Author's note: This story diverges from canon after "Grilled Cheesus." The title comes from my favorite Guster album. Each chapter will be named after a song from that CD - some fit better than others, whether it relates to the lyrics or just the overall tone, but I would suggest listening to them, particularly for chapters 1, 6, and 9. A link can be found in my profile or on my tumblr.
This story is dedicated to Bennett, who encouraged me to write it in the first place, and helped me outline and edit.
Also, a huge thanks to kivrinengle for being an awesome beta, and answering my excessive questions and emails. If you haven't read her stories, go do that now! They are amazing.
Anyways, here it is. Thank you and enjoy!
"You've wasted every moment of your Saturdays and your Sundays
You're wasted from the boredom, was never supposed to be like this"
Kurt groaned and rolled over as his iPod alarm clock continued to play. He glanced at the calendar, trying to remember which pills his dad needed on Wednesdays. Keeping track of his medicines and getting up to make him breakfast was the least he could do for his dad, who had been there for him through the tea parties and musicals, to the "Single Ladies" dance and the hateful phone calls. Even so, it wasn't exactly how he had pictured his life after graduation. Kurt Hummel was meant to be a star, and that plan did not include Lima, Ohio. He should be living the dream in New York City with Rachel, his one true competition from his high school glee club; however that was no longer an option after his dad suffered from another heart attack at the end of Kurt's senior year. Between the hospital visits and late night phone updates from Carole between her overtime shifts, it was a miracle he even passed his finals. His dad had gotten out of the hospital just in time to see Kurt walk across the stage and receive his diploma, but he hadn't had the strength to leave the house since that day, a few weeks earlier.
"Cause it's time, lose your friends, make them go, was never supposed to be like this."
The song started again, reminding Kurt that he really needed to get out of bed this time. As he started his morning moisturizing routine, he thought about his friends from New Directions. Most of them were either busy with summer jobs, or, like Rachel, already left for college or their next adventure. When his dad had ended up in the ER again, Kurt didn't want any more religious meddling like the previous year, so he refused his friends' offers to visit or call. And with his dad needing help to even get down from his bedroom to the couch, Kurt couldn't exactly be out all night at graduation parties, or join everyone for a day at the beach. New Directions had been like a family to him, but even before university classes started, he could count on one hand the number of times he had communicated with any of them, excluding a random Facebook wall post here or there. As Kurt headed upstairs to start his dad's breakfast, he grabbed his phone and saw it flashing one new message. Finn, the one exception to that statement, often checked in with Kurt to see how he and Burt were doing. Although Carole and Burt never took their relationship to the next level (Burt refused to risk Carole becoming a widow again), Finn and Burt were pretty close, and Kurt viewed the taller boy almost like a brother. He often stopped by to catch a sports game with Burt, or to ask a few questions about the tire shop; he was helping out there for the summer, which worked out well for both of them. Finn could save up some money to help his mom pay for his tuition at Ohio State University, and Burt had someone he trusted in the shop while he was unable to leave the house. Between Finn's shifts at the shop and his football training, he didn't have much free time, but he did his best to visit the Hummel household whenever possible and both Kurt and Burt appreciated his efforts.
"Morning, Dad," said Kurt, as he went into the bedroom to help his dad get down to the first floor. "Finn has double sessions today with Coach Beiste, so he won't be able to stop by, but he said he hopes you're feeling better."
"Double sessions in this heat? That sounds almost as hard as walking to the couch," Burt joked. "He better make the Buckeyes with all this hard work he's putting in."
"That can be your motivation to stop complaining about the food I make you, Dad," responded Kurt. "You have to be well enough to take a trip to see one of his games! Maybe I'll even go with you – although scarlet and gray are not my best colors."
They chatted back and forth as Kurt prepared his dad's breakfast (egg whites, orange juice, and Greek yogurt, even though Burt would not-so-secretly kill for just one piece of greasy bacon). They had adjusted to this routine in the past month, although they both knew Kurt would rather be across the country, even if he would never say so out loud. Kurt's mind wandered to what he would do during his dad's late morning nap. During Spanish vocabulary tests and calculus derivates he would have burned his favorite sweater for free time to read through his bookshelf and catch up on his YouTube subscriptions; but after a few weeks of nothing but free time, he was almost jealous of everyone who would be going back to exams and textbooks in the fall. For a rare moment, he let himself think of his previous New York plans as he washed the dishes. They were on hold for now because his dad needed almost around the clock care. Even if they could afford to hire someone, Kurt felt obligated as the only child to be there for his dad, although it meant Rachel got a head start on becoming a Broadway legend.
"Hey kiddo," said Burt from the other room, "Could you help me figure out this remote? I want to watch the rest of the Indians game from last night but I can't get this damn D-R-V thing to work."
"Sure, Dad," he called back, as he placed the last dish in the drying rack. "I'll be there in a minute." He glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of a curly-haired boy walking into his neighbor's house, wearing what looked to be a terrible polyester blazer. Mrs. Phillips was a retired woman who lived by herself, so who could be visiting her on a Wednesday morning? As his dad yelled again from the living room, Kurt forced the question out of his mind; he had more pressing matters to deal with, like the last three innings of the latest Indians' loss. He let himself breathe one big sigh before heading into the adjoining room, thinking 'Just another thrilling day in the life of Kurt E. Hummel.'