Hi guys.

I'm going to ask you to please read the author's note at the end.

Thank you.

Blaine walked down the aisles of desks, watching everyone write almost frantically. There were a lot of tense shoulders and despaired looks. Most of them were looking at their finals like they were about to burst into flames. Blaine wasn't the only one in this room impatiently waiting for the start of summer break.

He had announced they had twenty minutes left a while ago, so he fished his phone out of his pocket to check the time. But as soon as he glanced at the screen, he forgot all about tests and students: he had ten missed calls from Kurt.

Feeling nervous, he walked to a corner of the room where he could call Kurt back without being too loud or bother anyone, and pressed the green button. Kurt picked up almost immediately, his voice high and desperate.

"Blaine," he managed to say, choking.

"Kurt, what's up? Where are you?" He asked nervously. Was it about Max? Or had his last final gone wrong? He knew how hard Kurt had studied. It just wasn't possible.

"I just got to your apartment," he explained, still sounding choked and strained. "Carole called. My Dad's in the hospital again. I need to get to Ohio. Blaine…"

His name floated in the air between them, at the same time a plea and a prayer. Blaine had never heard anyone say his name in that terrified tone before.

"Call Rachel, ask her if she can bring you a bag of clothes. Can you throw some of mine and Max's in a bag, too? I'll check for plane tickets on the cab," Blaine said, immediately shifting into what Kurt needed him to be. "I'll be there soon, sweetheart. Just hang in there. Tell Sam to stay with you until I get there."

By now he just didn't care if anyone was listening on to his conversation, or if he was disrupting the peace his students needed to finish their finals. He only knew he needed to be somewhere else, with Kurt in his arms so he could comfort him.

He said goodbye quickly after Kurt reassured him that he would be okay and that he would see him soon. Blaine ended the call and turned to his students. They looked at him with a mix of worry and annoyance.

"Sorry, guys. Family emergency," he said. He went to his desk and gathered his stuff. "Time's up. I have to run. If you could all quickly hand in your tests, that would be great."

There was a murmur of discontent but they all complied. Blaine stuffed all the tests in his bag carelessly, and was out of the room before anyone else.

There was only one thought in his head: Kurt needs you. Get to Kurt.

Blaine ran like hell.

The next few hours were a blur. There wasn't a flight to Ohio until that evening, and Kurt was going out of his mind waiting, calling Carole every thirty minutes only to be told there were no news. Blaine had looked into train tickets, but there wasn't a train to Ohio until the next morning, so it was better to just wait for the flight. He purchased the tickets and watched Kurt helplessly: there was nothing else he could do.

Mercifully, their plane left on time. Max seemed to have absorbed their stress and bad energy because he wouldn't stop crying for most of the flight, earning them some nasty looks from the passengers around them. Blaine ignored them and tried to soothe his nephew, to no avail. He wondered if he should have left Max with Sam, but he hadn't been away from the baby for longer than a few hours since Cooper and Sara had died, and he wasn't about to start right now.

Finally, Kurt cuddled Max to his chest and shushed him, and Max stayed there whimpering and unhappy, but quiet. Kurt leaned his head on Blaine's shoulder. They were connected, a tiny little family supporting each other.

"Hey," Blaine whispered after a while, and smiled down at Kurt sweetly. "Did you realize that the semester ended about three hours ago? You're officially not my student anymore."

Kurt's lips lifted at the corners in the ghost of a smile. They had looked forward to this moment for months, and now that it had arrived, it looked nothing like they had imagined it. There hadn't been so much fear and uncertainty. There had only been hope.

After a bumpy landing that sent Max into tears again, they walked out of the plane and into the crowded airport. Blaine could feel Kurt buzzing next to him, all anxiety, so he guided him towards a waiting area and gently pushed him down on an empty seat. He kneeled in front of him so he could look at his eyes.

"Kurt," Blaine said softly. "Stay right here, okay? Stay with Max and the bags. I'll go rent a car and we'll be on our way soon. Will you be okay?"

"Yes, yes," Kurt assured him, eagerly. "Just please hurry."

