Disclaimer: I don't own 50 First Dates or Glee.
Chapter One: Prologue-
"Good morning, Kurt. Don't worry. Everything's going to be okay..."
Clark woke up early for school to find one of his fathers, Blaine, up and about, making breakfast for the rest of the family.
"Hey, Dad," Clark said, grabbing a plate off the counter and spooning scrambled eggs straight out of the pan. "Aunt Theresa not up yet?"
Blaine gave him a fond look and slapped his hand away. "She stayed the night at a friend's. Kurt should be up soon. Have a seat."
Clark glanced nervously at the darkened hallway where his parents bedroom was located. "It's kind of late, isn't it?"
"Hmm. He'll be fine. Probably just tired from the trip back."
Clark sighed. This trip had been hell, even with Theresa's help. His other father had...special needs...that made travelling rather difficult. It's why Blaine had hired his 'Aunt' Theresa when he was a baby.
The doorbell suddenly rang, causing them both to jump.
"Sorry," Clark said. "Ean said he'd stop by before school. He had a date with Sheree last night."
He gave his father a quick grin and hurried from the table. He and Ean had been friends since second grade, ever since the Hummel-Andersons had moved to New York to get Blaine's fledgling music career off the ground. The two boys had been near inseperatable over the years, barring a few spats.
Ean gave him a quick once over at the door. "How're you doing?" he asked as he stepped through the door.
Clark shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Funerals suck, though." Especially when it was for someone as awesome as his Grandpa Burt had been.
"How's your Dad doing?"
He didn't even have to ask which man Ean was wondering about.
"Same as always." Clark rounded on his friend. "Look, you can't tell him about Grandpa, okay? Not a word."
Ean threw up his hands. "No, man, of course not."
Blaine greeted Ean cheerfully when they came back into the kitchen. The table was already set for four and food set in the middle of the table.
"Have a seat, Ean." Blaine gestured at one of the chairs.
The food was almost gone, a full plate left covered to keep it warm, when a door nearby creeked open. They all froze and turned towards it, waiting for the slim figure to slowly inch its way out into the hallway.
They could see him coming, his head perched curiously to one side as he walked. Blaine stood when Kurt stopped at the kitchen entranceway to stare at them.
"Good morning, Kurt," he said.
Clark waved. "Hi, Dad."
He couldn't help but grin at the way Kurt's eyes widened, even though it happened every morning without fail. He smothered a laugh when his father eyed Ean speculatively.
"Mr. H," Ean said. He waved a fork in hello.
Kurt's shoulders relaxed a bit. He even let Blaine kiss him on the cheek and sit him at the table. Aunt Therese would have scoffed at how careful he was being, but Kurt's actions weren't always predictable.
What a lot of people didn't realize was that while the days might never change for him, his emotions did, sometimes sharply diving in one direction or the other. It was his memories that were stagnant, not Kurt himself.
Yesterday, he'd been curious about the world he'd missed. There were some things they had all glossed over, of course: Grandpa Burt's death (except the day of the funeral, which, yeah, the reaction to that had been horrible), Aunt Rachel's miscarriage, Uncle David's car accident, among them.
Today, he was timid and darting. He sat at the table, impeccably dressed as always, and took a deep, steadying breath. Clark shifted uncomfortably at the look. He hated when his dad cried and those were definite tears at the corners of his eyes, though he blushed red at every concerned look Blaine threw his way.
"We should probably get going," Ean said, looking around at the others.
Clark nodded. "Yeah. Big day today."
He gave both fathers pecks on the cheek before heading for the door. A quick look back showed Kurt staring down at his aging hands, sniffing miserably, while Blaine whispered in his ear.
"C'mon, man."
Ean tugged on his arm and pulled him out the door.
x
The keyboard was set up where they'd left it before leaving for Lima, sheet music sitting on top of it and waiting. He and Kurt had been working on a song when they'd gotten the call about Burt. Any progress they'd made on it had been lost since then, of course, but they could start again today, so long as they finished it before bedtime.
Kurt had woken up in a funk. He didn't remember his dad dying. That wasn't why he was so down. It was his body, no doubt still tired from the trip and helping to throw him further off balance. In a few days, he'd be better able to cope.
Now, though, he followed after Blaine shyly, a blush coloring his cheeks red. It reminded Blaine of when they'd first met. Kurt hadn't changed since then, couldn't change, so every day it was like he was still a teenager, frozen in time while everyone else moved on around him.
"Are you sure I can't call home?" Kurt asked nervously, hands twitching at his sides.
"Well," Blaine said. "Carole's probably still asleep. You don't want to wake her up, do you?"
Kurt hesitated, his eyes searching Blaine's face. Finally, he nodded, then glanced at the camera Blaine fiddled with.
Blaine smiled at him apologetically. "We try to record everything. For your videos." And for Blaine's sake, as well.
Kurt nodded and slowly approached the keyboard, sitting down on the bench and fingering the music in front of him. "What's this?"
"We were working on it whe-I thought you'd like to do some singing today."
Kurt frowned. "But I don't know the song."
Blaine sat down beside him and set the music up. It was a song from one of his more recent musicals.
"We can work on it together."
Kurt bit his lip but nodded, blushing again, when Blaine reached over to squeeze his hand.
He put his hands on the keyboards to play the first notes. After a moment's listening, Kurt opened his mouth and began to sing along.