I Want To Hold Your Hand by andromeda05

Word Count: 55,853
Characters: Kurt Hummel, Burt Hummel, Noah Puckerman, other Glee characters
Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt, Burt/Carole
Genre: Hurt/comfort, angst, drama, romance
Rating: PG13 (chapter 8 is rated R)
Warnings: Graphic images of a hate crime, can cause trigger so please be aware. Spoilers up to "Grilled Cheesus" and Torchwood spoilers ("episodes that never occurred").
Summary: Burt Hummel's mind had flown to one thing and one thing only as he collapsed to the ground-his son, his beautiful child and how his death would destroy the boy.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This time frame is a little different. Instead of Puck going to juvie during the show, he went to juvie in the summer instead. I adored Grilled Cheesus. It was beautiful, but I desperately wanted more! I think there could've been so much more to it, so this is a combination of that and some other things I've wanted to write for awhile. Also, I'm pretty medically savvy. I understand terms, I worked around the medical field long enough to know what really happens, so I tried to make this as medically specific as possible. That said, what I don't know I looked up on . This ultimately became more AU than I truly intended, so you'll find parts of the episode in here, but then it took on a mind of its own.
Betas: nieded and sparkysparky

.net/kbb/r1/niniblack_ Banner # 1 from the Big Bang Challenge for my piece (I will post the second one in that chapter)

Chapter One

"Hey Dad!" the slightly high-pitched voice called as he walked through the door of the garage with a brown paper bag in hand.

Burt Hummel smiled. "Hey there's my boy," he greeted as he moved the oil drip tray under the car.

"You forgot your breakfast. Suzanne Somers says that skipping breakfast is suicide," Kurt scolded.

Burt rolled his eyes and took the bag from his son, not really caring what anyone said about his eating habits. He was disappointed when he opened it. "Where's my usual?"

"Two Slim Jims and a Coke—"

"Yeah, breakfast of champions," Burt stated indignantly.

The young boy glared at his father. "Dad, you're not a kid anymore. You have to start eating better."

Burt responded with a non-committal grunt and placed the bag behind his son on a work bench. "S'pose with enough hot sauce this'll be good." While his son was his son, some days he tried the patience of a saint. Going back to his oil tray he glanced at him once more. "Don't forget Friday Night Dinner's at six instead of seven this week. Finn and Carole are coming over, and Carole has to work the night shift."

'Great,' Kurt thought. 'More quality time with my not-brother.' He didn't mind Finn, but honestly he still felt like he was getting shoved out of the way when Finn was around. He knew his father didn't mean it to feel that way, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking that. "I can't make it. It's the Sing-A-Long Sound of Music down at La Theatre," Kurt stated, daring his father to respond.

"Right and last week you had to camp out all night for those Grey's Anatomy DVDs."

Kurt was appalled. "Season six, Dad."

"Kurt, these Friday Night Dinners are a tradition in this family, one your mother started before..." Burt stopped and looked at his son, a little frustrated with the child.

"Dad, I'm a teenager. Friday nights are kind of a big deal to me. Anyway, why are you making me feel guilty about this? I understand how important the relationship is between you and Carole."

"This isn't about me and Carole," Burt snapped. He sighed and shook his head. "The point is, Kurt, those dinners are sacred, and the whole point of having something sacred is that they take precedence over everything else."

"Well the Sound of Music is sacred to me."

Burt felt the anger flare through his veins. "You think I don't know that? Wasn't I the one who bought you that Maria Bonnet for you when you were six?"

"For the love of Gaga," Kurt muttered, earning a glare from his father.

"Let's face it Kurt, if we don't have those dinners, then we don't see one another. If we don't schedule it, it doesn't happen and we go right by one another! We don't share a lot Kurt," Burt stated angrily. He didn't add that he was afraid his son was going to grow up, leave the city, and forget his father. He wasn't going to share that he felt like his son was pulling away and that he missed the brat some days. Burt couldn't help but miss the days when he'd been everything to his son.

