Ending It All: Pros and Cons
TRIGGER WARNING: talk about suicide
SPOILER ALERT: Reaction one-shot to spoilers for the episode '2009', 6x12.
In the spoiler for the episode Kurt picked up a pamphlet with the headline 'Ending It All: Pros and Cons'.
Burt's POV
Burt sat in his little cluttered office, doing paper work. He hated doing it, because everytime he sat down to do it he felt like everything was a mess and he failed at keeping it in order.
He heard the distinctive sound of his son's steps approaching.
"Hey Dad," Kurt said in his soft subdued voice, putting his school satchel on the chair in front of Burt's desk.
"How was school?" It was a routine question. Burt didn't even look up, too busy punching numbers into his calculator.
"It was okay," Kurt replied and went over to the locker to change into his workshop onesie. Lately the boy was eager on helping out and earning money to be able to buy clothes.
Burt caught a glimpse of red from the corner of his eye and turned to look at his son sharply. "Red pants? What are you? A clown?" Burt grumbled, not liking Kurt's current outfit choices. "Is that what you spend your allowance on? And what's with the scarf? It's not winter."
Kurt chose to ignore his old man's grumblings and hung his big white scarf with the black dots on a hanger in the locker. "I'll do the oil change on the Nissan," he said and picked up the clipboard.
The phone rang and Burt answered it. Needing to write the caller's information down, he looked around and noticed he was out of paper. He quickly searched Kurt's satchel and found a college block, opened it to a blank page and penned down some notes. He ended the call and was about to put Kurt's college block back into the bag when a pamphlet stuck out and caught his eye.
The top of the pamphlet read: Ending it all: Pros and cons.
"What the-?" Burt opened the block to the page the pamphlet marked and found a list of pros and cons in Kurt's handwriting. All of a sudden Burt broke into a sweat and his heart stopped beating altogether.
On the left were about ten points of pros, on the right side was only one point of contra: Dad!
- no more slushies in the face
- no more dumpster tosses and ruining my clothes
- no one will be able to make fun of my voice anymore
- no more snide remarks about my wardrobe
- not having to worry about how to get out of this cow town
- I won't have to miss Mom every day
- I won't have to be alone anymore
- no one will ever find out about me being...
Burt couldn't grasp what he was reading, at the same time he couldn't keep his eyes off the page. He re-read the list over and over again. According to this list the only reason not to end it all for Kurt was his father. It gave Burt the power to change things. But he didn't know what to do. Hell, all of this felt surreal. How did they get here? It seemed as if only yesterday Kurt had been the eight year old boy mourning the loss of his mother. He was almost sixteen now. When had Kurt grown up and how had Burt missed it? And how had his son become miserable without him noticing? Burt became aware that he had done a lousy job at being a father and yet he was the only reason for Kurt to go on.
He studied the list again and got stuck on the last point. What was Kurt worried about people finding out? Burt had an idea what Kurt might be referring to. He had known all along, well, not known exactly, but assumed and already accepted. But Kurt didn't know that Burt had come to terms with the possibility of having a gay son a long time ago. However, it seemed like Kurt hadn't accepted his own sexuality yet, if he wasn't even able to write it down.
Burt looked at the pamphlet again. On the back it said that it was made by Emma Pillsbury, guidance counselor at McKinley High. Had Kurt talked to her about his problems? Did she know what was going on?
Should he tell Kurt that he saw the pamphlet and the list?
He put everything back in Kurt's bag and stood, walking over to where Kurt was working.
Burt regretted the way he had spoken about Kurt's red pants. He probably got that enough at school. He didn't need his father to diss his clothes, too. Burt started thinking about moments when he had reprimanded and bad mouthed his son rather than encouraged and complimented him. He tried to remember the last time he had told Kurt that he loved him. The last time he had given him a hug. He couldn't even remember.
Kurt looked up and found his father staring at him. "What is it?" Kurt asked and sounded so self-conscious all of a sudden it broke Burt's heart.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "I just- I wanted to say you're doing a great job here."
Kurt's eyebrows arched, confused. "This is just an oil change. Nothing spectacular."
"Still, you're doing great." Burt thought about giving Kurt a hug right here and now, but he felt embarrassed in front of his assistant and customers. He was really bad at giving hugs. It made him wish his wife was still with them.
