I imagine Kurt missing his mother a lot when he's sick and this scene kind of just waltzed into my head.

Carole.

This was strange.

Kurt only had about fifteen minutes left to get ready to go to school and he hadn't even eaten breakfast yet. Usually he made sure he'd already eaten half an hour before he had to leave.

By now, Carole had already called him about four times and he still hadn't shown up.

Even Finn had already come downstairs, eaten his breakfast and had already showered.

At the moment, he was coming downstairs, furrowing his brow at his mother in confusion as he set his bag next to the front door. His mother was still standing at the foot of the stairs.

'He isn't answering, is he?' He asked.

'No. Can you please go check up on him? Just in case something's wrong?'

Carole bit her lip, worried, as Finn sprinted back upstairs. She heard him knocking on his stepbrother's door, saying his name several times before just opening the door.

It was silent for a couple of moments before Finn reappeared at the top of the stairs and looked slightly panicked.

'Kurt's not in his bed.'

Carole's heart stood still for a second, mind immediately jumping to the worst conclusions. Suddenly, Finn snapped his head to the side as if he'd heard a sound or had seen something.

'Wait a second, Mom.'

And he ran off, opening a door that sounded like Kurt's bedroom door. The squeak gave it away. If you opened the door too far, it squeaked loudly.

'Uh, Mom?' She heard Finn's voice.

'What is it?'

'I found Kurt, but I think you should come upstairs, like, right now.'

Relieved that Kurt hadn't run away or hadn't been kidnapped, but still worried because of what Finn had said, she quickly strutted upstairs, only to find her son rubbing Kurt's back as the pale boy was leaning his head against the wall where he was sitting in the corner of his bedroom with his trash can in his hands.

Kurt was incredibly pale, but not the beautiful, smooth kind of pale he usually was. He looked sick and if his position was any indication, he indeed felt sick as well.

He had pulled his knees towards his chest, as far as was possible with the trash can still sitting in his lap and his arms were wrapped around his tiny torso, as if he was feeling cold.

Sweat was visible on his entire face and his hair was a little damp. His eyes were half-closed as if he was trying to block the lights out.

'I think he's sick, Mom.'

'You think so?' Carole said sarcastically, smiling and shaking her head at Finn, while he just rolled his eyes.

'You should go to school, sweetie.' And with that, she waved away Finn and his protests and helped Kurt to his feet, half-dragging him back to his bed, carefully dropping him down on it.

The trash can, which had stood abandoned in the corner, was moved towards next to Kurt as well, just in case.

Carole sat next to Kurt and checked his temperature with her hand on his forehead. He was definitely too warm.

'How long have you been sitting there?'

'About two hours?' Kurt squeaked out, clearly also having lost his voice.

'Why didn't you warn us? And don't you dare tell me that you didn't want to bother us.'

Kurt shut his mouth again, because apparently that was exactly what he was going to say.

She shook her head at him and sighed, pulling him towards her, fully intending to give him a motherly hug. But Kurt had an entirely other idea, because he dropped his head in her lap and pulled his legs to his chest. He sighed, but it sounded sad, as if he wished he could've gone to school, despite the fact that he was sick.

She slowly stroked her fingers through his already very dishevelled hair. He seemed to relax under that motion. He was almost asleep when he said it. Or mumbling was more like it.

'I wish my mommy was here.'

He'd said it as if he were a little child again and Carole remembered Burt warning her about such behaviour, but nonetheless, his words had stung just a little bit.

She knew he didn't see her as his mother. He never would and she understood that fully.

He'd loved his mother with all his heart and when he talked about her, which in itself was rare, it sounded as if she could never have done anything wrong in his eyes.

But the fact that it seemed as if she could never do enough to be good enough to take care of Kurt when he was sick still stung just a tiny bit, even if she really didn't have any reason to feel that way.

Kurt was already mostly asleep when she lifted his head and laid him down on the bed properly, standing up and making her way towards the door. Kurt curled up in a little ball again, knees tucked under his chin and his head shifting a little on his pillow to get comfortable.

Carole was just about to walk out the door, mentally making a list of things she needed and she had to do for Kurt, like finding medicine and making him some soup when she heard his barely there voice.

'She would've liked you, you know. Enough to let you take care of me. So I'm glad you're here.'

Shocked as she was, she still smiled and waited until Kurt's breath evened out, signalling he was asleep, before leaving to find some medicine and make some soup.

But not before mentally promising Kurt's mother something.

'I'll always take care of your son from now on, if necessary for the rest of my life.'