Title: Sing Once More
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Burt H. & Kurt H.
Spoilers: Grilled Cheesus
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Glee is the intellectual propery of Ryan Murphy and Fox. All opinions stated hereafter belong solely to this author, and in no way reflect the thoughts or opinions of Fox Network or its Affiliates. No profit is being made from this work of fiction.
Two weeks after Burt had been released from the hospital, he realized that something was going on with his son, something more than the school problems that seemed to follow Kurt around everywhere he went. This something had crept into their home life, and it was making his usually witty, sarcastic teenager obedient and quiet.
Kurt was just as much of a shark about the kinds of foods he prepared as he'd ever been, but this time he had the unvoiced "I told you so" to guilt Burt into eating the no-sodium, no-fat, no-flavor foods the doctors had recommended. Carole brought him lunches when Kurt was in school, but his son always did the cooking at night, now. To Burt, it felt like their roles had been reversed. Kurt was gone all day, came home to cook and clean up, and left before Burt was awake the next morning.
While Burt wasn't sure exactly what was going on at his kid's school, he knew that the situation at the garage wasn't helping Kurt's stress levels. With Burt having been in the hospital, the shop needed some kind of managerial guidance, and unfortunately the employee with that level of seniority also happened to be a sixteen year-old kid. With him in the hospital, Kurt had taken to driving straight home from school, donning a pair of coveralls, and either jumping into the bookkeeping, or into whichever customer's vehicle was next. Burt was damned proud that his son kept their livelihood going while he was out of commission, but it was taking a toll on his normally energetic boy. Nowadays, Kurt came home from the garage at around seven, went immediately to the kitchen to prepare their dinner, and then tried to do his own homework before crashing into bed sometime before midnight.
He could tell that Kurt was only a little bit away from a complete meltdown. His son would be appalled at the purple smudges underneath his eyes, and the fact that he had been too out of it to notice them that morning while getting ready. Kurt was pale, tired, and from what Burt could tell, just plain sad.
It was a Thursday, and the garage was closed. Dinner had been cooked and eaten, and Kurt didn't seem to have any homework he needed to get done before morning, so he'd reluctantly taken off for his bedroom, claiming that he was just going to put an old movie on and settle in for the night. The routine wasn't unusual. When Burt was at his strength, that's what Kurt would usually do if he didn't feel like joining his old dad on the couch for their car shows, so he wasn't really worried.
It was about an hour or so into whatever movie Kurt was watching that Burt started feeling like something was going to happen. For being a single dad, he was unusually in tune with his kid, and Burt had a hunch that whatever had been festering in his son's mind was about to be released, be it with anger or sarcasm or hurt. Keeping Kurt's tendency to throw things in mind, he quietly made his way down to the basement door, and tried as hard as he could to creep silently down the stairs.
Burt would recognize the movie playing on Kurt's fancy television screen anywhere. His late wife had been such a huge fan, she'd actually convinced him to name their son after one of those cute singing kids. He knew the songs almost as well as his son, as often as he'd heard them playing in their home. Burt also knew that it was one of Kurt's favorite movies to watch, and sing along with, and so he wasn't entirely surprised to see that his son had picked this particular film to watch.
He was, however, completely floored when he noticed that Kurt wasn't even watching. In fact, Kurt was lying on his stomach on his bed, face buried in a pillow, and his too-thin shoulders were shaking from the sheer force of his silent sobbing.
It wasn't the first time Burt Hummel had felt like the world's worst father, and it probably would be the last, but he did know his son quite well, and knew that Kurt had to get it out of his system before he'd be willing to talk to him at all. Fortunately for Burt, that gave him time to figure out exactly how bad he'd screwed up this time.
Old memories had a tendency to pop up on him when he heard a certain song, or smelled a certain perfume from a certain broken dresser in his bedroom. That was just the way love was, Burt figured. It changed you so completely, you couldn't expect to really ever go back to what you had before.
