Would You?

All previous disclaimers apply.

Author's Note: Hopeful, rather than happy, ending and epilogue. I hope you enjoy it! Once again OOC, but what else is new? Let me know what you think if you have a moment. Happy ending will be up in a few days! Thank so much! T.H.


Noah's funeral was held on Sunday. Kurt didn't go. He'd planned to, but when Sunday morning rolled around he couldn't find the strength to get out of the bed. He tried. He made it all the way to the bathroom and into the shower before his knees gave out and he fell to the floor of his tub, unable to find the further strength to move. He just laid there, tears leaking slowly out of his eyes and mixing with the shower water. He laid there, the water growing cold around him until his father found him. Without a care for his suit he wrapped his son in a towel and carried him to the bed. He dried Kurt off gently, brushed his hair so that it wouldn't knot, then bundled him into his robe and tucked him into his bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin and tucking them under his shoulders. Kurt just stared straight ahead the entire time, not really seeing him, but he didn't worry about it. He had been the exact same way when Connie died. The only way he'd gotten to the funeral was because his sister had dressed him and led him by the hand. He didn't remember it anyway, and didn't think Kurt would if he forced him to go to Noah's. Better that he could tell Kurt about it later –much later when he felt ready to ask- than to worry about him the entire time they were there. Better that he would be available for Noah's mother to lean on his strength. He got a glass of water and a couple of aspirin, set them on Kurt's beside table and leaned down to kiss his son's forehead.

"I'm going now, son," He whispered gently, "I have my phone and it'll be on vibrate the entire time. You call me if you need anything. I'll be back soon."

Kurt just rolled over. Burt didn't take it personally.

"I love you, son."

Kurt barely heard his father leave. He thought that perhaps he slept, but he wasn't quite sure. It didn't feel like he was dreaming when he relived watching Noah's body tossed in the air by a car as if he weighed no more than a rag doll. Had it really only been that morning that he had marveled over how much stronger than him Noah was? When Noah had been on the ground, his life pouring out around him, he had seemed so small, so childlike. He didn't remember a lot from the accident and beyond. Just a few impressions. Noah's body flying through the air. How weak Noah's grip had been when he tried to squeeze Kurt's hand. Noah's eyes when Kurt had uttered the words "I love you forever." They told him that he had stayed with Noah in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, that he had stayed with Noah even when they had taken him down to the morgue. He didn't really remember reading up on Jewish customs, though he knew he had when he had first started 'seeing' Noah. The only thing that had been able to penetrate his mind that day had been that Noah would be buried in the clothes he had worn when he died, because of the blood on them. And Noah could not be alone until he was buried. Someone needed to say prayers every hour. He didn't know the prayers and he didn't know anyone else Jewish but Rachel. He'd thought that maybe her dad could help him and had called her, though he didn't remember the conversation. Because everything had to be right for Noah. It was the last thing Kurt could do for him.

"Kurt?" Rachel had come in with her dad holding her hand. At least, he thought she had. She had taken his hand and led him toward the door of the morgue, away from Noah.

"He has to be buried in those clothes," Kurt had murmured, "Don't let them destroy them when the police look at him. The paramedics said they would have to look at him. Don't let them do anything that his mom wouldn't like. Don't let them hurt him."

"No one's going to hurt him, Kurt. It'll be okay. Just come with me now. My dad will take care of everything. I promise. He won't let them do anything his mom wouldn't like. Come on."

Kurt had followed her. His dad came to get him. He'd taken him home and sat him on the edge of his tub. It wasn't until his father was rubbing the warm, wet washcloth over his cheek and it came away pink that it hit him what had happened. Noah was gone. And he wasn't coming back. Kurt had fallen into his father's arms making a noise that he could only describe as a scream. Burt had just held him until he was too weak to make a move or a noise any longer. Then he had finished cleaning him up and put him to bed. He thought he had perhaps slept all of Saturday because he couldn't remember anything about it at all. There was a vague memory of a scent that might have belonged to Mercedes, but he couldn't remember if she had actually been there or not.

He knew that she was there when he came back to himself because she was wrapped around him, holding him to her chest, singing to him quietly. He put his arms around her and held on. He realized he'd been crying in his sleep, which was why she'd gotten on the bed with him and held him. He could feel the tears cooling on his cheeks. So, he let her hold him and he let himself feel the slightest comfort as she did so. She was all in black. She had come from Noah's funeral.

"How was it?" He asked quietly after a time.

"It was hard," she told him quietly, "His mother and his sister…"

"I should have been there."

"Everyone understood why you couldn't be. She asked me to tell you thank you, for making sure there was someone there with him. She said it was important. She asked for you to come visit whenever you feel up to it."

