Chapter One

Word Count: 63,934 total, 5,773 this section.

A/N: This was my submission for this years NaNoWriMo. It's a Struck By Lightning/Glee crossover. I haven't seen SBL yet but I can't wait. There aren't any spoilers for the movie besides names I suppose. This takes place midway through Kurt and Carson's senior year in high school. In this fic the two of them are twins that got separated when their parents divorced.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Struck By Lighting.

Prologue

"Make it quick." A haggard looking woman was standing straight as a rod, arms crossed over her chest. She was eying the people in front of her warily, a young boy and a balding man. The little boy surged forward; his freckles standing out harshly against his pallid, tear streaked face. He wrapped his arms tightly around the woman's son, clinging tightly and whining pitifully against his neck. They clung to each other,crying and pressing tight like they could fuse together and stop it all from happening. The two of them had to be pulled apart. The woman with wild windswept hair grabbed her son around the middle and hauled him to the car, paying no mind to his pitiful sobs and scratching hands.

She pushed him into the car and leaned across him to buckle his seat belt. She didn't spare a glance to the wailing child behind her. She slid into the front seat with a grim set face and started the engine before she was properly buckled. As she pulled away from the quaint two story house the small boy ran after the car crying and screaming for the boy in the back seat. He and his father stood in the street, watching in the direction the car went until long after it was out of sight.

Chapter One

Coming to Kurt's house on Friday had become as much a tradition for Blaine as Friday night dinners had become for Kurt. His own parents both worked late, sometimes well into the morning hours, on Fridays. So if he wasn't at Kurt's he was at home eating Thursday's leftovers or quick meals scavenged from the pantry. And as much as he enjoyed grilled cheese and tomato soup, homemade chicken vegetable lasagna just tasted better. So he followed after Kurt's car with a smile on his face and high hopes for the night ahead. Even the impending talk they were to have didn't bother him. Kurt had seemed a little worried but he hadn't lashed out at Rachel in Glee and Burt was doing just fine so it couldn't be anything too bad. Blaine honestly thought it had something to do with their sex life. Even though the two of them had progressed far south of the border with each other there were still moments when Kurt felt insecure and unattractive. The latter of which couldn't be more false. So false in fact that Blaine dedicated whole nights to proving it so often using very physical demonstrations and breathy whispered declarations. Yeah, he had very high hopes for the night.

He parked in his designated spot in the grass along the curb and all but skipped to Kurt's Navigator to open his door. He pulled it open with a flourish and folded into a bow while sweeping his arm out in invitation for Kurt to exit. His cheesy display earned him a chuckle and a kiss on the forehead. Blaine accepted it and countered with a kiss to Kurt's knuckles then stepped back before he could get swatted on the arm. Finn lumbered out with much less grace and slammed his door which Kurt frowned at. Whatever was bothering him must be pretty important because Kurt didn't say anything about the mistreatment of his baby. It worried Blaine a little.

Blaine took Kurt's hand and followed him in, sweeping his thumb over the skin of Kurt's hand. A quick look inside shows that both Burt and Carole are out, probably at work. It doesn't take long for Finn to backtrack and fly out to his truck to see Rachel. Kurt does his little finger wiggle wave then turns and beckons Blaine to come with him to the bedroom. The front door slamming spurns Blaine into motion. He's almost giddy with anticipation. They have the whole house to themselves and Kurt could very possibly be attempting to propose a new sexual fantasy. And if Blaine has to play the role of supportive boyfriend to help him feel at ease with it, well that's just a burden he'll have to bare.

"You're quiet today."

Kurt hums. "I've got a lot on my mind." He pulls Blaine into his room and gently pushes him toward the bed then closes his door. "I wanted to show you something." That sends Blaine's mind reeling. It's entirely possible that Kurt has some risque outfit he's put together just for them. "Animal" still weighs heavily in both their minds, an awkward reminder that they're both young and learning. Fashion is normally Kurt's comfort zone even well in the avant garde but throw something at him that's suppose to scream sensual and he panics. Blaine eagerly waits as Kurt heads to his closet, cheering wildly in his head. It could be anything. There was a corset once, which had been all kinds of sexy, but impractical once they started going. Kurt was still sore about how the whole thing had devolved but Blaine still thought about it fondly.