Instead, Burt reached out and gave Kurt's shoulder a squeeze. Kurt squinted his eyes skeptically. It was all Burt could come up with and he felt inadequate.
Kurt left the shop after two hours to go home and prepare dinner. Burt closed the shop shortly after, way earlier than usual, because he couldn't stop thinking about Kurt.
At home he was met by the delicious smell of cooking. Kurt would cook dinner every night and Burt would always just sit down, turn on the TV while eating until Kurt announced he would go downstairs to do his homework.
"Smells great."
Kurt looked startled when Burt went into the kitchen. "You're early."
"Yeah, there were no more customers."
Kurt made spaghetti bolognese, one of Burt's favorites.
"Here, try," Kurt spooned up some of the sauce, blew on it lightly and offered the spoon to Burt. Burt couldn't help but notice how much Kurt looked like his mother in this moment. He realized that maybe this was the reason why he avoided meeting Kurt's eye so much. It had become a habit. Did he unconsciously punish Kurt for looking like his mother? But Burt wasn't the only one missing someone. It had been one point on Kurt's list, too.
"Tastes just like your Mom used to make it," Burt complimented.
Kurt frowned. "It will never taste the way Mom made it," he disagreed. "But I try my best."
Burt chuckled. "Do you remember the time when she made casserole and the whole thing dropped on the floor and we-"
"I don't want to talk about Mom," Kurt cut in sharply.
"Sorry," Burt said, confused. "I figured it would be nice to trade stories, you know, just so we won't forget her."
"I won't forget her," Kurt replied abrasively.
"Me, neither, but-"
Kurt put the bowl of spaghetti on the table. "Dinner is served. Help yourself. I'll be in my room. I'm not hungry."
Burt watched as Kurt left the room. He sat down, but he couldn't eat anything. He felt sick to the stomach, wringing his hands as he waited. He figured he should give Kurt a few minutes to steam off before he went after him.
Burt knocked at his son's door before he went in and slowly descended the stairs.
"Kurt? Can I come down?"
Kurt didn't reply. He sat at his desk with his college block open. Burt couldn't help but wonder if he was completing his list.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to I upset you," he said approaching his son. Kurt had his back turned to him and covered his papers with his hands.
"I'm not upset," Kurt said in a clipped voice.
Burt let out a sigh. "Will you please look at me?" Burt asked softly.
They hardly ever did this. Talking. Looking at one another. It had become a habit to just pass by each other. Even when they were talking it was mostly just Burt ranting over dinner about some idiot customer at the shop or Kurt asking him to sign some school papers. It had been a while since they had really talked one on one. He didn't remember it being so hard.
When Kurt turned around he had tears in his eyes, but he fought to stay composed. Burt had to look away. You didn't look at another guy who was crying. Burt wasn't used to tears. He didn't know what to do. But this was his son. What was he supposed to do?
"We should talk," he offered, dragging a hand over his head.
"About what?" Kurt asked, hugging himself and completely shutting down now.
"Anything," Burt said with a shrug. "Tell me about your friends. You never talk about them."
"That's because I don't have any," Kurt replied emotionlessly.
This took Burt by surprise. "Why not?" Back in high school Burt had had a bunch of friends to hang out with. He couldn't imagine going through high school alone.
"Because I'm Mr. Cellophane," Kurt explained calmly and rather snobbishly. "And I prefer it that way."
Burt blinked. "You're Mr. what?"
"Mr. Cellophane, Chicago?" Kurt prompted, but it didn't ring a bell to Burt. "Basically, it means being an invisible man," Kurt explained further. "That way people leave you alone."
Burt shook his head, confused. "Maybe you should join some clubs."
"There aren't any clubs I'm interested in."
"Well, there has to be something you'd like to do."
"If there was a choir-" Kurt started, shrugging, "but there isn't, so it's no point."
"You mean, singing?" Burt asked. He knew that Kurt liked to sing. He had often heard him through the door, but every time he entered Kurt's room, the boy would immediately stop. Sometimes he would hum a tune in the tire shop, but no melodies that were familiar to Burt.
"Yes," Kurt replied, sounding insecure again. "But like I said, there's no glee club."
For a moment neither of them spoke. Burt didn't know how to proceed from here and he was out of things to talk about, so he just scratched his balding head and looked around the room.