He could still remember holding his son for the very first time, and the astounding feeling of love he'd felt in those first few moments. There was something truly terrifying about watching a woman give birth. His mother had once told him that it was beautiful after everything was finished, but Burt had spent seventeen hours watching his wife cry, yell and scream in pain. Not to mention clearly lose the ability to control a majority of her bodily functions. He wasn't exactly sure what part of that was beautiful. Then he was handed the tiny preemie baby.

"Oh..." he whispered, looking down at the child. The infant had a tuft of dark brown hair, and his eyes were blue. A nurse had explained all babies were born with blue eyes for the first several weeks. Burt looked over at his sleeping wife. Angie had been through a lot. The doctors said she'd sleep for a few hours before she had to wake up and breast feed. While the baby was a preemie, he was only three weeks early, causing the doctors said he may have a slightly weakened immune system, but otherwise he looked perfect.

His face was bright red from screaming so there was no question he had a set of lungs on him. "Hey little guy," Burt whispered, running one of his fingers down the infant's cheek. The baby stopped crying and stared up at Burt, occasionally taking a few shaky breathes. Burt was astounded by how large his finger was in comparison to the cheek. He felt his heart ache and swell all at once as he studied the baby.

"Mr. Hummel?" a soft voice spoke to him. He glanced up and smiled at a nurse. "Would you like us to take your son to the nursery?"

"I..." He shook his head slowly, looking back down at his son. No, he wasn't ready. He was terrified that if he let go of his only child, he'd be gone suddenly. Burt wasn't ready to let this little one go yet.

She smiled warmly. "It's okay Mr. Hummel. I'll come back. Most fathers can't give up their babies' right after they're born." With another soft smile she slipped out of the room, leaving father and son alone.

Burt snuggled his son a little closer, making sure he felt safe and warm, started to hum. It was Angie's favorite song. "Oh I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand." He continued to sing the song softly and slowly, not as it had been originally done..

"Are you even paying attention to me?" Kurt snapped his father out of his memories. Kurt questioned as he looked at his father.

"Sorry. What did you say?"

Kurt gave a mighty huff and began to walk off. "Maybe we could do it Thursday or something," Kurt muttered as he turned around to face his father.

Burt shook his head. They'd never missed a Friday Night Dinner up until last week, not even when Angie had passed away. "Kurt, I gotta tell you, I'm really disappointed in you right now."

Kurt didn't even bother to reply, shaking his head as he left for the Navigator. Burt sighed as he looked back at the paper bag. He wished he knew when he'd gone from the hero and the daddy to just another guy Kurt saw in passing. Closing his eyes, he sat down heavily in a chair nearby. He could remember everything about Kurt when he'd been little. He smiled sadly at the thought. Glancing around to see no one was around, he pulled his wallet out and pulled a picture out that he had hidden behind Kurt's most current school photo. The picture held a tiny little baby, cuddled in his arms. Burt had been younger then. He'd had hair. Burt put the picture back in his wallet and headed back to work.

Burt stood by the counter a few hours later, waiting on a customer. "Well it looks like we have two of what you need in stock, but let me just check. I don't trust the guy who does our inventory," Burt forced a smile. His chest was aching. He'd been warm for the past several minutes. He couldn't ever remember this kind of pain sparking in his chest and the back of his shoulders.

"Oh yeah, who's that?" the gentleman asked.

"Me," Burt joked. The man laughed as Burt smiled and turned away, grimacing as he felt his stomach roll.

"You okay?" the man questioned.

Burt gave a nod. "Yeah, just a little indigestion. Don't buy burritos from the gas station down the street." Just as he was about to move from the desk he felt his world begin to tilt. He groaned and a second later everything sounded far away and muffled. He was barely even aware as he hit the ground, too focused on the pain erupting in his chest.

"Sir?" someone called out to him. He struggled, looking around. The pain exploded. "Sir, do you have any relatives?"

"Kurt?" Burt groaned, almost crying at the pain as it began to wash over him.

"Who's Kurt?" a voice asked.

"It's his son," Jimmy replied, looking terrified from where he'd been kneeling behind. "I'll call the kid." Jimmy had known Burt Hummel since high school. He'd been there to see Kurt in the first week, and he'd helped Burt teach Kurt everything they knew about cars.

