Hi guys.

I wondered if updating was the right thing to do after the news we got yesterday. I'm sure that, regardless of what we thought about Mark, learning of his death had some sort of impact on all of us who loved Glee. But then I realized some people might need the comfort, the distraction, and if in any way my fics can help in a moment like this, then I have to update.

I am a little sad and a little confused. Mark did some very terrible things, and he was a very troubled man, especially in the past year or so. I don't know what went wrong with him, but I know that when he was still on Glee, when he gave life to Puck, he brought me immense joy week after week, and that's something I can't ignore. I'm disappointed in what he did with his life after the show, the crimes he committed (unforgiveable things), but today I'm grieving for the actor and character who was part of something that made me so happy when I needed it most. Regardless of your thoughts on Mark, please give the people who loved him time and space to grieve and don't contribute to their pain. We all understand what he did wrong. That doesn't mean we should spread more negativity out into a world that has plenty of it.

That said, I feel it's necessary to warn you guys that there are (brief) mentions of Finn in this chapter. If you feel you can't deal with it right now, don't read it.

Thank you for your comments on the last chapter. You guys keep giving me reasons to smile.

I own nothing.

For a reason he couldn't even try to explain to himself, Kurt avoided Professor Anderson for the next few weeks. Whenever he asked a question in class, even if he looked at Kurt, sure that he would know the answer, Kurt looked the other way and pretended to be incredibly interested in the things his classmates had to say.

He knew he was being silly, but he felt as if he had crossed some sort of invisible line that divided students from teachers, as if he had been inappropriate. Well, maybe the hand-touching had been a little inappropriate, but had his sentiments, which had been entirely sincere, been too out of place?

Whatever the reasoning behind it, Kurt decided to take some distance from it. And in any case, he had too much to worry about to add that to the pile.

By mid-October, Kurt had attended what seemed like endless job interviews. He finally managed to find a position in a small coffee shop not too far from campus called The Happy Bean. The logo was a despicably cheerful coffee bean with legs and a top hat. It didn't pay as much as his other job, and he mostly had the closing shift, which meant he got home really late, but it was something. Deep down inside, he knew if his circumstances had been any different, he wouldn't have taken the offer, but now he was desperate.

"I know you're trying to save me stress, but knowing you are stressed has exactly the opposite effect," his father said when Kurt told him about the new job. "You shouldn't be slaving yourself at two jobs and doing a full class schedule, Kurt. Isn't college the time when you're supposed to have fun? Be careless?"

"Since when do you want me to be careless?" Kurt rolled his eyes even if his dad couldn't see him. "I'm fine, Dad. This is important to me."

Burt Hummel couldn't really argue with his son, because he knew how stubborn Kurt could be. So he simply sighed. "Okay. But the minute it's too much for you…"

"Of course," Kurt agreed, but he had his fingers crossed. He knew his family was struggling. He wasn't going to quit and put even more strain on them.

After a couple of weeks on the new job, he realized he was barely at home. He spent whatever time he had between jobs at the library, trying to catch up on reading or writing papers. Kurt hoped he wouldn't have to admit his dad was right. He just needed to get used to his new routine.

"Hi!" A voice startled him out of his thoughts. He looked up and found Rachel beaming at him from the other side of the counter.

He was at The Happy Bean, and it was already eight o'clock in the evening. The coffee shop was relatively empty, and he was in charge of making the drinks today. He noticed Rachel was staring down at his uniform, which he had managed to hide from her until this very moment. It was an orange and brown monstrosity, complete with an inexplicable sun visor. It didn't go with his skin tone at all. Actually, it didn't go with anyone's skin tone, it was that awful.

"Hey," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just had rehearsal and was on my way home, but decided to stop for a visit. I have barely seen you in the past few days," she said, leaning against the counter to chat. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Just wish it was closing time already," he sighed. From the end of the counter, the girl at the cash register called out a cappuccino, so he got to work as he talked to Rachel. "I have to finish a paper due tomorrow."

"Your Dad called me yesterday," Rachel said, her face tinged with worry. "He's scared you're working too hard. I'm afraid he's right, Kurt."

"Oh Rach, please don't start with me," Kurt muttered, tiredly. He had no time for another lecture. "I'm fine, and you know I need the money. I can't just quit. And if you talk to my Dad again, you will tell him I'm doing great, and that he has nothing to worry about. Don't you dare make him stress even more."

Rachel raised her hands as if showing her innocence and good will. "Whatever you say. I'm going home now. It's getting cold and I think I want some soup. Do you want me to save you some?"

Kurt's stomach growled. He hadn't had anything to eat since before noon. "God, yes. Please."