"Can you go now?" Kurt asked dismissively. "I have homework to do."
"All right." Burt retreated reluctantly. "Good night, kid."
The next day Burt told his assistant that he'd be away for an hour and he drove to McKinley High. He hadn't slept all night long. He had kept turning and twisting with the list of pros and cons repeating in his head over and over again.
Now he wandered around the halls of the school until he found the office of Ms. Pillsbury. In front of the office was a cardboard stand with pamphlets and Burt saw the one about suicide which he had found in Kurt's college block.
Ending it all: Pros and cons.
He took a copy and all of a sudden all of it became scaringly real. He could see his boy standing right here and feeling the need to take one of these and then sit down on his desk at school and make a list of pros and cons. And before he knew what overcame him, Burt was incredibly angry. What kind of a pamphlet was this anyway? There were no pros in a suicide case.
He opened the glass door and stormed into the office, startling the tiny red head with the big brown eyes.
"Did you write these friggin' pamphlets?" he barked at her without a greeting. "Because I don't think it's funny to put the idea into kids heads that there is a good side to committing suicide. There is no pro, not even if the pro side of your list outweighs the cons! None of these pros justify killing yourself."
He had to stop talking, because his throat tightened and he stared at her, but her face was a blur and he realized he was crying.
The expression of the red head mellowed from shocked to concerned. She stood and motioned for him to sit down, before she went and closed the door.
Burt slumped into the chair in front of her desk and hid his face in his hand, trying to calm down. He felt all the guilt weighing down on his shoulders. He had lost track of his own son. He didn't know who Kurt was anymore. They were living in the same house, but every day they were just passing by each other. Now he was faced with an ugly reality and it was unbearable for Burt to think that his son was miserable and unhappy and that he was thinking about ending his life. What would he do if Kurt wasn't around anymore? His life would be so meaningless and empty. Was this how Kurt felt now?
The red head gently pushed a box of tissues over the desk towards him. "I'm Ms. Pillsbury and yes, I wrote these pamphlets."
"Did you talk to my son?" Burt looked up at her. "Did he tell you something about- about how he feels?"
"I'm sorry, but who is your son?" she asked gently.
Burt realized that he didn't introduce himself. He dragged his hand down his face and took off his cap. "So sorry for barging in like this. I'm Burt Hummel. I'm the owner of the tire store in town. My son is-"
"Kurt," she finished for him with a graceful smile.
"So he came to talk to you?" The very thought was relieving. If Kurt had reached out for help, it couldn't be that serious, could it?
But Ms. Pillsbury shook her head no. "I met him earlier this week when he was looking at the pamphlets. We spoke briefly, but he didn't come to talk to me."
"I found this," Burt held the pamphlet up and choked, his voice failing him again. "I found it in his bag and he made a friggin' list. Pros and cons. And I don't know what to do."
"Have you talked to him about it?"
"No, I don't know how," he shrugged helplessly and took one of the tissues. He hated falling apart like this, especially in front of strangers. In fact he hadn't cried since Elizabeth had died. He had stopped feeling anything. It had been easier that way. But the prospect of his boy in pain made him feel again. He realized that he had neglected Kurt in so many ways.
"We hardly talk at all. I don't know what's going on in his life. Since my wife died it's been pretty much just him and me, but somehow we lost each other. I tried to talk to him last night, but he blocked me out. He said he liked being Mr. Invisible."
"Try again. Reach out to him. Maybe all he needs is to see that you're still here for him."
They talked for a while longer, until Burt felt better and more prepared. When he was about to leave, she assured him he didn't look like he'd been crying, but he pulled the front of his cap down to hide his face anyway.
"One more thing," on his way out Burt turned back to her. "Why doesn't this school have a glee club? You know, where kids can get together to sing? Because that's what my kid would be interested in. Maybe you could suggest such a thing to the principal or whoever."
A warm smile spread on her face. "I will do that."
In the hallway Burt passed a group of jocks who high-fived one another and laughed.
A few steps further he almost slipped in a pool of blue sticky stuff on the floor. "What the-?" He looked down at his shoes before he looked around and saw Kurt slowly making his way along the wall like a blind man, pushing open the door to the boys' restroom. Burt caught a glimpse of Kurt's face and front covered in blue slushy.
