Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

Finn scratched the back of his neck and winced. There was already a pretty killer sunburn forming, if he wasn't mistaken. Great.

He'd been pretty excited at first about going to the car show. He'd always wanted to go to one, so when Burt had suggested it, he'd eagerly talked his mom into going with the Hummels. She'd agreed, a bit reluctantly, but she had finally admitted that it was probably a good idea to have a "bonding day," as she called it, with the twins.

The car show, however, turned out to be a lot less fun than he thought. It had started off pretty fun, with breakfast at Cracker Barrel (in which he ate his body weight in pancakes), and wandering around the parking lots and tents filled with amazing cars was awesome…at first. But first it got hot, and after a while all the cars started to look alike, and then it got hotter…

They were supposed to stop and get lunch sometime soon, and thank God, because the pancakes had been a really long time ago, and he was super thirsty. He'd already scrounged around for fifty cents in the bottom of his mom's purse and gotten a Coke from a sketchy-looking vending machine, but honestly, he was ready to call it a day and head to McDonald's. It was nearly two o'clock, and a Big Mac sounded a lot more interesting than another vintage Mustang.

"Hey, Dad?"

Burt paused from examining a 1950s Corvette and glanced up. "Yeah, kiddo?" he said, still distracted by the car.

"Can we stop and get a drink soon?" Kurt asked. Finn looked back at him; his younger nearly-stepbrother was trailing behind the rest of them, the hollow of his throat above the collar of his shirt burned to a bright pink. "I'm…kind of thirsty."

Quinn pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. "And I need to check in with Noah," she said. "I want to see how Beth's doing."

"And, um…I'm kind of hungry," Finn added.

Burt sighed heavily. "Fine," he said. "I guess we can head out and grab some lunch. Where should we-"

Kurt made a weird choking noise, and Finn turned around just in time to watch Kurt's eyes roll back in the head, right before he fell forward and hit the asphalt hard.

Burt was kneeling by him in a second, rolling him gently onto his back and pressing his hand to the side of his neck. His temple and cheek were badly scraped from the fall, the skin peppered with gravel and dotted with blood. "Kurt? Kiddo, come on," he said.

Quinn dropped to her knees beside Kurt, loosening the buttons of his shirt and smoothing his hair away from his forehead. "Dad, he's really hot," she said. "But he's so pale."

Finn stood by dumbly, watching the color continue to drain from Kurt's face. His eyes were trying to open, but he almost seemed like he didn't have the strength.

Quinn lifted Kurt just a little so his head was resting on her knees, her fingers still raking steadily through his hair. Burt gripped his hand tightly. "Come on, kiddo, open your eyes," he coaxed. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

Kurt's lashes parted, just a little bit, and he looked up at his father, dazed. He whimpered a little, clearly distressed and disoriented, and Quinn bent over him to press a kiss to his forehead and shush him gently.

Finn shifted his weight uneasily. Passers-by had begun to gather around, still giving them a wide berth but talking behind their hands. He didn't know what to do. He felt useless.

"What's wrong, scooter?" Burt asked, cupping his free hand under Kurt's neck. "What's wrong? What hurts?"

"My stomach hurts," Kurt rasped. His lips had gone stark white. "I can't keep my eyes open."

"No, no, no, baby, stay awake," Quinn urged. She bit her lip like she was trying not cry. "God, I didn't even notice..."

Finn took a step back as several paramedics crowded him out of the way. His mother took charge quickly, telling the EMTs what happened and prompting Burt to answer their questions. Within minutes they were loading Kurt into an ambulance, lights already flashing.

"Sorry, only one person can come with him," one of the paramedics said, blocking Quinn gently.

Her expression twisted, half angry and half terrified, and Burt squeezed her shoulders. "Princess, go with Finn and Carole," he said. "I'll stay with Kurt and you can meet us at the hospital."

Quinn shook her head stubbornly. "No, I have to go with you," she said. She bit down on her lip hard. "I didn't pay attention, Daddy, it's my fault-"

Burt shook his head and pushed her gently back towards Carole before climbing into the ambulance beside his unconscious son, his mouth set in a grim line as he reached for Kurt's limp hand. The doors slammed shut and the vehicle pulled out, tires shrieking on the pavement.

Quinn choked out a strange little noise, like a strangled sob, and Carole hugged her tightly. "Come on, sweetie, we need to go meet them at the hospital," she said, smoothing Quinn's blonde hair away from her face. "Come on."

