A/N: Wow. What a response. You people you. *swoons*

Please note, that as I type this, we are all speculating the outcome of this week's episode. On My Way. Because NO ONE KNOWS WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING.

SPOLIER ALERT

Something about suicide and car crashes and oh god i can't cope!

I may have just died when I heard Cough Syrup, and now with all these spoilers...Gah. It's all too much. I cannot go into this episode Blind. I can't.

I will be dead before the next update if some of the rumours are true. Actually physically dead...because there is a 7 week hiatus after and my god, I don't trust them to resolve anything. A cliff hanger with 7 weeks to wait is not fair, and that's me talking...there must be something against torture like that in the constitution.

But anyway, I digress, and on with the chapter.

P.S Listening to 'Here's to us' as I type and it's not making me feel any better

The Black is gone.

...

And that's when Kurt Hummel, opened his eyes.

Oh God. Oh God, oh God oh sweet holy mother of –

FUCK.

Ok. That hurt. Like that really, really hurt.

There were needles and oh god ouch...

There was something cold going into him arm...Geeze...what the-

FUCK.

What the hell was going on? What the hell, what the-

Kurt let out a groan as he blinked up at the occupants of the room.

Nurses, doctors and a like; all clad in their scrubs, stared down at him like he was some animal in a zoo.

And then there was pain. So much pain it just felt like his entire body was stuck in a furnace, burning and scolding and shrivelling up as spears stabbed into his skin, sending yet more agony coursing through his nerves.

The metal slings holding him aloft creaked as he moved and the monitos beside him started to beep manically.

'Someone get the kid some pain relief pronto' shouted a man, as Kurt's entire body contorted.

The voice was close, though Kurt couldn't pin point where it was. He couldn't really pin point anything. His vision kept phasing in and out; the shapes morphing and twisting in front of his very eyes.

He couldn't focus on anything, and trying just made his head pound.

At least he was fairly certain where he was. There weren't many other places as depressing as this one.

Hospitals and Kurt Hummel didn't mix.

He hated the places. Despised them even. They may make people better, but all they did was remind him what happened to land him (or others) there in the first place.

The white wash walls and uninspiring decor do nothing to distract the mind, but rather provoke its misery. Seeing people there created long lists of possible causes and injuries they could have recieved and brought a viewer a rather nasty array of mental images, ranging from car crashes to axe wielding pyscopaths.

When you're trapped in a bed, unable to move and with no one to talk to. Your mind has a nasty habit of reminiscing on the bad points. Because when you're in hospital, there are rarely any good ones.

It wasn't long before more doctors started arriving. The earlier ones left and new ones came; armed with needles and pincers and forceps and every other medical instrument Kurt could think of.

It wasn't pleasant. He was a new type of case, and everyone seemed to want a peek at 'angel boy.'

As the people gawked at his helpless frame, Kurt felt nothing but revulsion.

They did yet more tests now he was awake. A lot of which involved prodding and poking him and questioning whether this or that hurt.

Which, of course it did. Funnily enough fresh knife wounds and giant bruises tend to be just a little sore; God, sometimes he wondered what the heck these people were paid to do other than ask the obvious.

No one really seemed to know what to do, at first his answers had been muffled by the whopping great oxygen mask strapped to his face, which no one thought to help him remove until a good ten minutes into his assessments. They didn't even listen to him when he could talk properly. Just nodded along and kept poking.

All in all it took just over an hour, before it was established that Yes, Kurt was in pain and No, they shouldn't move him yet.

Which he already knew...and stated...several times.

He fell asleep again shortly after the first batch of tests finished. Once his 'pain reflexes' were checked, they boosted his pain meds; because surprise, surprise, a normal dose wasn't strong enough for knife wounds on a teenager.

Kurt's sleep certainly wasn't as peaceful as the first time. Whilst the medication helped dull his dreams down, the horrific flashbacks still burst into his mind. And he would often find himself lashing out whenever anyone got to close.

Other than that though, he was dead to the world as his body was pumped to the brink with chemicals.

The next time they woke him up was to try and ask him yet more questions. But he was still far too tired and could barely string together words, other than a slightly slurred 'Go 'way' to the doctors, and later an 'I s'd f'ck 'ff' to a rather startled nurse, before he would fall asleep again.

People continued to come and interrupt him regardless, rousing him from his sleep and checking on him for seemingly no reason other than to annoy him. Kurt was infinitely frustrated and really wished everything would just stop.

And he really did mean everything.

It wasn't until much later, and after much pestering from his family, that he finally got to talk to his father.

Burt and Carole had waited all this time. Never moving from the waiting room, other than to make calls, or use the facilities.

