So, I wasn't going to post this, but Hannah made me. Naw, JK, I love you Hannah. 3

Every Mother's Day Kurt's closest friends knew to leave him alone.

It was just one of those things. Like never criticizing one of his outfits, even though it was way too out of place, because all that mattered was that it matched his skin tone and the attire he was sporting was up-to-date with the hottest trends. Or criticize anything that he did, for that matter. They knew they would get an ear full of witty insults and he wouldn't clean them off the next time they got hit with a slushie.

Every Mother's Day, Kurt cried. A lot.

He cried at the sunlight pouring in through the glass window when he woke up, because his mother was a night owl and hated waking up so early. He cried when he made his father lunch before he went to school, because his mother loved to cook. He cried in between classes, in the corner of the janitor's closet, in between the mop and the shelf of VomiFresh. And at the end of the school day, he hid in the choir room and cried under the piano, just so his father wouldn't have to deal with him crying once he got home. This was usually where he cried the most, because by that time of the day he was sick of crying and he wanted the pain to stop.

But on that particular Mother's Day – the eighth one he had to live through without one – when he arrived at the choir room, clutching a box of tissues in one hand and a bottle of Glaceau mineral water in the other, Kurt was surprised to find Rachel Berry, huddled in the corner, doing exactly what he had come there to do.

Kurt just rolled his eyes and set his supplies down on top of the piano. He didn't have time to deal with Rachel's petty annoyances. Not right now, anyway.

"Rachel, I'm sorry you didn't get the solo in Summer Nights last week, but to be frank, Santana slid through the notes better than anyone thought she would. Mr. Schue only thought it would be fair to give her the part."

She glanced at him briefly, looking as though she was about to speak, but then went right back to sobbing into her knees. Kurt immediately saw the hurt swirling in her eyes, along with the mixture of tears, and approached her. He made a move to hug her, but right when the soft flannel of his jacket reached her skin she began, crying harder. And louder. He pulled away quickly.

Fifteen minutes passed before Rachel finally lifted her head, tears streaked on her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she sniffed, trying her best to wipe away the mascara tracks caked on her face with her hands.

"Are you okay?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want to talk about it."

Kurt sighed, and Rachel let him rub comforting circles on the small of her back with his palm.

"It's better to talk about it than to do this," he said sternly. "It will help get your feelings out a lot more quickly."

Rachel sniffled, leaning her head against the wall behind her. The muscles beneath her cheekbones and at the corners of her lips slowly softened, but the tears continued coursing down her cheeks.

"Is it Finn?"

She swallowed harshly, and for a moment Kurt thought she wasn't going to speak, but she shook her head and responded. "No."

Kurt was so worried that not even the tiniest thought that he was disappointed Finn hadn't broken up with her yet flashed through his mind.

"Any boy at all?"

Rachel shook her head again.

"School?"

"No."

"Parents?"

"No."

"Someone put bacon bits in your salad at lunch?"

She looked at him oddly. "No."

He sighed frustratingly. "Rachel, I'm not going to play twenty questions with you. Just tell me."

"I told you, Kurt, I don't want to."

"Rachel, crying uncontrollably won't make the pain go away. It's going to stay with you for a long, long time. The pressure in your heart will build up and suffocate you. Now you either tell me or I'll force you to tell me. Your choice."

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she spoke calmly. "Today. What day it is. That's what's got me so…so worked up."

He studied her curiously, knitting his brows together.

"I'm missing so, so much in my life, Kurt. I see moms taking their kids to school o-or playing with them in the park." A set of fresh tears rolled down her face.

Kurt could hardly stand the sight of seeing her cry any longer. "Hey, hey," he said worriedly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. A sob racked her body as he did so, and she placed her head on his chest. He shushed her gently.

"I had my chance with Shelby. And it's simple; she…she doesn't love me. Nor will she ever love me."

Kurt rubbed her back again and reached over her to grab the tissue box before placing one in her hands. He waited until she was finished blowing her nose to speak.

"You know, Rachel, I think Shelby does love you. Truly, she does. She just…she needs some space. To take care of Beth. In time she'll come to understand what she's missing out on." He smirked, brushing some hair out of her sticky cheeks. She giggled, and the tears ultimately stopped.

"Thank you, Kurt," she smiled, then bit down on her lower lip. "And…I'm sorry."

He frowned. "For what?"

"I just, um…" She sighed. "I know today must be hard for you, so."

Tears immediately pricked Kurt's eyes. He hadn't managed to blink them away before one came rolling down his cheek. Rachel's eyes widened.

"No, no, please. Please, don't cry."

Kurt sniffled and used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the tear away. Rachel, surprised that he would use his clothing in lieu of tissue, wrapped her tiny arms around his waist, squeezing hard.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt," she whispered. "I'm being selfish."

"Being selfish is better than being a hypocrite," he laughed awkwardly, the sound drowned out by more tears rushing down his face. She pulled back and looked at him sympathetically.

"You're not a hypocrite. It's okay to cry every now and then."

Kurt Hummel had barely said anything but gibberish before his face crumpled, collapsing under the pressure of the tears. "I miss my mommy. I miss her laugh and the way she talked and how accepting she was. Everything. But she didn't even say goodbye. She just left." He buried his face in Rachel's shoulder and started crying. "Why did she go? I needed her. I still do! And she's gone!"

Kurt wept, leaving wet splotches all over Rachel's sweater. Not that she cared. He wept more than he ever did on any Mother's Day he had lived through, hard and long, Rachel's arms wrapped around him. She stroked his hair and shushed him and pressed a warm, loving kiss to his temple. After a good 20 minutes, when the tears stopped, he looked up at her, giving her a small, teary smile.

"There. I'm done."

She returned the smile reassuringly. "Good. Because I hate seeing you cry."

And from every Mother's Day then on, Kurt barely shed a single tear. Because he knew he had someone to share it with.

Someone who felt his pain.

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