"I will, sweetheart. I'll be right back," Blaine said, and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before he disappeared into the crowd.

Max glanced up at him, curiously. He seemed terribly uncomfortable and ready to go back home. Kurt felt a little guilty at dragging him along, but knew Blaine wouldn't have left him at home, and Kurt wasn't sure he could go through this again without Blaine keeping him sane and right by his side.

"Are you okay, kiddo?" He asked Max.

A woman walked by holding a Yorkshire dog in her arms, the small dog yapping loudly. Max turned towards it, and a smile appeared on his face, delighted.

"Puppy," he said, pointing at it. "Puppy, Urt."

"That's right," Kurt agreed, and opened his bag to get his phone. "That's a cute little puppy."

Max seemed to need to stretch his legs, so Kurt let him stand next to him as he dialed Carole's number. He waited impatiently until she picked up.

"Hi Kurt."

"Hey, Carole. We're at the airport," he said. "Blaine's getting a car, so we should be there soon. How's Dad?"

There was a pause so long that Kurt thought it would never end. A part of him realized what would be Carole's next words, and suddenly he wished she would just stay quiet, don't ever say anything, so he could live in this limbo in the middle of an airport, with Max's little hand on his knee.

"He's gone," she replied, and now Kurt could hear the tears in her voice, clear as a spring morning and yet dark like the coldest winter night. "I'm so sorry, Kurt."

His chest grew tight. He knew he was breathing but somehow the air wasn't reaching his lungs. His hands began to shake, making it hard to hold the phone. He felt dizzy and sick and wrong, like someone had taken out all his vital organs and then placed them back into his body in any order but the right one.

He's gone, he's gone, he's gone.

"No," he said, and even his voice didn't sound like his own. "No, I haven't… I haven't gotten there yet. I haven't… Carole, no."

"It just happened, like ten minutes ago," Carole said, and every word was like she was stabbing Kurt. "I was about to call you, but I wasn't sure if you were off the plane yet and I… god, Kurt, I didn't know how to tell you."

"No," Kurt repeated, and he wondered if that was the only word he would be able to utter for the rest of his days.

"I'm so sorry, honey," she murmured.

Kurt wanted to say a million things, but he couldn't. He looked helplessly around the airport, at a group of teenagers chatting excitedly, at a kid wearing Mickey Mouse ears and clearly on his way back from Disney. There was a couple smiling and holding each other, in love, like they were about to leave on their honeymoon. There was an old man with a bouquet of flowers, telling the woman sitting next to him that he was waiting for his daughter, who had been abroad for two years.

He looked down at Max, who was staring right back at him, quiet and serious, like he understood exactly how broken Kurt felt. Kurt held his little hand in his.

A group of Asian tourists finally moved their luggage and cleared the area in front of Kurt, and he could see Blaine returning. Even from a distance, Blaine must have been able to see the completely despaired look on Kurt's face, because he suddenly sprang into a jog and was next to them in a matter of seconds.

Kurt couldn't speak. Shaking his head as the tears filled his eyes and the sobs clawed their way out of his throat, he shoved the phone into Blaine's hands.

Blaine kneeled in front of Kurt, and held his hand as he put the phone to his ear. "Carole, this is Blaine." There was a pause as Carole spoke, but no surprise in Blaine's eyes when he heard the news. "I'm so sorry, Carole. Are you okay? Is anyone there with you?"

Kurt glanced around the airport, shocked that a black hole hadn't opened up in the middle of the waiting area. He felt like he was being sucked into one, but everyone around him didn't seem to notice. Didn't they know the world was suddenly emptier, sadder, less bright, less kind?

"Okay, we'll be there as soon as possible," Blaine answered, his voice calm, like a balm for the soul. "Of course. Of course I will," his whiskey eyes were fixed on Kurt as he talked. "Don't worry about it. Just take care of yourself and wait for us, alright?"

When he ended the call, he placed the phone carefully on the empty seat next to Kurt and just looked at him, his gaze full of everything he wanted to say. Kurt covered his face with his hands and cried into them, not able to hold it back any longer.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Blaine whispered. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

"He can't be gone," Kurt said at last. "He can't. I'm not there yet. We didn't… I couldn't…"

"I know," Blaine murmured, and wrapped his arms around him. "I know."

