55. Worst day of his life.

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{Kurt}

Driving Cary's truck made Kurt feel a little safer. The rumble of the engine, the height of his seat over the rest of the traffic on the street cheered him a tiny bit. He was trying not to think about Jon's eyes passing like search lights over the front of his body as he took his phone to check it.

It took a minute to realize his fingers were shaking and his heart was going like they needed to run run run. Days in his father's house, when Kurt had edged around the aftermath of an explosion of Rob Klassen's temper until he could escape out the back door and get as far away as possible, were shaking in his chest. Kurt had promised himself he was never going back and here he was again.

There was no question in Kurt's mind that Jon was stronger than he was and Jon was more stubborn than he was—whatever Jon White wanted from him, he could crowd Kurt into a corner and just take it.

Kurt cranked up the heat, turning the vents on his shivering body. Jon wouldn't do that. He thought he wouldn't. But Kurt's track record with men wasn't great and he couldn't reason with his fear. He had thousands of days living with his father and Nicky compared to the handful living with Jon, and Jon didn't look different enough right now not to smush into the ball of every other controlling man Kurt had ever been with.

His hands were freezing; it felt like winter was just around the corner. Kurt stuffed them under his armpits while he waited for the light to turn, leaning against the steering wheel feeling his heartbeat drumming.

Kurt had scraped together just enough self-worth on his way out of those relationships to want to keep it. He wasn't doing this one more time. Someone did have to stand up for Kurt Visser, and the only person left to do that was Kurt himself. If he couldn't go toe to toe with Jon and make his voice heard, he was at least staying the hell away from the strength of Jon's will.

Their AA meeting wasn't for another hour, but Laurel had texted him to meet at the near-by McDonalds. As Kurt got out of the truck, he checked the parking lot for anyone he knew, any of Nicky's friends. Sighing, he grabbed the pony cap from Cary's backseat and jammed it over his hair, slouching as he crossed the parking lot so his height wasn't so obvious.

Laurel's daughter, Molly, was swinging from her hand as they stood in line, her curls bouncing. "Mommy mommy, can I get nuggies please please!"

"Sure baby, of course you can," Laurel said absent-mindedly. She caught sight of Kurt coming in and flashed him a smile. Her face was plain today, her hair pulled on top of her head in a messy mom-bun.

Kurt leaned down to air-kiss Laurel's cheeks. "This is fun," he drawled. "You brought my favourite baby girl."

Laurel rolled her eyes.

"Me too, me too!" Molly reached for him, and Kurt took a knee to air-kiss her chubby cheeks as well. Molly's fingers gripped his shoulders tight as she made exaggerated 'mmmwah' sounds in his ear. "I like your Twilight Sparkle hat, Auntie Kurt."

He tweaked the brim, his smile warming. "Thank you darlin'."

"Couldn't get a sitter tonight," Laurel said. "I won't make it to meeting, but a chit-chat with you is just as good. How are you?"

Kurt lifted his cap, grimacing as he shoved his hair underneath it. "It's been a day. Let's get our nuggies and I'll tell you all about it."

They sat side-by-side in the plastic swivel chairs attached to the table, refereeing Molly's chaotic toddler meal-time. The nudge of Laurel's generous arm next to his quieted Kurt's anxiety a little. They'd met at a party years ago, bonding over a tipsy conversation about hair product and the merits of mixed drinks. Laurel was the first person Kurt knew personally who'd sobered up and got her adult life back together, shortly after Molly's second birthday. Over the last couple years he'd found her friendship was weighty enough to withstand the high seas of all his drama with Nicky.

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