Blaine heard Kurt rummaging around deep in the back of his closet. It sounded like he was going through his fabric tubs. The rustling stopped but Kurt didn't reemerge. Blaine thought he was gathering his confidence. He remained still on the foot of the bed, ready to put on a supportive face. As Kurt came out Blaine saw what he was holding before his face. It wasn't clothing which confused him. He looked up at Kurt's face quickly to see if there were any hints there. The crumpled, heartbroken look on his face wiped away all of Blaine's arousal and left him on edge and worried. "What is it?" Blaine extends his hand, either to take Kurt's hand or the thing in it; whichever Kurt needs most. Kurt doesn't answer him. He hugs the powder blue thing to his chest for a second longer then pushes it into Blaine's hands.

It's a picture. The chunky plastic frame is cool in his hands and the sheer childishness of it gives Blaine pause. Then he looks at the picture. It's Kurt as a child. He's young and smiling. There's a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and his eyes are crinkled up in laughter. He's running towards the camera in crisp khaki shorts and a lilac downy sweater. His arm is stretched to the side, fingers curled just so like he's trying to grab something. And there next to him is an almost mirror image. It's Kurt, looks like him. He's wearing black cargo shorts and a bright blue cotton shirt. He's reaching here too. They share the same smile, the same freckled noses and cheeks, and the same thick brown hair. Blaine has no idea what he's looking at.

At first glance it seems like a trivial attempt at photoshop, complete with minor inconsistencies. The Kurt on the left, the Kurt wearing the downy lilac sweater has freckles on his face the color of brown sugar. They're light and clustered mostly over the bridge of Kurt's nose and the apples of his cheeks but as Blaine looks closer he notices that they're actually covering the entirety of his face. The Kurt on the right however has a dense cluster of dark brown freckles concentrated only on the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. There's other little things, minor differences that makes Blaine think Kurt pulled the right hand photo from some months later than the original.

At the foot of the bed Kurt is still standing quietly, arms crossed, eyes focused intently at the picture frame in Blaine's hands. He looks like he's waiting for Blaine to react but for the life of him he can't figure out what he's suppose to say. Blaine looks at the photo again, taking in the background. It's late afternoon, or early evening. The sunlight filtering in behind the grand oak tree is golden colored. The grass is trim and in the bottom corners he can see the edges of the flourishing garden that encircles Kurt's back yard. What seems most odd to Blaine is that the background matches both Kurt's perfectly. The light hits them just right, their shoes are folding over grass, and he can't see any blurry pixels or unexplainable shadows. It's as if the picture in his hands really has captured two Kurt's reaching out to each other. There's no way that's possible though. That would mean Kurt has a twin. A brother, a real flesh and blood brother out there somewhere. Or dead. Blaine smooths his thumbs over the glass and chastises himself. Kurt Hummel is a family man. He believes in family above all else. There's no way Kurt could have a brother that he didn't know about. If he did have a brother, if this hypothetical twin died along with Kurt's mother Blaine would know about it. They talked about everything. Especially family, even when it was hard.

He was getting ahead of himself, winding himself up for no reason. The picture in his hands was obviously a brilliant photoshop masterpiece and Blaine was being a slave to his imagination. "It's...what is it exactly?" Kurt bites on his lip, holds it there for a second, then lets it slip free slowly. Blaine knows it's something he does when he's nervous or upset and that sends off alarm bells, because he can't think of a sane reason for Kurt to be upset or nervous over an altered photo. He uncurls his legs and lets them drop to the floor in front of Kurt, then sets the picture aside. Kurt watches it go and flinches when Blaine puts his hands over Kurt's hips. "Hey, what's the matter?"

"I haven't been honest with you." It's quiet and garbled with tears. Blaine's heart races at the confession. He knows better than to speak up. Interruptions give Kurt the option to opt out of emotional conversations. Whatever the story is behind the photo it's obvious Kurt needs to get it out. Blaine just rubs his thumbs back and forth over Kurt's hips. He wishes Kurt weren't wearing so many layers. He wanted so badly to brush his thumbs over the bare skin of Kurt's hips to ground him.

"Shh, it's okay. It's going to be okay Kurt. Whatever it is." Kurt snorts and tosses his head to the side. His hair is coming loose from his pompadour and falling across his forehead.

"I've been lying to you. To everyone. And I'm so...angry, and sick to my stomach." Kurt wants to say more but his throat closes up. He's crying freely now and his mouth is open, his lips curled in, but no sound is coming out. He feels like he's choking. When he sees Blaine beginning to stand up he steps to the side and grabs the picture frame. He holds it to his chest with crossed arms and drops his chin to his chest.

