A/N: Sorry, I know this chapter is kind of an abrupt change from the last one. I just couldn't get any of the transition scenes from that one to this one to work. Also, it's pretty short. But after this one, I promise there will be a Kurt/Sam chapter so they can reconcile.

Part Thirteen

Burt shifted uncomfortably in his chair. After two weeks, Kurt was almost finished with his in-patient therapy. Burt, at the suggestion of Kurt's counselor, had been to a couple of solo sessions himself. This was their third session together. It wasn't going well.

Kurt sat directly across from him, red eyed and sniffling, hands folded on top of his crossed legs. Not looking at his dad. Burt Hummel wanted to grab Kurt's shoulders, shake some sense into him and ask what the hell he had been thinking. He'd expected to feel relieved that Kurt had survived. He hadn't been prepared to deal with the anger that followed. He didn't hate Kurt. Didn't think he could ever hate him. But every time he thought about almost losing him, he was furious.

Burt had thought a lot about the therapist's suggestion, that he needed to let Kurt know how he felt without lashing out at him.

"You tried to take the most important thing in the world away from me."

"So did you, Dad."

It took a moment for Kurt's softly spoken words to sink in. Burt shook his head, genuinely puzzled. Sure, maybe he could have taken better care of himself but he hadn't planned on having a heart attack. It just happened. Kurt knew that.

"I didn't try to kill myself."

Kurt looked at him sharply. "You don't exercise. You don't eat well. If I didn't remind you, you wouldn't take your medicine." He became quiet. "I watch you killing yourself every day."

Burt fell silent, not knowing what to say to that. He glanced helplessly at Dr. Merrill. She gave him an encouraging nod. "You're doing fine. Keep going."

"It's my job to protect you. To make sure you got a safe place to come home to."

"You are my safe place."

Burt rubbed his eyes, fighting back tears. "What dad expects to bury his kid?"

He stood up and paced, finally locking his fists on the back of his chair and looking at Kurt directly. "You are 16. You should be at the mall shopping with Mercedes."

"Really?" Kurt crossed his arms tightly to his chest. Bitterness laced his words. "Did you think planning your funeral would be just another shopping spree for me? That I would splurge on a beautiful dark cherry casket with etched bronze trim and pale gold fleur de lis silk and not be affected by what it signifies? You'll be gone." Kurt's voice hardened, raw with emotion. "But don't worry, Dad, you'll look fabulous when leave me alone!" He choked back tears on the last word.

Burt reached out but Kurt pulled away, one finger held up in warning.

"Hey, you think if you were gone I wouldn't be alone, too?"

"You'll have Finn."

Burt threw the chair into the wall. Immediately, Dr. Merrill came from behind her desk and stood protectively by Kurt.

Burt stood over Kurt, jabbing a finger at him.

"Don't smart mouth me, kiddo. You got problems? Then grow a pair and deal with them. You got a good life. I gave you a great life. Who the hell are you to piss on that and throw it away?"

He stormed out, slamming the door.

Dr. Merrill picked up the chair, set it across from Kurt and sat down, watching his reaction.

"You okay, Kurt?"

Kurt, wide eyed and shaken, nodded.

The doctor grabbed her notepad from the desk and flipped it back a couple of pages.

"Your dad's personality changes started after his heart attack?"

"Yes."

"Irritability, anger, short term memory loss. Withdrawn. His doctors explained those can be common side effects for heart patients?"

"Yes."

Dr. Merrill read through her notes before tossing them back onto her desk and fixing Kurt with a steady gaze.

"Your dad may never go back to being the dad you remember."

Kurt sniffled. "I know."

"You've already lost your mom and now it feels like you're losing your dad, too. It's okay to be angry. It's okay to grieve." Kurt brushed away the tears that threatened. "It's not okay to treat pills like they're hors d'oeuvres." Dr. Merrill's phone rang. She glanced at the text message that came through then flipped it shut and continued her session with Kurt.

"Have you talked to anyone about what's going on?"

"Sam."

"Anyone else?"

"No."

"Why not?" The therapist watched as Kurt suddenly occupied himself with smoothing the wrinkles from his pants leg. "What do you think would happen if you told someone? If you told Carole?" Kurt frowned and rubbed harder at a stubborn spot. "You think your dad would be embarrassed by how he's been acting?" Kurt paused, then nodded. "And you'd do anything to protect your dad."

Kurt shrugged, "I love him."

Dr. Merrill studied Kurt. "Okay. So, what's our plan?"

"I go home with Carole and Finn today."

"You're still good with that?" Kurt nodded. "And I'm going to make some phone calls and get some things in place for you and your dad." She put a hand on Kurt's knee. "Kurt?"

"Hm?"

"It will get better." Dr. Merrill smiled. "And you have a visitor."

"Mercedes?" Kurt assumed she would be bringing his clothes so he could leave.

"Not unless Mercedes is a blonde quarterback for McKinley High."