Max seemed a little spooked at seeing Kurt so upset, so he began to cry too. "Urt?" He said, like he wasn't sure if this sad man was the same one he loved, the same one who always had a smile for him.

"Hey cutie," Kurt murmured, drying his tears hastily, but in vain, because they were replaced by fresh ones. He reached for Max and sat him in his lap. "It's okay, Max."

"What do you need, Kurt?" Blaine asked quietly, cupping his cheek in his hand. His eyes were earnest and open, and Kurt was so grateful he was here with him. "Do you need some water? Do you want me to get you something?"

"Let's just go," Kurt said. "Carole is there all alone, I don't… she shouldn't be alone."

"Okay," Blaine nodded. He grabbed the bags and stood up.

Kurt had imagined the drive to the hospital would be much different. He had expected to rush, to ask Blaine to go a little faster, because his father needed him and he had to be there for him. But now the urgency was gone, and it was replaced by the biggest sadness, by a sense of helplessness that Kurt had only felt once before, when Finn had died.

Blaine kept glancing at him, as if checking he wasn't falling to pieces in the seat next to him. Kurt couldn't look at him, and just stared out the window. If he looked at Blaine, if he found any pity there, he truly would fall to pieces. He still couldn't understand why this was happening. He couldn't understand why the universe could be so cruel as to take his father away from him without even giving them a chance to say goodbye.

He never got the chance to say goodbye. Not to his Mom, not to Finn, and now not to his Dad.

Would his Dad have fought harder if Kurt had been there holding his hand and telling him just how much he still needed him? Would he still be here if Kurt hadn't taken so long getting to Ohio?

You can't go, there's so much you need to see yet.

I'm graduating next year, how is it possible that you won't be here to see it?

You've worked so hard your entire life to make sure I was happy and safe and successful and now you won't get to see me become all of that and more?

I'm in love with the most wonderful man on Earth and you were supposed to walk me down the aisle and into his arms.

Kurt closed his eyes tightly and pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the window. He didn't move again for the remainder of the ride.

Carole was waiting for them at the hospital lobby. She was sitting with her head resting against the wall behind her, her eyes closed, looking exhausted. Blaine watched as Kurt approached her, how they seemed to melt into each other as they hugged, holding tightly as if scared they were going to keep losing people if they let go. Blaine stood apart for a moment, allowing them some privacy, wishing there was something he could do to mend their broken hearts, but knowing better than anyone that there were wounds no one could heal.

Once they parted, Kurt walked away a few steps, his back to them. Blaine could see his shoulders shaking before Carole came over to him.

"Hi Blaine," she said with a sad smile. "It's so nice of you to come all the way here again."

"Of course I came," he said, and held her with his free arm, Max clinging to his other side. "I am so sorry, Carole."

"Me too, honey," she replied, pulling away. She caressed Max's back in greeting. "Poor cutie. He looks upset."

"He'll be fine. He's strong, aren't you, Max?" Blaine said, turning to his nephew and bouncing him a little. Max's eyes were fixed on Kurt, as if he was trying to understand what was wrong.

Kurt walked back to them. His cheeks were wet with tears, his eyes too bright. "What happened, Carole?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Kurt. I left him alone for twenty minutes, went to the store, and when I came back, he was on the kitchen floor. I called 911, but by the time we got here, there wasn't anything the doctors could do. His heart rate was practically non-existent. They had to hook him up to a respirator. But he looked bad, wasn't responding…"

Kurt wrapped his arms around himself. Blaine expected him to protest, to fight against reality and say his Dad wouldn't let something as trivial as a heart attack stop him. He expected Kurt to demand to see the doctor so he could get all the answers he needed.

Instead, he said nothing.

Carole sighed. She looked ten years older than the last time Blaine had seen her. "God, there's so much to do. So many people to call... all the paperwork…"

"I don't even know what we are supposed to do," Kurt admitted, and he, unlike Carole, looked like a child, lost and innocent in the face of tragedy.

