Kurt's alarm clock was greeted with an unwelcome surprise the next morning. It started beeping at 6 o' clock on the dot, as it was supposed to, and was immediately smashed into thousands of tiny pieces in a flash of sparks.

After a moment, Kurt realised what he'd done. He sat up, staring at the smithereens littering the floor. He stared at his hands In shock, when he was distracted by a strange tapping noise, like somebody walking fast on a hardwood floor.

Kurt looked around confusedly, before catching sight of a small spider walking along his desk. Kurt's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He picked up a shoe and swatted the spider with it, before he was distracted by a buzzing that was at about the same volume as a hairdryer.

Turning round in a panic, Kurt caught sight of an ordinary-looking fly buzzing around the window. Sighing, he stepped over and opened the window to let it fly outside.

He thought back to the previous night on the subway; he had thought that had been a dream, but apparently not. He had fallen asleep in the clothes he had been wearing the day before, so he quickly changed into a simple t-shirt and jeans and wandered through to the bathroom.

He picked up his toothbrush and his toothpaste, and unscrewed the lid. When he tried to squeeze some of the toothpaste onto the brush…bam. There was suddenly a pool of red, blue and white goo on the mirror. Kurt could only look at it for a moment, before scraping some of the toothpaste from the mirror onto the toothbrush.

He went to flick the faucet handle around, and it flew off followed by a gushing stream of cold water.

"Oh my God," Kurt said, exasperated, as he tried to stem the flow of water. He tried to fit the handle back on, but it was stuck to his hand. Kurt leaned against the wall, trying to decide what to do. When he reached over to try and stop the water again, there was a towel rail attached to his hand.

He tried to shake it off, but got entangled in the shower curtain in the process. He had to pry the rail from his hand, dumping the tangled mess of curtain and rail in the bath. He jammed the handle into the faucet one more time, successfully stopping the flow of water.

He gently poked it around, scraping some more toothpaste onto his toothbrush and brushing his teeth.

Kurt was extra-careful that day at school, making a conscious effort not to touch anybody for fear of hurting them or…sticking to them.

Despite a whole day of being careful, Kurt couldn't resist a bit of fun in gym class. Puck and his jock buddies were playing basketball, when Puck threw the ball at Rachel Berry, an unpopular girl who was trying to paint a banner for the school Glee club. Her bucket of paint spilled all over the banner.

Kurt could sing, and had considered joining Glee more than once, but had decided against it when he came to be recognised for his photography.

Despite not being a member, Kurt could sympathise with the Glee kids. They were unpopular, outcasts and completely different from everyone else in the school; things that Kurt could easily relate to.

"You idiot, I've been working on that for hours!" Rachel yelled at Puck, throwing her paintbrush down to the floor.

Kurt walked over and picked the basketball up. "Don't worry about him, Rachel, his brain isn't developed enough for emotions," He said, smiling and walking towards Puck with the basketball.

"Dude, just give me the basketball," Puck said, holding his hand out.

"Just take it," Kurt said, holding the basketball towards Puck.

When Puck stepped towards him and was about to take the basketball, Kurt spun it around his back so that it was in his other hand within the space of a second.

Puck looked at him in confusion for a second, before reaching to take it again.

Kurt lifted the ball and spun it around Puck's head, and back into his other hand before Puck could even register what had happened.

"What the hell are you playing at, Hummel?" Puck asked threateningly, taking a step towards Kurt.

"Nothing!" Kurt said, unable to stop a grin from spreading across his face. "Just take it."

Puck took another, more hesitant step towards Kurt, before trying to take the basketball out of Kurt's outstretched hand. It wouldn't move. Glancing back at the other jocks, who were all looking incredulously at the show, Puck pulled harder but to no avail.

"Freakin' weirdo…" Puck muttered, shaking his head as he turned and began to walk away. Kurt threw the basketball at his back, from where it bounced straight back at him.

Puck turned and glared at him. Kurt smiled innocently back at him, bouncing the basketball.

Puck raised an eyebrow. Kurt sprinted forwards, still bouncing the ball. He jumped up towards the basket, unaware that every eye in the room was on him.