Kurt ran into the garage from the main door like someone was after him with a football. Even at four years old, Burt's son knew exactly what he wanted, and for the past three weeks, ever since he'd seen the poster down at the community center, Kurt Hummel had been practically begging his parents to take him to the Sound of Music Sing-Along.
Elizabeth had been all for it, of course. Her little Kurt, standing up and singing along with the adorable Kurt on screen? In his wife's eyes, it was perfect. His wife and son loved that movie far more than was probably normal, singing the songs they loved in the kitchen baking cookies, or humming prettily and waltzing whenever they passed the gazebo at the park. Burt knew it was sort of their thing, something they could love together and bond over. (Burt didn't like to admit that he was a little jealous. He still had a hard time accepting the differences between his son and other boys, though he was trying.)
"Daddy! Daddy! Guess what!"
Burt pulled his head out of the tow-truck's passenger seat, where he'd just found one of Kurt's Power Ranger action figures. For some reason, the pink one had been stuffed down between the seats.
"Slow down, Buddy. You know the rules."
It was almost comical the way the toddler screeched to a halt, shiny hot-green sneakers actually squealing on the concrete floor of the shop.
"No running. Sorry Daddy. But guess what!"
Sometimes Kurt's energy made Burt dizzy.
"What, son?"
Burt absolutely loved how Kurt's eyes gleamed in excitement, and the way he grinned with his mouth wide open, tiny baby teeth showing. His little boy was so happy he was practically bouncing in place, and in an instant he knew why the little boy was so cheerful.
"Mommy said YES!"
He had a hard time not rolling his eyes. Of course Liz had said yes. She wanted to go the Sing-Along almost as much as their boy did, which was really saying something.
"That's great, Kurt!" he enthused.
His son's normally perfectly combed hair flew around his forehead as skipped over to where his dad was.
"And guess what!"
Chuckling, Burt asked once more, "What?"
Kurt was actually jumping up and down this time, clapping his hands and beaming.
"Mommy said she'd make me an outfit just like the other Kurt's! We'll match, and then I can sing the songs, and Mommy will sing Maria's parts, and it's going to be perfect!"
He bent over and scooped his lightweight son up in his arms, walking towards the back of the shop to get the lights. Kurt's hands were busy patting down the collar of his coveralls into place.
"You and Mommy are going to have lots of fun, kid."
Burt really hated it when Kurt pulled out the pouty lips and the big, watery eyes, but he mostly hated that he was such a sucker for that face. He absolutely hated that his kid knew it, too, and used it to his advantage.
"You're not coming with us?"
As the father and son left the shop, Burt making sure the door locked behind them, he bounced Kurt up higher into his arms.
"It'll be you and Mommy's special time, kiddo! Like how we sneak away from Mommy and get all greasy at the shop? You and Mommy can have fun together, just the two of you, and then Saturday I'll let you help me tune up Mrs. Riley's van, okay?"
Kurt appeared to think about it quite seriously for all of three seconds, but then wrapped his short, chubby arms around his dad's neck and gave Burt the best toddler hug ever.
"I love you, Daddy."
He smiled.
"I love you, too, Buddy."
It was understandable that Burt hadn't really thought much of the first half of that day three weeks ago. After all, the rest had been sort of a blur, and waking up an entire week later to a relieved nursing staff and a weepy, emotional son had sort of pushed the morning from his mind.
Not now, though. Now, he'd had plenty of time to remember their argument, remember how incredibly stupid it had been, and remember that he hadn't remembered something incredibly important that day before he'd ripped into his only kid.
After Liz had died, he and Kurt had a hard time talking. Burt was grieving, but trying to stay strong for his son, who had, after all, just lost his mother and best friend. It wasn't until Kurt's teenage years that he realized his nine year-old son had been doing the same for him. It was because of their mutual decisions that they didn't really talk about Elizabeth Hummel until the week of the annual Sound of Music Sing-Along.
