A.N. Again... have faith. I know most of you are pissed mixed with heartbroken...things will get better.

Thank you you to all the reviewers! You guys rock.

Special thanks to my beta again!

Monday January 17, 2011

7:09 P.M.

Kurt woke up in his bed. His father was seated next to him patting his face.

"Kurt?" The boy's eyes finally opened just in time to hear a crash from the junkyard adjacent to the house and attached to their garage.

Kurt sat up abruptly and let out a gasp, "It was a dream. Thank God." He glanced at his father and spoke, "You would not believe the nightmare I had."

"Son…" His father's eyes were red and watery, "Son you didn't have a nightmare. You passed out at the school."

Kurt's eyes widened, "No… but it has to have been a nightmare. Rachel can't be… she isn't. No. Just no." Kurt stood from his bed and ran a hand through his hair, for the first time in years not caring that he might be mussing it up.

His dad stood, "Kurt." He placed his hands on Kurt's shoulders, "They declared her dead just after her fathers got there." Kurt let out a whimper and Burt Hummel's face contorted into a grimace. He pulled his son to him in a tight hug.

"Daddy…" Kurt clutched at his father and squeezed his eyes shut, if Rachel was really dead than that meant… Her time of death wasn't a nightmare either. Guilt and grief warred within him for top billing. She had been alive. When he had gone into the restroom the first time Rachel had been alive. He let out a sob as his father held him tighter.

There was another crash from the outside.

Kurt pulled away, "What is that?"

Burt's face fell further, "Finn. He's breaking things outside."

Kurt's eyes widened, "We should check on him." Burt looked surprised but nodded along with his son. The two Hummel men ascended the stairs though Kurt's grip on Burt's arm remained. They exited the house and made their way to the gated junkyard. Another crash reverberated through the yard. Carole Hummel, formerly Hudson, stood silently at the open gate.

Burt moved forward and wrapped an arm around Carole's shoulders. Finn's mother was crying silently as she watched her son tear apart a car. The tall boy had a sledge hammer in hand and seemed intent on doing as much damage as possible. His face was screwed up in agony as he swung again and again. Burt, Carole and Kurt watched silently as Finn vented his anger.

"He's going to hurt himself." Kurt's head whipped around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. Quinn and Sam stood, slightly apart.

"Quinn's right. Someone should stop him." Sam's voice was soft but firm.

Carole shook her head, "He needs this."

Quinn's eyes were soft as she nodded, "I guess. It's healthier than Puck at least. Brittany and Santana are still with him but from what Brittany told me Santana has moved past shocked and right into furious."

Kurt's eyes widened, "Puck and Santana will fuel each other."

Quinn replied, "I know."

Another loud crash sounded as Finn landed a particularly heavy blow to one of the windows. The tall boy grunted as glass rained over him. He paused and the group watched as his shoulders started to shake. Finn dropped the sledge hammer and turned. His eyes were wet with tears as he walked towards the group.

Carole spoke, "Finn?"

Finn stopped and drew in a breath, making a visible effort to contain his tears, "Rachel… wouldn't like me destroying something." His lowered his head and continued inside.

Carole squeezed Burt's arm, "I should follow him."

Burt nodded, "Go sweetheart." Carole gave Burt a sad smile and hurried after Finn.

Kurt looked at Sam, "Did you… did you bring me home?" Sam opened his arms and Kurt flew into them.

As he held Kurt he replied, "Yeah. Quinn and I dropped you and Finn off, and then we left to drop off Mercedes."

Kurt held on as tight as he could as he whispered his thanks.

Softly he gasped out, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Sam's arms tightened, "Oh Kurt, it isn't your fault.

Kurt's eyes clenched shut.

Tuesday January 18, 2011

8:25 A.M.

Kurt and Carole had offered to let Kurt and Finn stay home. Kurt had been inclined to take them up on the offer. Finn had quietly replied that Rachel wouldn't approve of them missing school. Education was essential to a future star after all. The quarterback and the kicker arrived together, and had separated for their classes after a brief moment of unconcealed heartbreak from Finn.

"Kurt…" Finn trailed off as the two boys prepared to go their separate ways.

Kurt had turned back, "Yes Finn?"

Finn's eyes were wide and startled, "Rachel is… was in my first class." He choked up a little. He looked so lost that Kurt did the only thing he could think of and hugged him. Finn returned the hug without hesitation. After a moment the warning bell rang and the two boys pulled apart.

"Thanks Kurt." Finn turned back down the hall and slowly, almost reluctantly made his way to his first period.

10:05 A.M.