"Okay. See you later," Rachel air-blew a kiss to him and Kurt returned his attention to his work. He heard a click and saw a blinding flash. He looked back at the counter and found Rachel with her phone pointing at him. "Sorry. Couldn't resist. That uniform's an abomination. Bye Kurt!"

She fled before Kurt could even show her the middle finger.

Kurt was already on his way to his Modern Lit class when his phone vibrated with an email notification. He stopped at a corner to wait for the red light to cross the street and used the opportunity to read it.

From: blaine . anderson at nyu . edu

Subject: Class cancelled

Hello everyone,

Today's class has been cancelled due to personal reasons. I'm sorry it's so last minute – I wouldn't cancel unless it was absolutely necessary.

Regards,

Blaine.

Kurt blinked at his phone a few times. Part of him was immediately relieved for the next two hours of freedom – it was a welcomed and much needed time he could use for a nap, or maybe for finishing up yet another paper due soon.

But he also frowned, and a small voice in the back of his head wondered if something was wrong. In the years he had known Professor Anderson, he had never cancelled a class. Kurt still remembered the day he showed up with a high fever in his pajamas, looking like he had caught the plague. All the students had taken seats at the very back of the classroom, afraid to get sick so close to winter break.

He wondered if Max was okay. The poor little cutie. Kurt's heart melted just thinking of him.

Still, there was nothing he could do. He looked up from the phone and found the light was now red. But he turned on his heels and headed in the opposite direction.

A nap sounded heavenly right now.

Blaine pressed send and sat back in his chair. He hated cancelling classes, and he hated even more when he couldn't do it in advance. He hoped all his students would get the message on time and take advantage of the unexpected time off.

He turned around to look at Max, who was sitting on the floor on top of his favorite play mat, sucking thoughtfully on a teddy bear paw as he looked at the television, where one of his favorite cartoons was playing. There was an insistent little song the characters did at least once every episode and Blaine knew it would be stuck in his head for weeks.

Layla had called not even half an hour ago. She had suddenly remembered that she needed to let him know she had a new job and wouldn't have time to take care of Max anymore. Blaine felt like he was about to get an aneurism as she talked. She hadn't been a perfect babysitter, but Max didn't cry all the time with her, and that was an improvement from many other candidates he had interviewed. Now he was screwed, and truly had no idea what he was going to do.

He needed someone he could trust enough to leave his nephew with. Someone with whom Max didn't wail non-stop. Someone who was responsible. It wasn't an extremely long list of requisites, and it still was very hard to meet all of them.

The truth was Max was the most precious thing Blaine had in his life. He was the only thing he had left from his brother. Max had suffered enough losing his mother and father in one night, and didn't deserve to be left with the first person who was available to watch him while Blaine worked.

The weight on Blaine's shoulders was permanent. There was always something adding to it. He just wished there was a simple answer to at least one of the many problems in his life.

A few days later, Blaine walked into his apartment and found Sam laying on the couch, Max sleeping peacefully on top of him, while a basketball game was playing quietly on the television. As Blaine put his bag down, Sam observed him, frowning.

"Alright, that's it," he said, sternly but in a low voice as not to wake Max. "Don't take another step into this apartment."

Blaine blinked in confusion. "What?"

"You're not allowed to come home," Sam said.

That didn't make things any clearer for Blaine. "Have you lost your mind? What are you talking about?"

"Blaine, for the past few months you have only left your house to go to work or run errands. Your face depresses me. Seriously," Sam muttered, and Blaine knew he didn't mean to be hurtful, but his words still stung.

"Thanks, Sam."

"You know what I mean. I'm your friend. I'm worried. You can't be a slave in your own life. Now, I have nothing to do tonight, so I can stay here and watch Max for a while longer. Why don't you go out? Go have a beer somewhere, go to the movies, I don't know. Go hook up with a guy, it's been forever."

"Sam!" Blaine exclaimed. "It's none of your business if I…"

"Of course it is. Who's going to take care of you if not me?" Sam retorted. "Please. Do it for me. Go have some fun."

"I have papers to grade, I can't…" Blaine protested, but Sam was clearly not going to accept any excuses. "You're being silly."

"I'm not. I'm worried, which is completely rational," Sam carefully stood up, making sure the movement didn't wake Max.

"But it's almost time for dinner. Max…"

"I'm perfectly capable of making dinner for Max. Get. Out." Sam walked towards the front door and opened it again, looking pointedly at Blaine.

Realizing he had no saying in this, Blaine sighed, picked up his bag again, and left the apartment.

He had absolutely no clue of where he could go.

