I thought I'd better not drag this out too long, as we've all had enough Hummel angst this week. Thanks for your continuing reviews and story alerts.

Varda Elena, I feel I should make one more comment on your review: Kurt isn't German. I'm one of the writers that had Kurt's parents mash their names together to get his name. Which means we should all be glad Kurt's dad isn't named Sam, or Kurt's name might be Kum.

Square brackets [ ] indicate dialogue translated into English.

Part Four

The night it happened, Kurt had made a break for the basement.

He'd realized the moment that the three of them had burst through the front door that he was in trouble. They were tossing stuff into garbage bags; the expensive stuff, but it could be replaced. But it was lazy, only things that happened to be in arms reach. They were all looking at him.

It was the first time anyone wanted him, and he didn't appreciate it at all.

He jumped off the couch, making a wreck of the living room tossing end tables and ottomans in their path. That slowed them, and he ran for his room hoping that once he was armed he'd be able to scare them off.

Unfortunately, a fourth guy came through the back door, presumably to block off any escape. Decent thinking on their part (or rather planning, since none of them seemed capable of coherent thought right now), but the guy was also standing between Kurt and the basement stairs.

Damnit.

Kurt kicked the guy in the face. Hard. The guy didn't even wince. "He's bendy. They'll pay more for that, right?"

Fuck.

Kurt realized, a split second before it would have been too late, that the three behind him were almost on top of him. He went low and dove for the kitchen. If he couldn't make it to his hope chest, this was a close second. The knife block-

Was empty.

Where the hell were the knives?

Finn. Finn had cleaned up last night. And despite insistent reminders that it was bad for the handles, Finn always put them in the dishwasher.

One of them grabbed him by his collar. Kurt grabbed the knife block and slammed it against the guy's hand, which went limp. It stayed like that only for a second, but Kurt was able to pull free.

If one of them gets a solid hold on me, I've had it.

Kurt made a break for the dishwasher. He flung it open and pulled out the longest two knives he saw. Kurt crossed them in front of his chest, making damn sure they saw them. "Stay back!"

"…Kurt…."

They were still coming. I don't know what to do.

"[Keep your tips up. Pull back on the sharp edge]"

I can't.

"Stay back! Stay the fuck back!"

"Kurt!"

Burt had put himself in front of Kurt. Gently shaking the boy now that it seemed he wasn't going to accidentally kill them all. Kurt was clearly reliving the night of the attack, but from somewhere else as this still, quiet body didn't seem to have anyone in it.

"Kurt! KURT!" Mercedes seemed to be as panicked as Kurt was (wherever Kurt was). The only reason she wasn't there, shaking him a lot harder than Burt was, was that Puck had pulled her half into his arms. Comforting her maybe, Burt sure as hell didn't have the attention for it.

"Kurt. Come on, baby." Burt's eyes were filled with tears. God damn it, how could someone do this to his kid. "It's over, kiddo. It's Monday. Don't you remember? You went to school, and now you're home." Fuck, maybe that wouldn't help. "You're with me. You're safe."

"[Mommy?]" Kurt's face still looked like an empty Halloween mask, but there was a voice there. And where there was a voice….

"No. Kurt, it's me," Burt begged. "Listen to me. You're with me. You're safe. Come on, baby. We need you to come back. Come back to today, okay?"

"[…today…]" And just like that he was back. Kurt's eyes focused on his father's. Confused. "Dad?"

"Yeah. That's me." Burt held his son as tightly as he dared. Mercedes had buried her head in Puck's chest and was sobbing.

Kurt pulled back. He must have realized what had just happened because he looked rattled. He made a half glance back towards the dishwasher. Burt was just about to stop him, but Kurt didn't freeze up again.

He ran. The door to the basement slammed so hard it was likely to have popped back open.

As Carole herded the kids out of the house (though it was likely to require a bulldozer, especially for Finn and Mercedes), Burt went downstairs to find Kurt at his vanity, already dressed for bed, frantically scrubbing his face with one of his more vicious looking scrub pads. "Hey. Buddy, you're gonna wear the finish off," Burt told him, worried.