He shoved the ball through the basket, and his ears were met by an almost-deafening shattering noise. He fell to the floor amidst a pool of broken glass. He had broken the basketball hoop.

When he straightened up, everybody was staring at him in shock.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said to Burt as they walked away from the principal's office.

"For the thousandth time, I know," Burt replied, rolling his eyes. When they reached the front doors of the school, Burt took hold of Kurt's shoulder. "I had to change shifts at work to come and see you here, so I need you to pick up Aunt Carole at 4 o' clock, alright?" He said, squeezing Kurt's shoulder.

"I will," Kurt said, smiling at Burt.

"Good," Burt said, fixing Kurt with a stern glare. "I'll see you later."

After school, Kurt got home and saw his father's files sitting under his laptop. A wave of guilt overcame him, and after some googling, he picked them up and stuffed them into his backpack.

He was at Doctor Underbridge's house within half an hour. When Paul answered the door, Kurt smiled.

"Hello, sir," He said pleasantly.

"Oh…you were an intern at Oscorp the other day, weren't you?" Paul said. Kurt began to nod. "Sorry, but this is my home, I try to keep business limited to the office."

As he began to shut the front door, Kurt shoved his foot in the gap. "Please, I just wanted to give you something," He said,

When he was inside, Kurt stood swinging his arms, unsure of what to say.

"So, why are you here, exactly?" Paul asked, looking at Kurt speculatively.

"I'm Richard Hummel's son," Kurt blurted out, before he could stop himself.

Paul's eyes widened. "Kurt…" He muttered, recognition dawning on his face. "You look just like him," He commented. Kurt smiled, looking down and pushing his glasses further up his nose. "So what did you need?" Paul asked, sounding friendlier.

"I wanted to give you these," Kurt said, pulling his dad's files out from his bag.

Paul took them, leafing through them. "Thank you, Kurt…" He said, sounding awe-struck. "Say, you wouldn't happen to want to come down to the lab after school to help me out?" Paul said, smiling warmly at Kurt.

"Sure, yeah!" Kurt smiled and nodded, pulling his bag back over his shoulders.

Later on, Kurt walked home, a feeling of euphoria over him. He was going to be following in his dad's footsteps, working with one of the most advanced scientists in the world.

The happiness evaporated as soon as he walked into the house, though. Burt was waiting for him at the door, arms folded and eyes narrowed.

"Did you forget something this afternoon?" Burt asked, fixing Kurt with a stare.

Kurt was silent.

"I believe I told you to pick up your aunt at 4 o' clock," Burt said.
Kurt gasped. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't…I had other things…" He stammered, his eyes wide.

"Kurt, I told you to do this one simple little thing," Burt said. "And you didn't do it."

"I know, Uncle Burt, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot and I didn't see the time," Kurt said, trying to reason with his uncle.

"Your aunt had to walk home in the dark after waiting for you," Burt said angrily, almost shouting.

Carole stood up from the sofa in the living room. "Burt, it's okay!" She said. "I can look after myself!"

"But you shouldn't have to!" Burt cried. "Kurt, your father used to have a saying. A man's responsibility is his priority."

Kurt stayed silent, staring fixedly at the white tips of his dark blue Converse.

"You've really disappointed me tonight, Kurt." Burt said.

"I know, I already said I was sorry!" Kurt said, beginning to get exasperated.

"Well sometimes sorry isn't good enough!" Burt cried.

"Burt, it's fine," Carole said, trying to console her husband.

"No, it isn't," Burt said, glaring at Kurt.

"I'm going out," Kurt said, glaring at Burt before turning towards the door.

"Where do you go at this time of night?" Burt asked incredulously, throwing his arms out. "You go out in the mornings, and don't get home until the late hours of the night, when you eat twice your weight in food before falling asleep in your clothes and then just repeating the process!"

"Well maybe it's time to change things up a bit, I'm going out again!" Kurt said. He opened the door and stepped out, slamming it shut behind him. The glass in the door shattered. Kurt turned to see Carole with a hand on her heart, and Burt with his arm around her.

Before anyone could say anything else, Kurt walked away.

Kurt arrived at a 24-hour shop. He put a bottle of Diet Coke on the counter, and threw some money beside it.