It had been a long day, and Kurt was glad that his shift was over. He was on his way to the subway when he got a message from Rachel. She had forgotten to pick up milk and other stuff at the grocery store today, and asked if he could do it instead. With a frustrated sigh, Kurt made a mental note to have a chat with Rachel – she had the habit of "forgetting" to go grocery shopping at least twice a week.

He knew there was a supermarket just a few blocks from there, and he preferred that one to the one close to his apartment in Bushwick, so he made a little detour.

Kurt pushed the cart down the aisles, grabbing bottles of milk and cartons of eggs, as he tried to decide what he wanted to have for dinner. He had to resist the temptation to grab some frozen pizzas: he had been eating junk food too often lately, with the little time he had to cook. Instead, he turned towards the vegetables section and grabbed a few things to make some salad.

He was trying to decide what pasta he was in the mood for when he turned at a corner and collided against a cart coming in the opposite direction.

"Oh my goodness! I'm sorry, I didn't see you…"

"It's fine, I was distracted anyway… Kurt?"

Kurt looked up and found Professor Anderson standing right in front of him. "Oh hey! How are you, Mr. Anderson?"

It was probably a stupid question, because the man looked even more exhausted than usual. His cart had several packs of diapers and cans of formula.

"I'm good, thank you. How have you been?" Professor Anderson said politely.

"I'm fine," Kurt replied, just as politely. Without noticing, they both pushed their carts in the same direction. "I was surprised you cancelled class this week. I hope everything's fine with Max?" He knew he was prying but he couldn't help it.

"Oh, yes, he's doing great," Mr. Anderson said, smiling a little as if to reassure him. "Just had a babysitting problem. My friend Sam is helping me now, and I have a few people to interview tomorrow, so hopefully there will be no more cancelled classes."

"That's good," Kurt nodded. "I hope it works out."

"Me too." Professor Anderson stopped and grabbed a box of pasta from a shelf. Kurt reached for one on a lower shelf, which was a little cheaper. "Do you live around here?"

"No, I live in Bushwick, but I just left work, and my roommate forgot to go grocery shopping again," Kurt rolled his eyes. "So here I am."

"I thought you worked at the Starbucks near the park?" Professor Anderson asked in confusion.

"Oh yeah, I do. This is a second job. It's another coffee shop, so it's not very impressive, but…" Kurt shrugged as they stopped to look at canned tomato sauce. "It helps, I guess."

Professor Anderson was frowning down at a can, but Kurt didn't think there was anything too worrying about Marinara sauce. "Aren't you doing a full schedule this semester? Isn't it too overwhelming with two jobs?"

Kurt chuckled. "My dad said pretty much the same thing." He sighed. "The truth is my family is in a delicate financial situation at the moment, so I'm trying to relieve my dad from some of my expenses. He had a third heart attack this summer and hospital bills aren't cheap."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Professor Anderson said in a serious but soft voice. "Is he doing okay now?"

"As okay as possible, I guess. It's difficult to keep him eating healthy and he should avoid any kind of stress, but it's not easy," Kurt said. They turned into a new aisle and he grabbed some bread. "He also insists on going back to work, which he shouldn't. He owns a garage, but both my stepmom and I know he won't be happy doing a desk job. He'll be sliding under cars as soon as we look the other way."

There was a little smile on Professor Anderson's lips when Kurt looked at him. "He sounds just as stubborn as his son."

Kurt laughed.

Professor Anderson needed some vegetables, so Kurt turned back to the produce section with him. For some reason, it seemed like they were both silently grateful for the company.

"You know, I…" Kurt began saying, but stopped.

"What is it?" Mr. Anderson asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Nothing. It's silly," Kurt suddenly seemed incredibly interested in the price of sweet potatoes.

Professor Anderson leaned next to him, looking him in the eyes. "You can tell me," he said, and he sounded so earnest that it almost made Kurt blush.

"I just feel like I need to apologize, you know, for the other day at the cafeteria? I feel like I was inappropriate," Kurt said.

Mr. Anderson's face softened. "Kurt, you weren't inappropriate. You were very, very kind, and I appreciate it." There was a knot in Kurt's stomach, and he had no idea where it came from. "I don't usually… you know, talk much about my brother or what happened."

"I understand," Kurt said. "My brother died, too."

Professor Anderson's eyes widened slightly. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"He was eighteen; we had just graduated high school. Finn was my stepbrother, but we went through so much together, it was as if the same blood ran through our veins," Kurt explained, and he didn't know where any of this was coming from. "It was completely unexpected, of course. My stepmom and my dad never recovered, I think. I still think about him every day."

