AN: Final chapter until the sequel. Again, this was my first Glee fic, and despite the lack of reviews, I truly want to thank everyone who showed their support by alerting and favoriting my story!


Burt Hummel didn't think he'd ever enjoy an argument between his two sons more. Kurt was sitting the passenger side of the car, too weak to actually get out by himself, but too stubborn to accept Finn's help.

"You can't make it on your own."

"I can make it on my own two feet, at least," Kurt hissed back.

"You're not supposed to walk yet," Finn insisted. He had spent the last week in the hospital being trained by the staff on how to lift the fragile boy without hurting him. Kurt had been miserable in the hospital, and finally been released on certain provisions. Since the family couldn't afford the in home attendant, Finn, Burt, Blaine and Carole had all been taught on how to care for him, on what signs to look for if things were going badly. He thought his teachers would be jealous over how hard he'd studied. "I'll call Blaine!" Finn threatened.

Unfortunately, no one had thought to teach Kurt on how to accept their help.

"You are not carrying me, Finn Hudson!"

"Hudson-Hummel!" Finn shot back, which seemed to deflate his brother a little.

"Kurt, it's either that or we drive back to the hospital for that wheel chair. Let Finn help you."

Kurt relented, but not without his bitch face firmly in place. He was surprised by how gentle the large boy was in handling him, barely twinging his injuries at all. Still, for the sake of his pride, he was glad when Finn lowered him onto his own bed.

Considering he hadn't been aware of two of the three weeks of his hospital stay, Kurt was surprised at how much he'd missed his home.

"Thank you," he grudgingly admitted to Finn, seeing his parents were standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

"No problem. Call me if you need anything! You're not supposed to walk yet!" Finn insisted. The staff at the hospital had acknowledge that there was a chance Kurt would heal better at home, but they hadn't been thrilled with letting him leave so soon. Had tried to scare them all with the level of help Kurt would need with even the simple things- like going to the bathroom. None of them had been deterred, not even Finn, who would be the one to do most of the lifting.

Kurt, though, had pushed the issue as he'd refused to eat the 'gruel' being served at the hospital. His already skeleton appearance made worse by his refusal to touch anything while in 'the joint'. It had panicked Burt enough to allow him home, and threaten to sign Kurt out AMA- on the promise that he would eat, and follow certain rules.

Ironically, it wasn't his ankle keeping him bed ridden, but the stab wound to his side. Still, it was so good to be home.

"Get some rest, Kurt. We'll wake you for dinner," Burt said as he gave his son a light hug.

Burt managed to hold it together until they were downstairs in the kitchen, and then he just stopped, staring at the stairs, tears running down his cheeks. "He's home. He's alive. He's home."

Carole glanced at Finn before taking the man she loved into her arms, reassuring him that they were here, and all together. It had been an extremely stressful three weeks for them. The wedding had offered them all hope, only to have it crushed. "I know."

Finn looked down at the table. "I'm sorry, Burt-"

Burt left his wife's arms, immediately crushing the quarterback with a hug. "It's not your fault, Finn. No one blames you for what happened. And I can't tell you enough how grateful I am for all your help. I'm sorry I didn't say it before. This. Was. Not. Your. Fault!"

Finn returned the hug. He'd needed to hear those words for three weeks. "Thank you, Burt."

Carole wiped away her own tears, starting to bustle around the kitchen. "Finn, why don't you go out tonight? Spend some time with your friends?" she suggested. She was a mother, and could tell her son was at the end of his rope. Knowing things were going to get a lot harder before they got easier, she felt he should take some time to himself.

Finn shook his head, sitting back down at the table. "Kurt might need something. He's still so sick."

Understanding where his wife was coming from, Burt took out a few bills. "Why don't you take that Rachel girl out? Kurt will be asleep for hours. Trust me, I know how exhausting the trip home from the hospital is."

Finn hesitated. He hadn't spent a lot of time with Rachel these past weeks, and was more than grateful that she understood, and was supportive. She loved Kurt, too. But their relationship was still a little strained. "Call Blaine," he compromised, not willing to leave the younger boy completely powerless.

Carole frowned. "Blaine has been an extraordinary friend to Kurt, Finn, but he needs time to himself too."

Finn shook his head adamantly. "Burt isn't supposed to lift Kurt, and you can't, Mom, no matter how light he is. Call Blaine."

Just then the doorbell rang, and Finn rushed to get it before it woke Kurt up. He grinned when he saw who it was, and motioned him to follow.

Burt smiled when he saw Blaine on Finn's heels. "Speak of the devil."

Blaine grinned. "Nope, just a guardian angel. My mom's been doing the 'you do remember you have a life outside that boy' thing for the past week. I figured your Mom would at least wait until Kurt was home."

Carole hesitated. "Your mother is right, Blaine. You've been amazing, no one is denying that, but-"

Blaine held up a finger in interruption. "Never follow a compliment with 'but', Mrs. Hummel, it completely ruins it. Besides, I figure I should get fed for my efforts, and Kurt tells me you're an absolute terror on his hips. That sure sounds better than the veal surprise Dalton is serving."

They'd become accustomed to Blaine's 'take charge attitude', had, in fact, been thankful for it on more than one occasion when Kurt's health had gone south. The young man had helped keep them together, keep them strong, for Kurt's sake. Now they laughed, his charming ways bringing an ease to the tension in the house.

Kurt was home and resting. The terror of the past weeks seemed to slide off them in their laughter. What could have destroyed their new family had, in fact, made it stronger. They had proven that, as a family, they could over come any obstacle.

They were all healing from the near tragedy, and they had learned to do it together. They all knew there was a long road ahead. Kurt still refused to name his attacker, and the mental impact of what had happened to him hadn't begun to hit him yet. Whether he would start eating again was a huge concern, and every degree of fever brought home the fact that he wasn't just going to magically wake up fine. But he was home. And they would help. And he would learn to accept it, from time to time.

So they laughed, and for the first time in a long time, they felt whole.