Work Text:
Karen.
Oh God, he missed Karen. That short time he'd had with her again had been wonderful; and horrible. Having her in his life again, no matter how short it was, had just peeled the scabs off and let the old wounds bleed like they were fresh again.
It wasn't till months later, after the whole Apocalypse-End-Of-The-World thing was over and he knew that both Sam and Dean were alive and safe (as they could ever be), that he allowed himself to really think about Karen again. Losing her – killing her – the first time had broken him for a while and having her back only to have her death play out in a horrifying parody of those events had damn near shattered him. But he hadn't had time to mourn, he had to help save the world and, if possible, save the two boys who had become like sons to him.
Though he didn't want to admit it, it had taken all those things to really drive home one of his own lessons. As he'd told the boys: "Family don't end with blood."
Karen had had a sister who she'd been very close to despite Bobby and Karen living in Sioux Falls and Elizabeth and Burt living in Lima. Karen and Lizzy had kept in touch with phone calls, visited each other whenever they could, often dragging their husbands along with them. He'd considered them family. All of that stopped when Karen was… when Karen passed. He hadn't seen or spoken to Lizzy, Burt or their son in twelve years now, not since the funeral.
Time for that to change. Family was family, and you don't lose sight of that.
He'd buried the contact information so deep in his files, probably in subconscious avoidance, that it took him half a day of looking to find it again. Took him another two days to work up the gumption to actually call. He repressed the slight tremor in his hands as he dialed the number and held the phone to his ear.
One ring.
Two.
"Hummel residence."
Hearing the voice and the surge of familiarity that came with it, he felt his worries ease a little. "Elizabeth?"
William Schuester wrote the word on the board along with a stick figure as he said, "Hello." At the silence, he turned around to face his students and repeated, "Hello?"
There were scattered 'Hello's around the room and Mr. Schuester started this week's lesson with enthusiasm. "What do you guys say when you answer the phone?"
"What up?" Mercedes said with a happy sass.
"Who dis be?" Artie chimed in. And Kurt, not really paying attention and without conscious filter said the same thing he'd said yesterday afternoon, the last time he'd picked up a phone.
"No, she's dead; this is her son."
END