Please please please keep in mind that this is my very first fanfic- let alone my very first Glee fic. I really hope you enjoy this. If not, I'm sorry. I will try to update quickly and not have you wait days on end, but I'm very busy so please be patient. Enjoy! :D

As I sat in French class I couldn't help but think about Friday night. It was going to be amazing! The Sound of Music sing- along only came once a year, and every year I eagerly awaited. Every Christmas since I was five, the three of us- my father, mother and I- watched the movie. My mother and I singing along at an obnoxiously loud, and horrible sound that wasn't even close to what you would call singing, and my father just watching us, smiling the biggest I've ever seen him.

The tradition carried on even after my mother died. That first Christmas after we had buried her, I couldn't bring myself to watch it. All I wanted to do was stay in my room, and just cry the tears I didn't think I had. It was then that my father pulled me close, me relaxing in his strong arms enveloping me. He stood up and held out his hand. I took it slowly, as he led me up the stairs and on the couch. It was then that I could see on the T.V. screen the opening scenes of the movie that brought me to love music. The scenes that made me think of mom.

The moment when Julie Andrews broke the instrumental with the lyrics "The hills are alive" I heard a lower voice join in. I snapped my head to my right to see my dad smiling and singing through tears. I couldn't help but smile and I tried my best to hold back a giggle. I climbed over and curled up into his side as we watched the rest of the movie singing every lyric.

I came back to reality, pushing the memory aside. How could he not want me to go? He knows how important the musical was to me. What memories it brought back. This was once a year, Friday night dinners were a weekly thing. I would make up for it of course. I had even offered to move it a night ahead. The words replayed in my head. "I gotta tell ya Kurt, I'm really disappointed in you." That was the first time I had heard those words spoken by my own father. They stung the deepest part of me as I hit replay in my mind over and over.

"Je vais chanter-a-long "Sound of Music" et en deux heures je vais expérience de plusde la culture et l'art vous dans votre vie entire", I said to the jock sitting next to me. He obviously didn't have any taste in clothing, and most likely non in music. As I finished the sentence I heard my name in a soft, low voice.

"Kurt", I turned to see Mr. Shue, with Ms. Pillsbury right behind him. My smile slowly faded at their sad and almost concerned expressions. "Can we talk to you outside?"

I gathered my things and made my way out the door without looking back. I felt a sense of fear wash over me. A million thoughts gathered into my head. "What if this" and "what if that". But nothing could prepare me to what was said to me.

"Kurt, we just got a call from the hospital. It seems that your father has had a heart attack", Mr. Shue had said.

As the words were spoken, they blurred together. All at once I didn't know what was happening. My whole body went numb. I felt my knees give out and I fell to the ground. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. I wanted to scream but no sound came out. I buried my face in my hands trying to breathe. I felt hands go over my shoulders, rubbing my arms softly. Another hand reached my back rubbing small circles between the shoulder blades. I looked up to see Mr. Shue squatting beside me, staring at me. I didn't know what to do. I ran my hand through the roots of my hair and sighed. "How do I get there?" Was all I could bring myself to say. Mr. Shue stood up and offered his hand to help me up. I took it and carefully walked out of the school with both of the teachers at my side.

The car ride felt like the longest twenty minutes in my life. The words spoken earlier this morning all ran into one. You disappoint me. What about Friday night dinner. Your father, heart attack.

As everything played back I felt something cool and wet slide down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. I couldn't stand tears. What good were they? I needed to be strong, for the strongest thing I had in my life. For my father.