Just last week he had barked at Kurt for letting the washing machine run nonstop. "How can you have so much laundry? This is ridiculous! You don't even do sports!"
His first instinct was to follow Kurt into the restrooms, but he stopped himself. Kurt would probably be rather embarrassed to face his father like this than be glad to see him.
Burt went to see the principal instead. He made sure he wasn't riding on rage like he had when he had entered Ms. Pillsbury's office. He was granted an appointment instantly, and he started by discussing the slushy machine. Principal Figgins seemed to be a reasonable man and Burt spoke about his concerns regarding bullying at the school. Before he knew it an hour had passed and the school day was over. He wasn't sure if his visit would have an impact on how the school would handle bullying in the future, but he made a mental note to check in on it again.
On his way to the parking lot, he looked at his watch and found that Kurt didn't have any classes left for today since he didn't attend any clubs. So Burt stayed, leaning against his car and watching kids leaving school. It took a while until Kurt came out, wearing different clothes now. A knee-long blue sweater with grey sleeves and a grey hat to hide his ruined hair. Burt was surprised. Did Kurt bring extra clothes to school in case something like this happened? Burt had figured he could use Kurt's ruined clothes to start a conversation, but this option fell flat now.
Kurt walked fast with his head down towards the bus stop. It was time to get him a car, Burt decided. There were only a few weeks left until his sixteenth birthday anyway.
"Hey, Kurt!" Burt called out and waved at him. Kurt stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his father as if he was seeing a ghost. He approached Burt slowly, warily. "Dad, what are you doing here?"
"I was around," Burt shrugged, thinking quickly off the top of his head. "There was a tire emergency down the street, uhm, I had to help change a flat, and I thought I could pick you up from school while I was around."
Kurt seemed content with this explanation. He got in the car, buckled his seatbelt and kept his satchel on his lap and a plastic bag to his feet. Containing the slushied clothes, Burt figured.
They drove silently for a while with just good ol' Mellencamp singing on CD.
Burt cleared his throat. "So, how was school?"
"It was okay." Kurt's standard reply. He was staring out of the window, but he wasn't looking at anything.
Not knowing what topic he could approach safely, Burt settled on something familiar.
"So I was wondering what kind of car you'd like to get for your sweet sixteen."
Kurt whipped around, wide eyed and holding his breath. "Really?" he asked as if he couldn't believe it.
"Sure," Burt said, smiling. "It's about time you get a car."
"Oh, my God, thank you!" Kurt squealed and from one moment to the next he was this happy squirming kid and wouldn't stop fast-talking all the way to the shop, telling Burt exactly what kind of car he would love and how he was willing to do extra work in the shop if he also got some cool spoilers.
This reaction was more than Burt could have hoped for. It was the first time in forever that he saw Kurt genuinely excited about something. Despite all their differences, Kurt had always been fond of cars. It was the foundation they could build on. It was better than nothing.
The following weeks Burt made sure to talk to Kurt every day. It didn't matter what they talked about, he just wanted to get used to the sound of Kurt's voice again. He made a point to really listen to what his son was saying or not saying, to pat him on the shoulder more often and to look him straight in the eye. It took some effort to fight the awkwardness at first, but sooner than he had expected it became natural.
The more gratifying was Kurt's response. Once the boy realized he was being heard, he began talking more. Mostly it was complaining about school stuff or gushing about his passions which Burt soon found out consisted of a great deal of Broadway shows.
Burt was happy to learn that a glee club was being established at McKinley High. He heard it first from Ms. Pillsbury who called him in the shop to tell the happy news. He heard the news the same day at dinner from Kurt. From that day on Kurt spoke about nothing else. He talked about his fellow glee clubbers, how annoying they were, how some of them actually had great voices, but a horrible taste in fashion nonetheless. Kurt told him how he sang Mr. Cellophane for his audition, but Burt had a feeling that soon his son wouldn't be invisible anymore.
On Kurt's sixteenth birthday, Burt embraced his son. It was a little awkward for both of them at first, but Burt made sure the hug lasted longer than a regular hug should last.
"I love you, kiddo," he murmured into Kurt's hair. "You know that, right?"
The way Kurt hugged him back meant everything to him.
Thank you for reading.
SonofLuffy, I'm sorry for keeping you up at night to help me with this one-shot. Big Burt Hummel bear hugs for you!