He nodded and let himself fall asleep in her arms.

When he woke again Mercedes was gone and he had no way of knowing how long he had been sleeping. He didn't even know what time or what day it was. He looked at his phone. Monday. Eleven in the morning. His father should be at work. So, why did he hear him puttering about upstairs? He was probably there to make sure that Kurt was going to be alright. He always took care of him. And now they just had one more thing in common. Suddenly he needed to be with his father. He needed his dad to hold him. He needed his strength. Kurt managed to drag himself to his bathroom despite the fact that his head felt like it was three times its normal size and his body protested ever single move he made. He looked at himself in the mirror, frowned slightly at the hollow look in his eyes and the bags under them. Hadn't he been sleeping for days? He stepped into the shower and washed as quickly as his body would allow before stepping out. Towel drying himself exhausted him, but he didn't allow himself to get back into the bed. Instead be put on some loose sweatpants he used for lounging and cleaning. He considered his shirts before he remembered the shirt that Noah had left once. He dug it out of the bottom of his dresser and slipped it over his head. It didn't smell of Noah anymore. He'd washed it after Noah had left it. But, it made him feel better to have something of Noah's wrapped around him. He walked up the stairs slowly and found his father seated in his favorite chair not really watching whatever was on the television.

"Hey, kiddo," He said as soon as he saw Kurt. He turned off the television and put down the footrest, "How are you feeling, son?"

"I'm okay right now," Kurt answered quietly, "I don't know…"

"Five minutes from now could be a whole other story. I know, Kurt, I know. Trust me, bud. How about something to eat? You haven't eaten in a couple of days. You must feel weak as a kitten."

"Sure," Kurt said quietly. He watched as his dad threw together an egg white omelet with spinach for him. It almost made him smile that his dad remembered his biggest comfort food. Almost. His eyes filled with tears from out of nowhere, but he managed to get the omelet down anyway. He knew that he had to eat. He at it all and drank his glass of orange juice under his fathers watchful eye. When they went back into the living room he waited until his dad had settled back into his chair and just stood looking.

"Do you want to talk, Kurt?" Burt asked quietly.

"Please," Kurt whispered.

"Then, come here, son," Burt opened his arms and Kurt hurled himself toward his father. He settled himself on his lap and tucked his head under his father's strong chin. Burt rubbed his back slowly and put up the footrest so that they were both comfortable. When Kurt began to sob Burt began to speak again, "Aw, Kurt. I never wanted this to happen to you, son. I know what it's like and it's the worst pain you'll ever feel. I wish I could take it away. You have no idea how much I wish I could take it away."

"It's not fair, Dad!" Kurt sobbed, holding tight to his father. Burt wrapped him more securely in his arms.

"I know, son, I know."

"I loved him so much! Why would someone do something like…why did they have to take him away? We weren't doing anything wrong! We were just in love!"

"People are hurtful, Kurt. And people are stupid. All I know is you and Noah didn't do anything but refuse to be who you are. You were both in the right, son. It's the people who did this that were wrong. And they're going to get caught, son. You have believe that."

"It should have been me!" Kurt forced around his sobs, "He pushed me out of the way! And I was so angry! I thought that he was just playing around, but my hands were all scratched up and I was going to yell at him, but I turned and he was…flying through the air and he hit the ground so hard and he never got up again and I just…It should have been me!"

"No, Kurt!" Burt took his son's chin in his fingers and tilted his face so that he could look in his son's face, "Son, if there's one thing I know it's that Noah saved two lives when he pushed you out of the way of that car. If you were gone, son, do you think that I would have any reason to live? Noah didn't just save you, son. He saved me, too. And I like to think that he knew it."

"You hated him, Dad!" Kurt sobbed and buried his face again.

"I didn't hate him, Kurt. I hated that I was losing you when I thought we were just starting to connect. The way you looked at him…I knew it was the same thing that I had with your mom. It was love. It's hard for a parent to see it when they still think their kid's a baby. But, I didn't hate Noah, Kurt. I think that if we'd had more time together I might have even liked him. Hell, I like him now. He gave his life for you. How could I not like him? We're never going to forget him, Kurt. And you're going to honor him every day you live. And…here's the main thing, son, you're never going to stop loving him. He's never really gone if you never stop loving him."

"I miss him, Dad! I want him back!'

Burt rocked Kurt gently as his son sobbed, trying to hold his own tears in. It was the worst kind of hell, having your child in so much pain that you couldn't take away. Burt knew from experience that the only thing he could do was be there for Kurt and in the end it would be the best thing for him, but, Jesus, it hurt that he couldn't do more. He simply kept rocking and shushing, rubbing Kurt's back and fighting back his own tears.

