Author's Note:

So this is different from my other fics. First, it's AU, and Second, I never intended on writing it. That is, until today a friend suggested that I do, and well, I guess after being home sick for 3 days I needed something to do.

This all stems from a dream I had a number of months ago. Like I said, I hadn't planned on putting it into a story, but here it is. I hope you enjoy.

I do not own Glee.

Independent Living

She looked around at the small, one room apartment, impressed with her client. Although minimally furnished, it was well decorated. The tiny kitchen had a real set of chinaware, donated by foster parents that had known him years ago but had kept in touch. He had bought the fabric for the curtains on his windows with his own money, and had sown them together with beautiful stitching. The twin bed had high thread count sheets, one of the many things he had asked for Christmas last year, this impending day always on his mind. And with the $1000 for furniture he had been given, he had used his boyish charm and good looks, together with his shrewd knowledge of fashion, to get the very best deals at a local antique dealership. Kurt Hummel had been preparing for this day for 10 years, and he had mapped out every detail in his mind, sharing it along the way with the social worker who had stood by him through thick and thin.

It hadn't always been easy. When his mother had died when he was only 8 years old, his father couldn't take the thought of living without her for too long. He tried his best, but his heart gave way soon after, despite having a beautiful son to take care of. Kurt had of course been devastated, but he had since grown to love the romantic nature of his parents' deaths. He only hoped that someday he might find that one person with whom he couldn't live without; his soulmate.

Kurt had grown up in foster care, some homes good, some not so good. He was never abused, his social worker wouldn't have stood for that, but sometimes good homes were hard to find and love was scarce. He had been in 4 homes by the time he was 16, one for almost five years, before circumstances changed and he needed to say goodbye. He still had contact with them, and he knew if he needed a place to go for the holidays, they would always be there. But he also knew they weren't a forever family. So when his social worker asked what he wanted to do a few weeks before he left, he knew his answer. He was done with foster homes, it was time to move out on his own.

At 16, he went into an independent living program, a place that both allowed him to finish up his last years of childhood while preparing him to go out in the world and live on his own. It was in Lima, Ohio, and he made a wonderful group of friends in the Glee Club at his high school, McKinley High. McKinley wasn't really the place for a gay teenager, much less a foster child, but his friends were all the support he needed. The bullying started and ended quickly as soon as he told his social worker what was happening and she stepped in to have meetings with both the Principal and the Superintendent. Kurt was able to happily finish his years there, even winning a National's trophy with his team, The New Directions, their senior year.

And in the meantime, he worked at the local mall, always saving money, knowing what turning 18 meant. Sure, he had the right to stay in foster care while he went to college, but he wasn't sure that college was for him, not yet. He wanted to be a performer and he wanted to go to New York. But he knew it wasn't right for him to go right away. Given everything he'd been through, he wasn't ready to take on the scary world of New York City quite yet, nor would the colleges he wanted to go to accept him. He was graduating high school, but he'd had little opportunity to perform beyond the school drama club, and he knew he needed real credits in order to get into schools like NYADA or NYU. And even if he decided to pursue fashion design instead, he would need a portfolio, something he just didn't have. So he had talked to his social worker and decided that it was best for him to stay here, in this one room efficiency for a year, while he pursued his dreams in Ohio, and built up a resume for a journey next year. He would scout out the local community theaters, and even the professional theaters in Columbus or Cincinnati. He could perform or work with the costume departments, it didn't matter, as long as he gained experience and maybe could earn a little money at the same time. And secretly, he held out a little hope that he might find a special someone with whom he could fall in love and build a dream life together. But that was a childish dream, built on romantic fantasies.

This was the real world. He sat on his bed, looking up at the one person who managed to stay by him for the entire journey. He didn't know how she had done it. Most of the other kids in foster care that he had met had social workers come and go all the time. Many transferred to new workers when they entered adolescence. She had just always told him that she wouldn't let him go until it was truly time. He knew she had fought for him, time and time again. He knew he was lucky, that most kids didn't have that. He knew he shouldn't love her, but a part of him did, and he guessed a part of her loved him as well.

For many kids in foster care, their 18th birthday was the happiest and saddest and scariest day of their lives, and Kurt felt that a hundred times over. He was excited to move on, to put behind him all the rules and regulations and policies and problems that had caused him so much hassle over the last 10 years. Background checks just to stay over at a friend's house, dances he had missed because foster parents had said no, schools he'd had to leave because of a change in foster homes, holidays he'd hated because he was with the wrong people. But all those rules and regulations were also a lifeline to him, giving him a path to follow. Now he'd chosen to be on his own and it was terrifying and amazing at the same time. And he was sad. Sad to lose her, although he knew he could always call and he would. But it wouldn't be the same. No more monthly check-ins. No more weekly phone calls. No more someone to bail him out of trouble when he needed it. The only person left to advocate for him was himself, and while he was really good at it, it was easier with someone next to him.

He sat on his bed and looked up at her and she stared down, smiling, allowing him this time to think. Finally, she kneeled down and took his hand. "You've done good with this place, Kurt Hummel, you should be proud. If I thought I wouldn't get in trouble, I'd have you come decorate my place in an instant," she said.

"And I'd be happy to do it," he grinned at her.

"I'm really going to miss you," she said, her eyes tearing. "You better call me anytime anything important happens, good or bad, understand!"

"Of course," he said laughing, trying to blink back his own tears. "Who else would I call?"

She smiled as she pulled a present out of her bag and left it on the kitchen counter. "Just a little housewarming gift for my favorite kid," she said as she started to head out the door.

"Why do you do it?" he called after her, and she turned to face him. It was a question he had frequently wanted to ask her. "Why do you put up with all the heartache and the frustration and the tears. I saw kids around me fall apart, hate their workers, push them away. Why do you do it?"

She thought for a moment and smiled. "I do it for you Kurt. Because every once in a while, we all get lucky and find someone just like you. And to get to be just a small part of your life makes it worth dealing with everything else."

She turned and walked out his door for maybe the 150th time, and maybe the last.

Kurt took a deep breath as he looked around at his apartment. It was everything he wanted it to be. He had waited for this moment since entering his first foster home 10 years ago, and now it was finally here.

Independence.

A/N: So there it is, short and sweet. I don't know if I plan on continuing or not, so please leave me some reviews and tell me what you think.