Right now Kurt was their number one priority and they weren't going to move for anyone.

It was getting late on the second full calendar day of their time in the hospital and they were pretty exhausted. Burt kept dosing off, and Carole had turned one of the couches into a makeshift bed for herself, much to the chagrin of the staff

But finally, the moment they had been waiting for arrived; and they were called in to get their first chance at a conversation with Kurt.

The first sound made by any of the room's occupants, when Burt and Carole first laid eyes on the freshly awakened teen was a shrill squeak.

And that was from Burt.

It was something between a gasp and a cough, that had the man making such an effeminate sound, but it was certainly enough to draw Kurt's attention over to the pair.

'Dad?' He said groggily, his unbandaged hand reaching up to raise the oxygen mask off his face. 'Carole?'

'Hey kiddo.' Burt chocked, as he quickly crossed the room to get to his son.

'We've missed you so much honey' Carole cooed, following her husband and pulling them both up a small chair so they could sit by Kurt's bedside. She extended her hand and ruffled Kurt's hair slightly, a small smile emerging on her tear dampened face.

'Things ain't the same without you kiddo. Burt added quietly, still staring at Kurt as he sat; his eyes were slowly filling with tears, as if the sight of his son alive and (almost) well was too much for him. 'I'm so glad you're back...oh God Kurt. I'm so happy your back.'

Burt let a small tear slip down his cheek as he grasped Kurt's frail hand between his own large paws. ' I really missed you kid.' He said, gazing at his son, who gave a feeble smile in return.

'I missed you too Dad.' Kurt murmered, feeling like a small child as he tried desperatly to smile a little wider, but it just hurt too much.

Nether the less, it was at those five words that Burt's resolve cracked. He lowered his head, so it was resting on the fabric of Kurt's sheets and just let himself sob into the material.

Kurt looked alarmed, and glanced over at Carole, who merely gave him a sympathetic smile and nodded towards Burt, her own eyes misty as she watched her husband and step-son reunite.

'S'ok Dad' Kurt said slowly, awkwardly bobbing his fathers and his hands in an effort to be comforting as he too felt tears coming.

'I missed you so much.' Burt wept, his voice muffled by the sheets, wanting nothing more than to engulf his son in a hug, but knowing that was impossible. 'So god damn much Kurt... so god damn much...and I thought...t-that you wouldn't-'

He broke off, a fresh wave of sobs wracking through his body as he clung to his young sons hand.

'I's ok dad.' Kurt repeated. 'It'll be ok.' He didn't bother saying he was ok, because they both knew that would be a lie. Kurt wasn't ok. He was nowhere near ok.

The staff said he would be.

But he wasn't.

In fact. They made quite a show of saying just how ok he would be.

Once Burt and Carole had their reunion with Kurt, more and more people flooded the room. Doctors, nurses, surgeons, psychiatrists and alike came in; chatting with the family and scoping out Kurt, before announcing that he would be fine.

They spoke to him and his parents; asked him basic questions and surveyed his injuries. They prodded and poked even more than before. They measured and photographed. They sketched and recorded. But they all came to the same conclusion.

That Kurt Hummel would be fine.

His injuries would fade. There were ways of dealing with the wings. There were pills if he got nightmares and pills if he got nervous. There were people he could talk to and councillors who would guide him in his reintroduction to the world.

And he would eventually, (though no specific time was given) be ok.

Everything would be ok.

But Kurt knew better; and nothing could dissuade him from what he knew to be the facts.

According to them, everything was going to be all right.

But Kurt knew something would always be wrong.

He knew everything was wrong. Not just with himself, but with the world.

Kurt Hummel, wasn't meant to be there. Lying, drugged up in a hospital bed. No sir.

He shouldn't be there...he shouldn't...

His family may have missed him, and so may his friends. Everyone was so happy he was alive and well. They had all been so frightened. They though he was going to die. They thought he would be dead.

And they were right.

Kurt Hummel was meant to be dead.

And through Kurt's eyes...the world would be at fault until he was.

TBC...

A/N: So, how was it? Any feedback, prompts etc?

Also, the wings. Someone (Uriah) sent me a message with a link to a photo she saw that reminded her of Kurt's wings. I was wondering what other people thought of them. Because I have an image in my head, but I'm sure everyone's differs. If you want, send me what you think they look like on Tumblr. Just tag with Backwardsmuffin. If anyone does I'll shout you out next chap.

I'm just fascinated is all.

Anyway, now that is over I shall rejoice in my last day of vacation. TTFN.

P.S. Struck by Lightning trailers...this movie looks amazing. I am so proud of Chris.