Untitled: Fair [Kurt, Burt - G]
The hallways of the hospital are cold and never empty, and Burt can't do it here, he just can't. Taking Kurt's hand, he delivers them to the sunlight, too bright for the task but blessedly private.
"It's not fair," sobs the small boy in his arms, the very image of his mother. "She's not supposed to go!"
The automatic parental response - No one ever said life was fair - dies on his lips. He'll never say it again.
"No, Kurt, you're right; it's not. I wish like anything I could make it different."