Title: Second Count
Author: Spider
Pairing, Character(s): Kurt and Burt
Rating: PG
Warnings: Hummel Angst
Spoilers: About Kurt's mom
Disclaimer: DEFINITELY not mine.
Summary: Kurt has always counted the days since his mother's death, unconsciously now.
Word Count: 443
Notes: Companion piece to When You Start Counting
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SECOND COUNT
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It had been ten years, three months, and five days since Kurt's mother died. Since he started counting. Burt had only been counting for eight years, two months, and twenty-nine days. They both agreed that she had died, but Kurt called her death when she could no longer say she loved him. Burt called her death when her heart ceased its rhythm. Her time of death was a difference they had, but it was not an argument they bothered with.
Kurt knew it had been ten years, three months, and five days like he knew he was breathing when he woke up. He knew it, but he didn't dwell on it. It had been, after all, ten years, three months, and five days. He went about his morning routine as usual. Burt wasn't around when Kurt stepped into the kitchen to make his usual morning breakfast smoothie, but that wasn't entirely unusual. Sometimes Burt went out to the shop early, and Kurt didn't see him until dinner.
Except, when Kurt went out to his car, he saw his dad's sitting in the garage beside his. Burt wasn't at the garage. Kurt hesitated. If he didn't leave now, he risked being late for school... but if Burt wasn't at the garage, and he wasn't up... Kurt turned and walked right back into the house, up the stairs, and knocked on his father's door.
Burt didn't answer.
Kurt hesitated again, then turned the handle and pushed the door open a crack. "Dad?" He could see the lump in his father's bed, so he had at least found the man. "You okay?" Quietly, he stepped into the room and crept over to his father's side.
Burt didn't stir.
Kurt reached out, setting his hand on his father's shoulder, then giving him a shake. "Dad? Dad!" Burt's head lolled on the pillow, but he didn't open his eyes. "Dad!"
He was still breathing, Kurt could tell, still had a pulse. He fumbled for his phone, dialing 911. "It's my dad, he won't wake up..."
Hours later, Kurt sat beside his father's bed at the hospital, staring at the monitors that confirmed his dad was still alive, his school bag resting on his knees. A stroke, they had told him. While he slept. He was lucky to be alive.
Kurt didn't respond to any of them. He just stared at the monitors. It had been ten years, three months, and five days since his mother last told him she loved him. It had been one day since his father last did.
Ten years.
One day.
Ten years.
One day.
One day.
One day...