Blaine is lost. When Kurt had asked him to come over earlier to talk he assumed they would be discussing their plans for the holidays. He felt ill prepared for the bundle of nerves and sadness that was standing next to him. "Kurt...what's wrong? What's making you feel sick?"

"He's my brother! He's my brother. Mine! And we don't talk. We don't write. We just...drifted away and now we treat him like a dirty little secret and it's not his fault. It's not! It's not...it's not." Kurt's clutching the picture frame tight to his chest and curling around it. His breath is ragged with tears and he's sniffling. He looks younger and more vulnerable than Blaine's ever seen him before. It's terrifying. And confusing.

Never had Kurt mentioned a brother, let alone a twin. His mind raced through outrageous reasons why this boy would be turned away. Burt certainly didn't seem the type to disown anyone. He could have run away but that was unlikely. A child as photogenic as Kurt disappearing would have been national news. And the way Kurt said that they didn't talk meant that this boy was alive somewhere. It was mind boggling. Blaine was so shocked with the revelation that it didn't even cross his mind to feel angry or betrayed. Instead he just felt intensely curious and saddened by proxy.

Still unsure of what to say, Blaine hesitantly placed his hands on Kurt's shoulders and guided him to sit on the bed. Once there Kurt rocked forward until his crossed arms were pressed into his thighs. He was still sobbing over the picture frame. "Breathe Kurt. Come on, just breathe okay." Blaine moved forward until Kurt's head was pressing into his stomach, then reached out and started rubbing across Kurt's back; his palms pressing just enough for Kurt to feel it through his layered tops. He made quiet shushing noises as he worked, trying to lessen the emotional storm Kurt had worked himself up into. He still couldn't make heads or tails of the apparent fact that Kurt had a twin brother. More than just his absence there was the fact that no one else seemed to know about him. Lima was a small town, not one school small, but close knit enough that everyone knew everyone else's dirty little secrets. Something as scandalous as a long lost twin brother to the town gay was something that everyone should know about. And while Blaine trusted certain adults to be discreet enough to not bring it up in polite company, the same couldn't be said for the teenagers of the town. Glee club alone would tip toe around such a fact with the grace of an elephant.

They stayed like that for a while, past the time when Kurt's sobs tapered off into sniffles and then into silence. He didn't move from his hunched position, instead making himself more comfortable. He had finally loosened his death grip on the chunky blue plastic frame, though it remained close to his chest. Blaine fought the urge to shift his weight from foot to foot, and the urge to speak. He wasn't sure he could say anything that wouldn't set Kurt off in another round of tears. As far as he knew there was no tactful way to ask why you had a brother in exile.

A slam from downstairs startled them both. It was Finn stampeding into the living room. A few beats later and the door opened again, softly. Burt and Carole were home as well. Blaine stepped back from Kurt and watched as he straightened himself. He rolled his shoulders back and set the picture frame aside, glass down, on the bed. His fingers stroked the back of it for a moment. "Carson.", was all he said. He spoke quietly and more to the picture than to Blaine. It was his name, his brother's. Blaine didn't need to ask to be sure. He kept silent, wanting to reassure Kurt, but still unsure of what to say. With a tight smile Blaine pulled Kurt up from the bed and into a hug. Kurt buried his face in Blaine's neck and sagged into his arms.

"Kurt! Dinner's ready." Kurt pressed closer to Blaine, curling his fingers into his polo. He didn't want to go downstairs and deal with his family right now. More than anything he wanted to go to bed and be the little spoon with Blaine. But he could hear the dull sounds of plates being sat out and knew he couldn't just ignore them. With a hearty sniff Kurt pulled away and turned to the door. He reached behind himself blindly for Blaine, finding his hand with no problem, and tugged him along. They descended the stairs slowly. All the while Kurt was trying to discreetly dry his eyes and straighten his clothes. Blaine kept a firm hold on his hand, stroking his thumb over the soft skin there.

In the kitchen Finn was already seated, cautiously eating a slice of greasy meat lovers pizza. He chewed slowly with his eyes flicking back and forth between Carole and Burt. The two of them were tense. Blaine took in Carole's pinched face and aggravated motions around the kitchen. She was storming around the kitchen putting things down more forcibly than necessary. Burt stone faced. He couldn't tell if it was anger or sadness. Blaine still had no idea what was going on with Carson, if anything. He knew their behavior was related, it was too much of a coincidence not to be. They paid him no attention as Kurt pushed him into a chair. Finn nodded in greeting, then watched on in shocked awe as Kurt folded over a large slice of meat lovers pizza and started devouring it. Blaine was tactful enough to busy himself with getting a plate. He had a feeling that Kurt would be eating his emotions late into the night. There was raspberry cheesecake ice cream in the freezer and a stash of poorly hidden chocolate bars in the cabinet above the fridge.