Burt heard sirens nearby. "We're taking him to Lima Memorial." the voice above him spoke. Burt was confused. He'd only been on the ground for a few seconds...right?

"Thanks," Jimmy replied as he watched his best friend being lifted into the back of an ambulance, an oxygen mask over his pale and clammy face. "Please don't leave that boy," Jimmy whispered softly.

It wasn't much of a secret that the Hummel men were as tight as two could be. Despite their fair share of disagreements and things they didn't understand about one another, Kurt adored his father and Burt adored his son as if he'd hung the stars and the moon in the sky himself.

The drive to the high school was in the opposite direction of the hospital than the garage, but Jimmy would break every speed limit in the area if it meant getting to Little Hummel quicker. He thanked whoever was listening that Burt had helped repair every police car on the force. They rarely got pulled over.

He pulled up in front of the school, hurrying into the main office. "What class is Kurt Hummel in?" he demanded.

Emma Pillsbury looked at the grease covered man and grimaced at the grease on his hands and shirt. "Who wants to know?" she asked, almost nervous.

"I'm Jimmy. He knows me. I work with him at the shop... It's about his father."

"I'll take you to him," Emma replied.

She guided him down the hallway. Running into Will on the way was an accident, but he quickly joined the mini entourage. Jimmy stepped into the doorway of the French classroom to see the boy talking to some jock. Jimmy smiled weakly. That was always Kurt. He was just like his momma. "Kurt," Jimmy whispered.

Kurt turned his head, looking at Jimmy. He smiled at first then registered who he was looking at. "Jimmy?"

"We need to go, son."

Kurt glanced at Emma and Will, and then nodded ever so slowly. He followed them into the hallway. Kurt looked around before he looked up at Jimmy. "What happened? Is he okay—"

Jimmy held up his hand. "He had a heart attack, son. Burt was with a customer when it happened, so we were able to get him help quickly. He was alive when they left."

Kurt was shaking as his legs began to go numb. He felt his head begin to whirl. Jimmy reached out and helped lower Kurt to the ground and put the boy's head between his legs. "Breathe, Kurt," he soothed.

"We should head to the hospital—" Will suggested.

Jimmy cut Will off. "Look here, buddy. I've known this boy since he was less than knee high. He's the only kid I got. Look, this ain't something Burt would just want forced on Kurt. Give him a minute to process."

Kurt felt overwhelmed. "Jimmy...is my dad...?"

"He's still alive, Kurt, but we need to go to the hospital. I'll drive you, son."

Kurt gave a weak nod, gripping Jimmy's greased hands. Both Will and Emma were a little surprised at how easily Kurt followed the man. Even as they began to move down the hallway, Kurt leaned into Jimmy's touch a little, as if gaining strength from him. "He's strong, Kurt. You know your dad."

Will and Emma decided it might be best to follow. With Kurt tucked in Jimmy's car, they followed in Emma's car. Kurt was sitting just staring out the window when something hit him. "I need to call Carole."

Jimmy drove the twenty-minute drive to Lima Memorial, feeling like it was an eternity. Meanwhile Kurt dialed. "Carole Hudson," he spoke into the phone.

"Son, I can't stay with you long at the hospital, okay? I have to go work in the shop."

"Thank you for bringing me."

Jimmy nodded numbly and continued to drive. Kurt finally heard the phone ring and he waited. "Carole, it's Kurt."

"Sweetheart, what's the matter? You never call me."

Kurt bit his lip, taking a shaky breath. "Dad just had...had a heart attack," he replied, as if hating himself for admitting it.

"Oh god, sweetie, are you okay?"

Kurt began to nod but then suddenly shook his head. "No...can you come?"

"I'll be there as quickly as I can, promise."

"Thank you." He squeezed his eyes, trying to force the tears back further.

"Kurt, your dad loves you."

Kurt nodded. "I know. I...I..." He stopped suddenly unable to say the words.

Carole clearly understood. "I love you too, sweetie. I'll be there as soon as I can."