Second period was brutal for Kurt. He and Rachel had shared the period this year with Brittany. The tall blonde was not any better at Spanish this year and had often relied on Rachel for the answers. Kurt himself was nowhere near as proficient as Rachel which had absolved him of any responsibility to help Brittany. Until now. Brittany had sat in her chair for three minutes and stared at Rachel's empty chair next to her. Almost as if the blonde Cheerio was trying to will Rachel to appear. When Mr. Schue finally came in and began taking role Brittany has raised her hand, "Mr. Schue."

Mr. Schue, whose eyes were red and whose voice was slightly hoarse, responded, "Yes Brittany?"

Brittany's voice was uncertain, "Rachel isn't here."

Mr. Schue nodded and gently replied, "I know Brittany."

In a small voice Brittany asked, "Can I sit next to Kurt? Rachel's chair feels lonely and my chair can keep it company."

Mr. Schue didn't bat an eyelash, "Of course Brittany, I'm sure Rachel's chair is glad for the company." There were no snickers from the class as Brittany got up and made her way to the chair next to Kurt, in fact some of the kids even looked sympathetic.

As Mr. Schue took roll, after a brief stumble over Rachel's name, Brittany quietly asked, "Will you help me Kurt?"

"Yeah Britt. I'll help."

12:45 P.M.

Lunch had been a silent affair. Tina and Mercedes still looked like they would burst into tears at any moment.

Finn had arrived at the table with his tray and had been halfway to offering his veggies to Rachel before he stopped cold. He sat stunned for the rest of lunch.

Mike and Matt, normally quiet, but always happy and smiling, both looked a little lost. Their normal silent conversation was nonexistent as they picked at their food.

Brittany hadn't bothered to get a tray, so as to keep up the charade that she ate lunch. She simply sat with her head on Santana's shoulder and stared into space. Santana for her part was glaring at anyone who was not part of the club that came within ten feet of the table. Her glare was poisonous and effective in keeping the rest of the student body at bay.

Artie was fiddling with his camera. The wheelchair bound boy had a strange mix of grief and guilt written on his face. Kurt would later learn that Rachel had asked repeatedly to borrow the camera and Artie had forgotten it no less than six times.

Quinn's eyes, which had been surprisingly red, were sad and troubled. Every couple of minutes the former Cheerio would glance towards Rachel's now vacant spot. She did it so frequently that her face bore an almost cyclical expression of surprise, then grief, then longing. It made Kurt curious and sad at the same time.

Sam had held his hand all through lunch, after a muttered hello and a vehement declaration that English sucked. Sam had shared A.P. English with Rachel. It had come as quite a surprise to Kurt that his boyfriend was not only a closeted gay guy, but also a closeted brain.

Puck didn't show.

3:30 P.M.

Glee was not schedule for Tuesday but somehow everyone including Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury ended up in the choir room.

"Hi guys." Mr. Schue's voice had none of the cheerfulness it usually had.

The club responded with varying degrees of enthusiasm, which is to say none to even less.

Miss Pillsbury hesitated before she spoke, "I know yesterday was… horrible for all of you. Loss can be very difficult to deal with but I think if we talked about some of our feelings and actions since Rachel… well since yesterday, it may help us to work through some of the pain."

No one spoke.

Mr. Schue sighed, "Come on guys, don't make me whip out the hat to pick names." The joke fell flat.

It fell even flatter when Brittany snapped, "Leave the duck alone. He misses Rachel too."

Mr. Schue's mouth snapped shut as everyone turned to look Brittany.

Miss Pillsbury took a deep breath and tried again, "Grief can make us do things we wouldn't normally do. Has anyone felt like that?"

There was a brief silence and then, "I punched a Cheerio."

The club turned to gape at Tina.

The Asian girl met Miss Pillsbury's gaze defiantly, "She said something mean about Rachel. She has all year and… I just… Gym was so lonely without her and then that Cheerio," She spat out the title like an insult, "Mouthed off about Rachel, like nothing was different, like Rachel didn't… die." She took a deep breath and continued, "It just… It made me so mad."

The room was quiet for a few minutes until, "Did you hit her hard?"

Tina looked at Santana, "Yeah… I busted her lip."

Santana growled, "Good."

Everyone gave Tina little smiles save for Puck. The mohawked boy seemed to eye her with something akin to respect. A moment later his eyes shuttered and his expression went blank.

For the next thirty minutes the group was silent. Sharing their sadness and taking comfort in each others' presence.

Artie spoke up as the hour drew to a close, "Rachel would have had a fit if we didn't sing once during an entire meeting."

Almost everyone smiled, some even chuckled.

Mr. Schue nodded, "Artie is right. How about to honor Rachel we sing her favorite song?"

No one seemed inclined to disagree but the room grew tense. Everyone exchanged looks, each wondering the same thing. What was Rachel's favorite song? Finn received questioning glances, Kurt and Mercedes, who had often discussed music with their fellow Diva, were looked to for the answer by some. In the end the answer came from the most unexpected source.

Quinn's voice was soft, "Rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens…"

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