It was the first dinner at the Hummel house that Blaine had experienced in relative silence. The air around them was charged and thick. Finn ate uncharacteristically slowly, too enthralled with the awkward elephant in the room to proceed normally. Burt kept his eyes on his plate, not even looking up when he reached for things across the table. And Carole alternated between being utterly frustrated and angry and sending sad glances at Kurt. Who had barely come up for air between bites of greasy pizza. When Kurt almost resorted to wiping the grease on his pants Blaine patted him on the thigh and quietly set about getting napkins and milk. As the pizza boxes started to near empty Blaine thought they would survive the entire ordeal relatively unscathed. Then Burt's phone rang.

At first Blaine thought it was Finn's. Finn had a special ring tone for every contact in his phone, and a separate one for text messages from each person. It wasn't unusual for Finn's phone to ring for an entire minute before he realized it was his. The sour look on Carole's face had him second guessing. She wasn't the type to project anger on her son. Kurt's deer in the headlights expression clued him in. It rang uninterrupted for thirty seconds while everyone watched Burt, still as stone. The song was Mellencamp and he didn't know the title. It wasn't his style. But the words were sad, about a dead wife. The soft crooning chant of 'Farewell, farewell' snapped Burt out of his stupor, sending him scrambling to get his phone out of his pocket. He answered it but said nothing, clutching the phone tight to his ear and hurrying out of the kitchen.

For a moment nobody moved, then just as suddenly the spell was broken. Kurt stood from his chair lightning fast, making it scrape back against the tile with an awful sound. "Night. Sorry Carole...can't..." Kurt couldn't form a complete sentence. He didn't even seem to be entirely coherent. Without waiting for acknowledgment Kurt turned and ran up the stairs to his room. Carole stood immediately after, throwing a crumpled napkin onto her plate. She stalked off in Burt's direction but said nothing. Blaine could see her standing tall and fierce with her arms crossed in front of Burt. He tore his eyes away to look at Finn, who was frozen with a hunk of pizza still chewed up in his cheek. With a sigh Blaine pushed himself away from the table and started cleaning up the mess. It was the least he could do. As much as he wanted to run to Kurt's bedroom he knew it wasn't really the time. But he didn't want to leave either and there was no way he was going to make himself comfortable in the living room after that exchange. He just hoped it didn't resort to yelling.

Finn eventually gathered himself enough to help. He put together all the spare pizza into one box while Blaine washed their plates. Burt and Carole were still outside on the front porch, but from what they could see through the window Burt and Carole looked more upset than anything. Finn noticed though that his mother was still holding herself angrily, leaning away from Burt as much as possible while still listening in on the phone conversation. He was even more out of the loop than Blaine, not having been present for Kurt's tearful confession of Carson. When he'd pulled up in the driveway his mom and Burt were right behind him, glaring at each other. Finn had taken the pizzas inside to avoid being there for the break out of a fight, and to ensure the pizza didn't get cold if they wanted to stay outside and argue. But they'd pulled themselves together and sat next to each other for a tense dinner the likes of which Finn hadn't seen outside of Quinn's house. The ringtone didn't give him anything either. It wasn't something he'd ever heard form Burt's phone before even though it sounded like the same guy. And as far as he knew Burt hadn't changed his ringtone since he bought the phone and Kurt set it up for him.

He thought that maybe it could be a woman, which would explain his mom's anger but not her concern. The great mystery of who could be on the phone had him uneasy, jittery in the stomach like after he'd called Kurt that in the basement of their old house. He tried to work it out in his head, getting nowhere. Just as he was about to ask Blaine if he knew anything Burt came back inside. Finn stepped away from the counter as if he'd been burned and started looking from place to place in the kitchen with wide nervous eyes. As Burt bypassed him to go upstairs he walked stiffly into the living room and cautiously turned on the television. Blaine watched on with a wry smile as Finn perched himself stiffly on the edge of the couch, legs together, palms on his knees. Subtlety was not something he could do.