"I know, son," he repeated the words he would say again and again in the next few months, "I know."

Nearly a week later Kurt stood in front of Noah's apartment door, his hand raised to knock and unable to do it. He'd been standing there for nearly an hour trying to work up the courage to knock, praying that someone would take the matter out of his hands. A moment later somebody did when the door opened to reveal Rebeka Puckerman, looking at him with tear filled and understanding eyes.

"Everyone in this building knows everyone else pretty well," She said quietly, "Mrs. Guttenberg across the hall called to tell me that a young man has been standing outside my door for a couple of hours looking like he wants to talk to me."

"It's only been about an hour, actually," Kurt blushed and ran a hand through his hair, "Hi, Ms. Puckerman, I'm…"

"Kurt," Rebeka said quietly, "I know. Please, sweetheart, come in. Would you like something to drink?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Kurt said quietly.

"Sit down, please, sweetie. You weren't at the funeral. I never really got to thank you for what you did for Noah. It's very important, in the Jewish tradition, that the body of a loved one is not left alone from the time they die until they are buried. And getting Mr. Berry in there to say the prayers…It meant a lot, sweetheart."

"You're welcome," Kurt said softly, "I…Ms. Puckerman…"

"Please call me Rebeka, Kurt."

"Rebeka…I'm so sorry I wasn't at the funeral. I should have been there. I…" Kurt sniffled a little and looked down when his eyes filled with tears yet again. He'd been crying for days. He hadn't gone back to school yet. Coming to Noah's apartment was the first time he had even been out of his house. He'd tried to steel himself so that he wouldn't break down in front of Rebeka. She had enough on her shoulders. Kurt had lost Noah, but so had she. She had lost her son. She didn't need to deal with his pain as well as hers.

"Kurt, it's okay, sweetheart," Rebeka reached over and set a hand over his, gripping his knee, "We can go to the cemetery any time to see him. Together, if you like, if you feel like you don't want to go alone. It's a beautiful plot. It…overlooks a pond."

"He would have liked that," Kurt murmured, "He loved…" He choked on the tears he was holding back.

"Oh, Kurt. It's okay, sweetheart. I…I miss him, too."

Kurt looked up to see her looking at a picture she had set on the coffee table, tears pouring down her face.

"I…told him, when he came out to me, that I wasn't ready to meet you yet. And I am so sorry. I wish I could have seen the two of you together. He had so much love for you, Kurt. It was in his eyes and in his voice. You…Kurt, I've talked to so many people, Quinn, Finn, your teachers, everyone and they've all said that you…He said he loved me and Miri for one of the first times in three years the day he died. The only other time I'd heard it from him since middle school was the day he came out. You were the best thing that happened in his life. You brought my boy back to life. I just wish there had been more time for him to show us all what he could have been." She covered her mouth with her hand and began to sob quietly.

"He loved you and Miri so much," Kurt said quietly, "He would never admit it, but he loved to talk about you. He wanted to make you as proud of him as he was of Miri."

"Kurt…" Rebeka reached out for him. Kurt didn't try to hold in his sob and fell to his knees, throwing his arms around her waist. She bent over him, stroking his hair.

"I'm sorry!" He sobbed.

"No," She cried, "It wasn't your fault."

"I loved him so much!"

"I know. He loved you, too."

When they had finally calmed they were able to smile at each other softly. Rebeka wiped the remainder of Kurt's tears from his face and he tucked her hair back into the loose braid that she had it in. They both laughed a little at their antics. It was brittle, and not real, but it felt good that they at least attempted it. She led him to Noah's room and told him to take anything of Noah's that he wanted. He asked her if there was anything that she would particularly not like him to take and she simply kissed his forehead and told him that she had a lifetime of memories of her baby. He could take whatever made him feel good. Kurt sat on Noah's bed for a long time, simply looking about the room, but no one came to bother him. When he finally left the room he was carrying Noah's guitar and the hoodie Noah had pulled over his head when they had watched the sunrise. Rebeka met him at the door with Noah's leather jacket and a framed picture of Noah looking over his shoulder and smiling.

"I want you to have these, too," She murmured, "He would want you to have them. Please…" She pulled him into a hug, "Don't be a stranger, Kurt. Please. You were the last one to see him. I need to have you around. I want you to be around."

"I want to be around, too." Kurt said, and surprised himself with how much he meant it, "I want to be here for you and Miri. Maybe I can take her to the park this weekend. The one you used to take her and…Noah to after their dad…Maybe we could all go together."

"I think we'd all like that." They both pulled away with tears in their eyes and knew that they meant every word.