"I think you both need some rest," Blaine said. "I can take care of the paperwork, and making all the calls you need. You two shouldn't have to worry about a thing."

"Blaine, you don't have to…" Carole started, but Blaine placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I want to. I want to help," he assured her. "So please, let me. I'm here for you."

Carole seemed relieved. Kurt still looked completely lost.

They walked out of the hospital and back to the car, this time with Carole on tow. She sat on the backseat with Max, and Blaine glanced at Kurt quickly before turning the engine on. But Kurt was already staring out the window, and he seemed a million miles away.

"Have you eaten anything, Carole?" Blaine asked as he drove out of the parking lot.

"Not since lunch," she replied. "But I'm fine, Blaine. Don't you worry about that."

"Kurt, sweetheart, you haven't eaten since breakfast either," Blaine said, his voice soft, as if he was talking to a baby animal that would easily startle if he raised his voice. "Is there anywhere we can pick up some food?"

"I'm not hungry," Kurt murmured. "As long as there's something for Max at the house, we'll be fine."

"I've already been buying stuff for Max, since you were going to be here next week anyway…" Carole said, and the plans they had made seemed so distant now, like they belonged to a different life altogether. "And there should be enough for us, as well. Blaine's right, Kurt. You need to eat."

Kurt didn't say anything.

The house was dark and quiet when they arrived. As soon as the front door was opened, Kurt headed up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Blaine understood his need to be alone, but it still concerned him. He wanted to call after him. He wanted to follow him, hold him and promise him everything would be alright.

But he knew better than to make empty promises.

They were no strangers to loss and heartbreak.

"God, that boy," Carole whispered, her eyes fixed on the spot where Kurt had disappeared. "I always knew this would be too hard on him. Come on, Blaine, let's fix Max some dinner."

"I can do it, Carole. Just tell me where everything is, and I'll take care of it. You can go to bed, if you want," he said, letting Max down, who immediately grabbed onto his pants and followed him.

"I should start calling the family," she said, and her tone made it clear there was nothing she wanted to do less. "And get the funeral arrangements ready…"

Blaine grabbed her hand. He wished he could have met this woman in different circumstances, but their first two encounters had been due to Burt ending in the hospital. "You're dealing with enough. I'll take care of the funeral arrangements and call whoever you want me to. That's why I'm here, to help you and Kurt. So whatever you need me to do, just say the word, and I'm on it."

Carole smiled at him, just the ghost of a smile. "I'm so happy Kurt has you. Okay, I really appreciate it, Blaine. But I think I should call the family myself."

"Alright," Blaine agreed.

Carole showed him where the food she had bought for Max was. Blaine grabbed a bag of star-shaped chicken nuggets and a few veggies. He gave Max his backpack, who immediately emptied it on the kitchen floor to look for his toys, and got to work, cutting up the veggies in sticks and baking the nuggets. He could hear Carole speaking softly in the living room, calling her relatives, Burt's friends, and everyone else who needed to know.

While Max ate, Blaine called the funeral home and made the arrangements for the next day. He paid attention to any sound that may come from upstairs, waiting to see if Kurt came back down, but he didn't.

Carole walked back into the kitchen, eyes red from crying, when Max was almost done eating. "Well, that's done. His best friend and my sister will take care of calling anyone I forgot about."

"I already called the funerary," Blaine said. "Should I order flowers? What would you like, Carole?"

"No, no flowers," Carole sighed. "He wouldn't want that. He'd say it was a waste. But I do want to get a small bouquet for the cemetery." She must have read the question in Blaine's face. "He'll be buried with Elizabeth, you know, Kurt's mom. Finn and Christopher, my first husband, are nearby. So they can all be together now."

God, the pain in her voice was killing him. He understood it so intimately, and yet he wished he could absorb it all for himself, all of her pain, and especially all of Kurt's.

"I'm sorry," he said. "And I know it sounds so useless to hear that. I wish there was more I could do."

"Oh, honey, you're being wonderful," she said, patting his hand.

Max dropped the carrot stick he had been chewing on and looked up at his uncle. "Baine, Urt?"