A quick glance out the kitchen window told him that Carole was collecting herself and about to come in as well. Blaine wasn't sure if he should join Finn on the couch or hover awkwardly in the hallway outside of Kurt's room. He didn't think anyone would tell him to go home straight out today, not with everything else occupying their minds. And he really didn't want to go home any earlier than he had to. The sound of the front door made up his mind. He leaned casually against the kitchen counter in case Carole needed something. If she didn't he would head up to the hallway and listen to Kurt process. Even though he knew she was coming, he was unprepared to have her in front of him. Her eyes were shining with tears and she looked less angry than before. "Oh Blaine...honey you didn't have to clean up."

"It's okay Mrs. Hummel. It's the least I could do, and Finn helped." At the sound of his name Finn whipped his head back, eyes wide and terrified for a moment. It sent Carole into a fit of giggles and dissolved the last of the tension between them. For a while the two of them just leaned against the counters and enjoyed the peace. In the living room they could hear Finn watching cartoons but beyond that the house was quiet. Once Carole noticed Blaine staring longingly at the stairs she smiled knowingly and crossed to the freezer to pull out Kurt's ice cream. She pulled down a couple of chocolate bars and grabbed two spoons before pressing it all into Blaine's hands.

"Go on. He's going to want empty calories tonight." Blaine smiled in thanks and headed up the stairs. Kurt's bedroom door was surprisingly open. As he peeked cautiously around the empty door frame he saw nothing. So Kurt was either lying on the floor next to his bed, or sitting in his closet under his sweaters.

"Kurt...I have ice cream and chocolate." A thin arm flung up over the side of the bed and flopped to the mattress. Blaine chuckled as Kurt curled his fingers to sign 'gimme'. "Carole gave me two spoons but I'm not sure I want to fight you. I might pull back a nub." He heard Kurt huff just as he circled the bed. Kurt was lying on the floor, curled partly to the side, arm still flung over the bed. He glared halfheartedly at Blaine and nudged him with his foot.

"I am not that mean."

"It's food. Yes you are." Blaine dodges Kurt's kick and sits cross legged in front of him. He smiles wide as he pulls the top off the ice cream and moans when he dips the spoon in. The look on Kurt's face is worth the swat he gets for it. "See, so mean." As he's speaking he lowers the bowl to the ground between them and hands Kurt his spoon. There's a lot of humming and groaning as they scoop through the tub. When Kurt hits a particularly thick vein of sweet raspberry syrup he knocks Blaine's spoon out of the way and hugs the tub to his chest.

"I didn't want him to go away. Neither of us did." Kurt's speaking mostly to his ice cream, twirling his spoon slowly in the melting goop. "I cried non-stop for days. I couldn't sleep. I wouldn't eat. I don't even remember most of it." He drops the spoon into the tub and pushes it away until it rests against Blaine's knee. "There was a car accident. Carson and I were messing around in the back seat. We kept trying to buckle each other up in the same belt. My mom...she...she just took her eyes off the road for a second. Just to tell us to stop." He stops there. There's tears running down his cheeks but he's quiet. Blaine brushes his thumb over Kurt's face and leans in to kiss his nose. He gets a watery chuckle in return.

"When she woke up she didn't remember us. Me and Dad. She remembered Carson though. And for two years she lived with us and...She couldn't remember. To her I was just some monster wearing her baby's face. Dad was just some guy that wanted to take advantage of her. She tried to be nice but..." Kurt chokes and covers his mouth with his hand. His whole face is pink and scrunched up. He's crying in earnest now, the kind of cry that curls back his mouth until his small canines peek out. Blaine sets the ice cream tub aside and lies down with Kurt, tugging him against his chest. He tucks Kurt's face into his neck and rubs soothing circles across his back. "She just left! Two years, we lived like that for two years and then...t-then she left. And she took him away."

It was mind blowing. Kurt had explained his mother's funeral in great detail. But looking back, Kurt always seemed oddly detached about it, like he was describing the weather or an assignment. He also had a rather morbid sense of humor about the whole thing. Blaine just assumed it was a coping mechanism, to each his own and all that. The thought that Kurt's mother was actually alive out there somewhere was almost too much to handle. "And your dad what did he—"

"He thought it was for the best. That it would help her to be away, to work things out in peace. But she never came back. She never remembered me." Kurt's voice broke and his body shook. He curled closer into Blaine and closed his eyes.

