his hearing became good again. "Why did they have to hurt Kurt?"

"I don't know." She replied and Kurt was fairly certain she was lightly stroking his arm. "Anyway, you're asking the wrong questions. Think, Puck, why do you care so much?"

"Because… because he's my friend." Noah answered her.

There was a very distinctive sound of somebody getting slapped. Kurt assumed Quinn had struck Noah across the face.

"Do yourself a favour, Puck." Quinn said and Kurt sensed her standing up and heading away. "Open your eyes."

Tell me that you'll open your eyes

On the fourth day, Mercedes and Santana visited again. They didn't stay for long though. Even Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury stopped by to see how Kurt was doing and Kurt wondered if the guidance counsellor had handed Noah some form of pamphlet to help him cope with a friend being in a coma.

When they left, Kurt made out his dad insisting Noah leave for a while and get some air. He didn't want Noah to go, and by the way Noah squeezed his hand tighter he was sure Noah didn't want to leave either. But other than Kurt, no-one was able to get out of anything Burt Hummel insisted upon. And so it was that Kurt's hand become Noah-less and he was left alone with his dad.

He heard him say things about how Kurt had to be strong, that he had to come back. His dad's voice sounded funny, like he was tired… like he was crying. Kurt didn't want his dad to cry.

His mother was mentioned. The sound of unrestrained sobs met Kurt's ears and there was nothing he could do to ease them or comfort the man he loved with all his heart. His dad was begging him to wake up, saying he just needed to see those eyes, eyes that were so like his mother's.

Tell me that you'll open your eyes

Before Noah returned, his dad's sobs had stopped. The two men by his beside exchanged a few words before his dad left, probably to compose himself properly.

Another tingling sensation sparked through his arm as Noah took his hand again. It felt stronger than the last time and warmer. Concentrating all his being onto the hand holding his own, Kurt found the movement and strength required to squeeze back. He heard Noah's startled intake of breath and he squeezed the Jewish boy's hand again.

"Kurt? Can you here me?" Noah asked frantically. "Come on, baby, look at me. Open your eyes. I know you can, come on."

Tell me that you'll open your eyes

Slowly, his eyelids flickered open and he looked up into Noah's blurry face. A pitiful moan escaped his lips whilst a relieved cry emitted from Noah's.

Everything felt weird but Kurt didn't really care. All that mattered was the hand holding his own and he didn't plan on letting go any time soon.

All this feels strange and untrue

And I won't waste a minute without you

To Be Continued

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Love and Hugs, IceQueenRia xxx