"He's upstairs, kiddo. We'll go see him after you're done with dinner," Blaine explained, and Max frowned like he wasn't okay with that and wanted to be taken to Kurt right now. "Actually, I'd like to check on him. Would you mind watching Max for a moment? I'll be right back."

"Of course, go ahead," Carole said.

Kurt's bedroom door was closed, just as Blaine had expected to find it. He knocked softly and waited, but there was no response. He knocked a second time.

"Kurt?" He said. "Sweetheart, it's me. Can I please come in? Kurt?"

Worried, and wondering if Kurt had fallen asleep, Blaine opened the door quietly and looked inside the room. Kurt hadn't bothered turning any lights on either, but the light coming from the street through the windows fell right on the bed. Blaine walked inside and sat on the edge of the mattress. He pressed his hand to Kurt's back, and found it was shaking with repressed sobs.

Like shocked back into movement by Blaine's touch, Kurt suddenly sat up and threw himself into Blaine's arms, where he cried so desperately that Blaine was surprised he didn't fall into pieces. There were a million little comforts that Blaine wanted to whisper in his ear, but he didn't. He knew whatever he said would sound hollow, meaningless.

After a while, Kurt pulled away, visibly exhausted and drained. "God, I shouldn't be hiding here. I should be downstairs with Carole. How is she?"

"Understandably sad, but she's strong. One look at her and you can tell," Blaine replied, rubbing Kurt's back slowly, letting him lean against him. "Kurt, I've been arranging things for the funeral. Is there anything you would like? Anything your Dad ever mentioned to you?"

Kurt shook his head. "Not really. He wanted to be buried with my Mom, but that's about it. I never really… I never really wanted to talk about those things with him. If he let any instructions, he gave them to Carole."

"Yeah, she already told me."

"I can't believe this is happening," Kurt sniffed, and reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand. "I can't believe I didn't make it on time. I can't believe I didn't get to talk to him one last time…" He shook his head again, and then looked up at Blaine, his eyes almost grey and shining with tears. "Do you know what our last conversation was about? He texted me to ask me how to get pizza sauce stains off a shirt, and all I told him was that he shouldn't even be eating pizza in the first place." A little sob escaped from Kurt's throat. "Can you believe it? The last thing I told him was the stupidest little reprimand in the whole world. I didn't even give him the answer he needed. I just treated him like he was a naughty kid who didn't do anything right."

"Kurt, your Dad knew how much you loved him," Blaine said. "He never doubted that for a second. I've never met anyone who had that kind of relationship with their parents. What you two had was so unique."

"I should have been here," Kurt whispered.

Blaine kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry, love. I really am."

Kurt swallowed, like it was physically challenging to hold back his sobs. "Where's Max?"

"He was finishing up dinner. I left him with Carole for a moment," he replied. "I should go get him. Do you want something to eat? I made more than enough chicken nuggets."

"I'm not hungry," Kurt said. "But can you and Max stay here with me? I really want to be with you guys."

"Of course, Kurt. We're not going anywhere," Blaine said, and meant it more than he had ever meant anything in his life.

I knew while I was writing this that everyone would hate me. I know hurting or killing Burt in any fic is something terrible - we're all so fond of him, and it's obvious why.

But in the end, I had to do it like this, because somehow this story took a more personal turn, and Kurt's story became my story after my Dad passed away. Much of what he's going through in this chapter, many of the elements of Burt's passing, and a lot of what will happen next is based on what I went through.

I know many people will find this strange, that I take something so personal and use it in a fanfiction. But the truth is that I needed to get it out somehow, to do some catharsis, and writing fanfic has been my refuge and my therapy for many, many years now.

Incredibly, because I definitely did not plan to do this, I'm posting this just before Father's Day. It's my second Father's Day without my Dad, and I still miss him like hell, every single day, and I wish things could be different. I wish I could have done things differently, just like Kurt. So, please, even if you're mad at me for this, if your Dad is still around, give him a huge hug tomorrow, and tell him you love him. And if you, like me, have lost your Dad, for whatever reason (sickness, accidents, or even if he's still around but things aren't right between you two) then know I'm hugging you.

See you next week,

L.-