Kurt hadn't brought it up, and Burt had been starting to wonder if they were going to ignore the tradition in the Hummel household, letting it pass without due fanfare. He'd felt so guilty that he'd been leaving Kurt to deal with Liz's death on his own, that he'd surprised his son early that Friday, taking him out for ice-cream, and then driving them both over to the community theatre. About half-way there, Kurt had stopped pretending he didn't know where they were going, and just sat back, watching his father drive steadily onwards.
It was the first time Burt had been to the Sing-Along because they'd all agreed that it was something just for Liz and Kurt, something they could share and whisper about and bond over. It had been good for Kurt, that someone loved getting dressed up, and loved singing along with his favorite songs at the theatre, and Burt had been glad they had those nights once every year.
When Kurt turned ten, he met a girl named Rachel, who apparently was an avid musical lover, and volunteered her father's chaperone services for the night. Burt wasn't sure Kurt really wanted to go with this new person, but after silently not-talking about it for a brief moment, knew that it was something Kurt wanted to keep close to his heart, for just him and his mom. His son had enthusiastically accepted the Berry girl's offer, and the two of them had started their own musical traditions.
Standing there, listening to his son cry quietly, Burt knew why he'd forgotten how important that one event was to Kurt, and figured that Kurt had probably put two and two together as well.
It had been incredibly insensitive for Burt to bring up Carole and Finn while discussing their plans for that night, even though he hadn't understood why at the time. He'd just wanted them to start mending the rift that had opened between them. He knew that Kurt and Finn were having some troubles, no matter how much or often Kurt assured him there were no hard feelings. Burt could see the lingering hurt there.
He could hear it now, too.
Burt had been so focused in fixing whatever was driving them further apart that he had taken something important to Kurt and spit on it.
Something that had been sacred to his son, the way Friday dinners were to Burt.
Looking back on it all, he couldn't believe that he'd been so callous, so harsh without even talking to his own child about why he was so set on going to the show. If he'd thought about it for even a moment, he would have had the answer, and would have backed off immediately. He would have told Kurt that, of course, he was allowed to go, and that he was proud that Mercedes had joined Rachel and Kurt's tradition, that he was proud of his son for sharing something so personal with his two friends.
Instead, he'd told his little boy that he'd never been so disappointed in him.
He could understand the hurt Kurt was currently trying to vent, could feel it with every watery gasp that made its way to his ears. There was something desperate in his son's tears, something that practically begged to be fixed.
Something that begged for his Daddy to fix it.
Burt Hummel decided that it was time to stop standing in the shadows listening, and walked the rest of the way into the room. Kurt didn't notice that he had company until Burt actually sat down on the bed, but he stiffened almost immediately when the mattress shifted. Kurt didn't, however, shy away, or attempt to sit up. He just stayed there, letting Burt make the first move, which he thought he probably didn't really deserve.
Burt was dismayed to feel his son's vertebrae under the hand he'd splayed across Kurt's back. The past month had really taken their toll, and Burt's guilt increased ten-fold. He'd stopped noticing, stopped really listening a while ago, and now Kurt was paying the price.
Burt reached his other hand to card through his son's soft hair, just like he'd done to that toddler so many years ago, and felt Kurt release the breath he'd been holding on to so tensely. One breath turned into two, and when Kurt started shaking again, Burt leaned back against the headboard and let his not-so-little boy curl into his side, face still hidden, and let him stop being the parent for a while. It was the least Burt could do.
Later that night, Carole called to ask about their dinner plans for Friday. Burt didn't feel quite as bad telling her that he and Kurt needed some time for the two of them, because Kurt was taking a shower, and even with the soundproofed walls, Burt could hear the joyful song Kurt was singing to the audience in his mind.
"I go to the hills
When my heart is lonely.
I know I will hear
What I've heard before.
My heart will be blessed
with the sound of music,
And I'll sing once more."