"Not enough." The cashier said shortly.

"Pardon?" Kurt asked, an eyebrow raised.

"You're 2 cents short," The cashier said. "You need more money."

"I don't have any more money." Kurt told him, rolling his eyes.

"Then you can't have the drink," The cashier said, pushing the money back towards Kurt.

"It's 2 cents, can't you just give it to me?" Kurt cried.

"That's not how I roll," The cashier said, shaking his head.

Kurt groaned, grabbing his money and shoving it in his pocket. He began to walk out of the shop, when another man arrived at the cash register to buy a six-pack of beer.

"Could I get a bag for this?" The man asked after giving the cashier his money. When the cashier's back was turned, he grabbed as much money from the cash register as he could. When he saw Kurt watching, he raised a finger to his lips and threw him the bottle of Coke.

Kurt walked out, numbly staring at the Coke. He was across the road when he saw the man run out of the shop, followed by the cashier.

"Go after him!" The cashier called to Kurt.

"That's not how I roll," Kurt called back, shrugging exaggeratedly.

Kurt walked along the street a bit further, ignoring the yells of the cashier echoing down the street. He opened his Coke, taking a sip.

There was an ear-shattering bang.

Kurt dropped the bottle of Coke in surprise, looking across the street just in time to see a familiar man in a baseball cap falling to the ground.
He paled.

Kurt crossed the empty road numbly, his sense of dread growing as he neared the man lying on the street.

He knelt beside his Uncle Burt, who was clearly unconscious, blood pouring steadily from a wound in his torso.

"Uncle Burt…" Kurt whimpered, taking his hoodie jacket off and pressing it against the wound, trying to stop the blood flow.

He blinked hard, trying to stop the tears that were suddenly falling. He raised his hands to try and wipe the tears from his face, but his hands were covered in warm, sticky blood.

Kurt let out a sob, trying in vain to shake Burt awake. "Someone call an ambulance!" He screamed, as loud as possible.

He stayed with Burt as long as he could, trying to stay calm and stop him losing too much blood.

Kurt arrived home in the dead of night – or the morning, depending on how you looked at it – having been abandoned on the street when the paramedics took Burt. Carole was talking to some police officers at the kitchen table, wiping her eyes every few seconds.

They stood up.

"We'll tell you if we have any new leads, ma'am," One of the police officers said, squeezing Carole's shoulder reassuringly.

"Thank you…" Carole muttered shakily, leaning against one of the chairs for support.

"Can I have that?" Kurt asked one of the police officers shakily, reaching for the artist's rendition of the criminal.

"Sure, son," The police officer said, handing the sketch to Kurt. "Another thing, he has a tattoo of a star on his left wrist."

"Thank you," Kurt muttered, trying to smile at the Police officer.

The police officer smiled sympathetically back at him, patting his shoulder twice before leaving.

"Oh, Kurt…" Carole said tearfully. Kurt stepped towards her, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Aunt Carole…" Kurt muttered, bending down to bury his face in her shoulder.

"Darling, it's not your fault," She said tearfully, rubbing his back.

Kurt couldn't bring himself to tell her that it really was his fault.

Later, when Kurt had gone to bed, Kurt picked up his phone which had been left on his desk. Displayed on the screen was a small message: '27 missed calls, 1 new message'.

Kurt picked his phone up, and listened to his message.

"Hey, Kurt…" Came Burt's voice. "I know things have been rough for you, but I just wanted to remind you that Carole and I are so proud of you. We love you so much, and…it feels like we don't remind you of that enough." Kurt put a hand over his mouth, trying not to cry and attract Carole's attention.

"I'm sorry for being angry at you earlier, Kurt. You're a teenager, and you like going out with your friends…just tell us next time, alright? We love you. Please come home."

Kurt gave up on trying not to cry and threw himself on his bed, sobbing into his pillow.

A/N

Sitting here trying not to cry while my parents are in the room.

What was meant to be a short, funny chapter turned into this. Over 2500 words of angst. Sorry.

I don't even know what to say, except thank you for all your favourites/follows/reviews. I say it a lot, but each one truly does mean so much to me.