Blaine didn't know what to say. Kurt had been, well not lying to him, but he'd omitted quite a bit. So much of his life, the important parts. He could understand why. Something like that would be horribly traumatizing. It wasn't something you could share lightly. It still stung. Blaine had been brutally honest about his own family troubles, baring Cooper. And there was the kicker, Cooper. He'd done something similar for far less astounding reasons. He kept Cooper a secret because he was annoying. Kurt hid his family because it was emotionally devastating. On top of that Blaine still had no idea what was going on with Carson now. He was probably hurt or sick. Or Kurt's mother could be moving back to Lima. She could be doing anything really. Just the act of reaching out to Burt and Kurt was enough to cause the tense mood that had descended upon the house. Blaine doubted she remembered Burt and Kurt again. Carole was angry, most likely at being kept in the dark, and sad over whatever was going on with Carson. If the ex-Mrs. Hummel wanted back in the family Carole wouldn't be so put together. Finn had told him a bit about her previous relationships. She was way to calm to be fighting off an old flame.

"Is he okay?"

"He got...struck by lightning. He's okay. Some burns, disorientation. He's scared." Struck by lightning. Whoa. Just, Blaine had trouble processing it. It was such an odd thing to happen. And to survive something like that, what was that even like? Blaine could see it happening, see Kurt's face as it hit, see it surge through his body and wreck him. He pulled Kurt closer and buried his nose in the that thick brown hair. He placed kiss after kiss over his crown, trying to push the image of Kurt's burning body out of his mind. "I want...I want to see him. So, so bad. But she—" Kurt shuddered and took a deep breath. His eyes burned but he tried to hold his tears back. His head was pounding and his chest felt like it was in a vice. He wanted to be done with tears for the day.

It still hurt, even after all this time. Not that it ever stopped hurting. Over the years he developed a morbid sense of humor to cope with the loneliness and betrayal he felt. His mother died that night in the car. The woman in California, the woman who took Carson, was just a monster wearing her face. She was a wreck last he heard. He and Carson didn't get to talk all that often. They tried when they were younger, sending notes back and forth that almost always got returned. She didn't like hearing from Kurt in the early years, still convinced he was some sort of evil changeling baby masquerading as her precious only son. The first time he and Carson managed to call each other she intervened and Kurt listened in shock as she yelled and raged before slamming the phone down. It had frightened him off from trying again. Later they tried e-mails and Skype but it was rare. They were both bitter about how things had turned out and secretly still afraid of what their mother would do if she found out. They knew only the basics about each other like Sheryl's second marriage and second divorce, then her following alcoholism. Carson knew that Kurt had zero friends and that he was the town pariah. They never talked about why.

Sheryl was reluctant to see Kurt even now. Carson said that she understood that Kurt really was her son, that she really had been happily married with twins, but it wasn't enough. The memories just weren't there and now she'd lived longer without those memories than she had with them. Seeing or hearing from Kurt still made her agitated, now more so because of how her life had turned out. The accident hadn't just taken away a picture perfect family. It had taken away a career and a sense of self. Kurt reminded her of all her shortcomings to date. She also thought he stressed out Carson. She thought he was high maintenance and self centered. It wasn't something she wanted to deal with when her son was on his possible death bed. Visiting Clover at this point was not a possibility. Burt was trying his hardest to ware her down; after all he wanted to see Carson as well. Things just weren't falling into place. Carole had been thrown for the loop. Which surprised Kurt. He had honestly thought his father had discussed that with her.

Carole was torn between being angry with Burt for keeping his wife and additional son a secret and Sheryl was picking up on it. She'd made only three phone calls, each as vicious and vaguely incoherent as the last. She was being bitter and petty and Kurt wanted to reach into the phone and hit her just as much as he wanted to hug her. He could understand looking at the shattered remains of your life and cutting up anyone who came close. He just wished she wasn't using Carson's accident as an excuse. It was getting no one anywhere, and fast. Kurt knew instinctively that Carson wanted to see him and that he was frustrated with his mother's childish attitude. It was only a matter of time before Carson high jacked a phone and called Kurt himself, possibly with Sheryl drunk and or passed out in the same room. Kurt had called him after the Karofsky threatened to kill him. They didn't have that twin intuition for feeling each others pain but they were pretty good at guessing each others moves based on personality. Something as big as this couldn't be ignored. It was just impossible to process without at least hearing each other breathe together over the phone.

An actual visit would make Kurt feel a million times better. He knew without a doubt that Burt would let him go whether Sheryl approved or not. But Kurt preferred not to rock the boat. The last thing Kurt wanted was to get into a screaming match with the woman who'd once been his mother. He wouldn't be able to hold it together. He'd say horrible, horrible things that he'd never forgive himself for. Then he would cry like a baby and beg her for comfort. So for now he had to wait it out and hope that Burt and Carson would be able to talk some sense into her.