Kurt coughed, waving a cloud of dust out of his face as he shifted some of the boxes stacked in the attic. He had gone up there to look for the Lady Gaga costume he had made for Glee last year. He and Quinn had had the idea to switch costumes for Halloween, so they wouldn't wear the same outfit twice. However, his search had been in vain, and he was wondering if it was buried somewhere in his closet.
Kurt straightened up, dusting his hands off on his jeans. He winced immediately afterward, glancing down at the dust now imbedded in the fabric. He headed back to the stairs, his foot catching on the corner of a box. He fell to the ground ungracefully, scowling. He turned his head to one side to glare at the box. His heart caught in his throat when he saw the name on the box, "Elizabeth".
…
Burt got home late from the garage that. Carole was visiting her sister in Upstate New York, and Finn was at Puck's house for the night, so he and Kurt had the house to themselves. He shut the front door behind him with a bang, sliding the lock in place as an afterthought. Raising Kurt in this small town had taught him that you can never be too safe. He kicked off his boots and hung his jacket on one of the hooks by the door.
"Kurt?" He called out.
There was no response, but up in Kurt's room, Burt heard a faint voice singing. He stood there, frozen for a moment. "Elizabeth," he said softly. He moved up the stairs in a trance, pushing Kurt's bedroom door open.
Kurt was huddled on his bed. He was hugging the blanket his mother made for him to his chest. His hair was out of place, falling over his forehead, and his face was streaked with tears. He looked up at his father, his cheeks flushed with emotion. He gestured to the TV screen, "It's her."
Burt moved into his son's room, sitting on the edge of the bed.
The woman on the screen of the TV was clutching a microphone, her hips swaying slightly as she sang, the joy in her face brightening the space around her.
As Burt watched, the old feelings came rushing back at him, hitting him like a tidal wave. He felt the familiar swell of his heart in his throat. He could almost smell her on his clothing, feel her hair between his fingertips. For a moment, it was like she was right there in the room with them, nothing had changed.
Burt turned to look at his son, crying on his bed. He moved closer to Kurt, slipping one arm around the kid's shoulders. Kurt leaned his head against his father's shoulder, his tears sinking into the rough fabric of his shirt. Burt tightened his arm around Kurt's shoulders, giving him a one armed hug.
The tape ran out, static blurring the screen of the TV.
Burt stood awkwardly, the bed creaking as his weight lifted.
"Dad, wait," Kurt said, his voice breaking.
Burt turned back to his son.
Kurt was holding out one hand, the same way Burt had held out his hand at Elizabeth's funeral.
Burt grabbed his son's hand, squeezing tightly. He took a deep, shaky breath, "I love you, Kurt."
"I love you too, Dad."