Finn followed his mother and Quinn numbly back towards the car. Quinn wasn't crying, and somehow that made everything a million times worse. His mother said nothing as she forced them all into the car and drove out of the parking lot.

The only sound in the car was the occasional click of the turn signal. Finn stared down at his knees, trying not to look at Quinn. Her face was white and blank, completely expressionless. He swallowed hard.

They pulled up to the emergency room and Quinn was out of the car before Carole had even parked. She took off running for the doors, her hair flying behind her.

Finn swallowed hard. "Mom, what's going on?" he asked.

She locked the car door and dropped the keys in her purse. "Kurt's very, very sick," she said. She gripped his arm, firmly but gently. "Come on."

He stumbled behind her, his mind reeling. It wasn't until they walked into the emergency room to find Quinn shouting at the nurse at the front desk that he snapped back down to reality.

"Quinn, Quinn, stop it," Carole said, reaching for her.

"They won't tell me where Kurt is!" Quinn screamed. "Where's my brother? I want my brother!"

Carole grabbed her and whispered something in her ear, something that made her shoulders slump and her face crumple. She stepped up to the nurse and talked to her quietly as Quinn just stood there, staring blankly at the floor.

Carole turned back to them. "He's still in triage," she said. "They'll let us go and see him, but we have to stay calm, all right?"

Quinn nodded and followed her down the hall, her steps quick and quiet. Finn trailed behind them, uncomfortable and awkward.

When they reached the door, Quinn pushed it open without even pausing to knock and immediately raced over to her father. Burt pulled her into a tight hug, smoothing her rumpled blonde hair. "He's gonna be okay, princess," he soothed. "He'll be fine."

Quinn broke out of the hug and sat down at the edge of the bed. "Kurt? Are you okay?" she asked, cupping his chin in his hands.

His blue eyes were dazed and foggy as he looked up at her, and he moved his mouth a little like he was trying to answer but couldn't. Burt sank into the chair beside them. "He's got heat exhaustion and he's severely dehydrated; that's why he blacked out," he said. "They're gonna start an IV in a second, and he'll be okay."

"I hate needles," Kurt mumbled, his lips clumsy.

Quinn laid down beside him, tucking an arm around his waist and murmuring into his ear. He closed his eyes, his lashes dark against the pallor of his skin, and leaned a little closer to her shoulder. They'd cleaned the blood and gravel from his face, but there were still awful red marks left from his fall.

The nurse came in with the IV and began to set up her things quietly. "I hate needles," Kurt repeated, a little stronger this time.

"I know, baby, but you'll be okay," Burt said. "I'm here, and Quinnie's here, and you'll be just fine."

Finn stood awkwardly by the door, trying to make himself as small as possible as he tried to stay out of the way. The nurse prepared the needle, and Quinn hugged Kurt tighter, hiding his face in her shoulder. Burt kept a steady hand on Kurt's shoulder. The needle slid through the thin skin of his elbow, and the only noise Kurt made was a high, strangled, keening sound, muffled in his sister's neck as his entire body tensed.

"There you go, all done," the nurse said, setting up the tubing and the bag of fluids. "You should start feeling better pretty soon. It'll take about an hour to drain this bag, and then we'll see if you need another one, all right?"

"The doctor wants to keep him overnight for observation, right?" Burt asked quietly. "He thinks it's a flareup." The nurse paused before nodding, and quickly left the room.

"Flareup of what?" Finn blurted out.

Carole tugged him aside. "Kurt and Quinn's mother had a chronic illness called ulcerative colitis," she whispered. "It affects the digestive system. Kurt has it too. He was diagnosed when he was ten."

Finn's mouth went dry. "But…he's going to be okay, right?" he asked.

"Finn…she died from it."

He looked down at the Hummel family, his head spinning. Quinn was still cuddling Kurt to her side, lying down beside him on the narrow bed that really ought to only hold one, and Burt sat as close to his twins as he could manage, holding Kurt's hand tightly in both of his.

"We better not lose him too," he choked out, and Carole nodded.

Author's Notes:

UGH FEELS.

I originally posted this on Tumblr the other day, and it wasn't until it was already done and posted that I remembered that I'd mentioned Kurt getting diagnosed when he was ten- and in the original version of this chapter, they didn't know he had it. Oy. I have too many headcanons to keep them all straight. So I tweaked this one a little bit.

I feel like, with a daughter and a son, Burt would be a lot more affectionate and emotional than if Kurt was his only child. But the twins are extremely protective of each other- and it seemed logical that Quinn would put the blame on herself for not taking better care of her brother.

FEEEEEEEEEEEELS.