"That's terrible," Professor Anderson muttered. "He was so young…"

"No matter what age they are, they're always too young, aren't they? We're not ready to let anyone we love go," Kurt murmured, and now his eyes felt wet. He didn't mean to get so overwhelmed.

"You're right," Mr. Anderson nodded slowly.

For a moment, they were quiet. They didn't move. Out of nowhere, in front of them, there was someone who understood in a way no one else ever had.

After a few seconds, they began walking down the aisle again, pushing their carts slowly. Every now and then, one of them would pick something from a shelf and put it in the cart, and that was all. They just kept each other company, as if the other knew how much they needed it.

"Cooper was ten years older than me," Professor Anderson said after a while. "We never really saw eye to eye. He had his head stuck in his ass for most of my childhood. But when I really needed him, he stood up, he stood by me. I just… I miss him, you know? Like there's a piece of me that's suddenly gone."

"Yeah, that's how it feels," Kurt said sadly. "I don't think it ever goes away. It becomes manageable, yes, but it's not less painful."

"What truly kills me is that Max won't remember his parents, that he'll have to grow up without them, and that, to be honest, I'm just a poor substitute of them," Professor Anderson said, as they headed to the cashier.

Kurt stopped, and placed his hand on top of Mr. Anderson's on the cart's handle. "I know I said this already, but you're doing an amazing job. Max loves you, I could see that in the very little time I spent with him. And you talk about your brother with so much love… I can't imagine you letting him grow up without knowing everything there is to know about his parents. He'll feel like they were there all along through your stories of them. Don't push the memories into a box when they feel too painful," Kurt said, as he thought of the days after his mom had died and how his father hadn't been able to talk about her for a long time. "Share them with him. That's the best thing you can do."

Professor Anderson's eyes were shinning, so bright under the artificial light inside the supermarket. For a moment, Kurt got lost in them, until he remembered where they were, who they were. He removed his hand.

"And here I go being inappropriate again," he chuckled, awkwardly. "I've never been a touchy-feely guy; I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm so sorry."

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Kurt," Mr. Anderson said, and Kurt realized he liked the sound of his name in his voice… which was a very, very weird thought to have. "You actually turned a pretty terrible evening into a good one. I need to thank you."

Kurt was grateful the cashier was now ready for them, because he had no idea how to reply to that. Professor Anderson insisted that Kurt should go first, so he did, and then quietly and patiently waited until he had also paid for his purchases.

"I should go before my roommate thinks I got murdered on the way home," Kurt said, even though he felt sad to say goodbye. "She is the biggest drama queen I know."

Professor Anderson chuckled. "Goodbye, Kurt. It was nice to see you."

"You too. I hope your babysitting problem gets solved soon," Kurt answered, as he waved and headed to the exit.

"Thank you."

Kurt hurried down the street towards the subway station. This had to be the most interesting trip to the grocery store of his entire life. Maybe when he got home, he wouldn't reprimand Rachel about forgetting the milk again.

Blaine walked out of the supermarket and leaned against the wall for a moment. He could still see Kurt walking away, hurrying up to cross the street before the light turned back to green.

He hadn't been able to talk about Cooper, or about any that had happened in the past few months, not even with Sam, until now. It hadn't been the longest of conversations, but still, it had felt so liberating talking to someone who truly understood everything he was feeling. Kurt was so mature for his age, a lot more than most of his students, and Blaine couldn't help but feel enthralled when he spoke.

When Sam had kicked him out of his own apartment earlier, Blaine had had no idea of what to do. He didn't feel like having fun – how could he have fun? There was nothing appealing about going to the movies or having a beer at a random bar, and especially he could find nothing appealing about picking up a stranger to hook up with. He knew at some point he would feel like going out there again, but right now, everything was too overwhelming. He wasn't over it yet. It was still too shocking, to think that he wouldn't see Cooper and Sara ever again. So instead, he had decided to do something productive until he was allowed back into his home. He had run out of diapers and formula that morning, so grocery shopping seemed like the most sensible option.

If only he had known he was getting so much more out of it than baby food and lettuce.

It shouldn't have felt like this, he thought, talking to a student. He should have felt awkward sharing pieces of his life with him.

Instead, he felt as if he could have shared every secret he had ever had with Kurt Hummel, and there was something very terrifying about that thought.

I hope you guys liked this chapter. I can't wait to hear your thoughts on it, so hit me with a review. And if you need to talk about Mark, I'm here as well, but as I said in the note above, please avoid the negativity.

As of next week, I will begin to update regularly on Saturdays until the story is completed. So next chapter will be up on Saturday February 10th. If for some reason I need to change the day of the update, I will let you guys know on Twitter (I'm TheFicWhisperer over there).

Sending huge hugs to you all.

Love,

L.-