Kurt threw the scrub pad onto his vanity. "This is so stupid," he sniffled.

"Kurt, it's only been a couple of days," Burt reminded him. "I know you don't want to hear this, but there are going to be days where everything goes to hell, just like after we lost your mom."

"I'm not going to get any better."

Burt hugged Kurt again. "Of course you are. Forget about the last couple of minutes. The rest of the day went okay, didn't it?"

Kurt shuddered. "No. No, it didn't." He pulled back again, this time moving to sit on his hope chest. "I- The only reason I was okay- I brought it to school with me."

Burt nodded. "I kind of figured that at breakfast. It was- Well, it was kind of like seeing your mom again."

Kurt looked up, surprised. "I- I didn't think about that. All I could think the entire time I had it on was that I was literally dressed to kill. Kill again."

"Yeah, I think that's something we get that we can't quite get you to believe," Burt stated quietly. "You're the only one who thinks you're some kind of monster."

"Dad, I'm a killer."

Burt winced. "Kurt, no-"

"Yes I am," Kurt insisted. "That what they trained me to be. Even mom. I hate it! I don't want to be like that. But it's the only time I feel in control. When I don't have a weapon, in my hand or tucked in my waistband, I-" He broke off, gesturing in the general direction of the kitchen.

Burt had to think about that. "I know this is really freaking you out. But Kurt, I really think we've got to deal with what just happened before we have the luxury to figure out who you are."

Kurt's jaw dropped, thunderstruck. It made Burt feel like a complete jerk, but before he could apologize Kurt said, "I guess that makes sense. Do you- Do you want me to see that psychiatrist? I guess if I'm just focusing on the break-in that'd be okay. I have too many secrets to talk about anything else."

Kurt agreeing to get help should have made Burt's day. But the way Kurt said it made Burt feel old and worn down. "I know how important it is for you to be honest about who you are. I wish you didn't have to keep so many secrets."

"Finn and Carole… if this hadn't happened…" Kurt sighed and shook his head. "I think I'm going to go to sleep now."

"You're not finishing your face thing?" Burt asked. And really, that scared him as much as anything else that Kurt had done tonight.

Kurt smiled sadly, trying to soothe his father's fears. "I'd rather spend an extra hour tomorrow morning on it than try to stay awake much longer."

"Sure thing," Burt told him, though Burt still didn't feel better. "You know, your school doesn't have metal detectors yet, and since I know you're not going to butcher your classmates, even if you don't-"

"Dad," Kurt interrupted with an aggravated sigh.

"I'm serious. Maybe, for the next little while, what they don't know won't hurt them."

Kurt was too surprised to reply with anything else but a cartoon blink. Burt started back up the stairs. He was mumbling something, and he'd barely gotten to the bottom landing when he stopped, thinking. "Is something wrong, dad."

Burt turned around, and to Kurt's surprise he was smiling. "No. Get into bed, [little pogol]. I think I actually remember how that damn lullaby went."

Kurt raised a surprised eyebrow, but did as he was asked. Burt sat by Kurt's pillow and sang. Burt's voice wasn't quite as powerful as Kurt's or Kasha's, but it was solid like he was. Burt just hoped he didn't have to switch back to English and ruin what was a really pretty little song.

[I met a little water pogol

Singing song and yodel-odol

Pulling deep his roe and older

Till he can meet the sun again.

[I glimpsed a little starry-o

Dancing round the sunny oh

Wishing for a hidey-ho

To rest away from sun again.

[I burrowed in my burrow neatly

Dreaming dream of moss and algae

Hoping you will wake so sweetly

When you face the sun again.]

Kurt slept soundly. And unlike his promise on Saturday, this time Kurt's rest was peaceful. Until he could face the sun again.

Okay, this is really the end now. I think I want to do something with the Glee kids, but this story has been about Kurt and Burt, so I think anything else should be it's own story.

The new story is coming along pretty well. There's a genre change, I hope I don't lose all of this story's fans with it.