Sequel to "If Only I Could Forget" by TreenBeen. I read this a while ago and I just had to do a follow-up. I hope you deem this worthy TreenBeen!
Burt didn't know what to do. All week, Kurt didn't necessarily avoid him, but instead avoided eye contact and spoke as little as possible directly to him. He honestly felt his heart shatter when he reached out towards him and he flinched. Flinched. Like he was about to hit him or something. He had never felt worse, not even when Lucy had died.
He couldn't help but be who he was, and Burt had shut him down for that. He was no different than the bullies Kurt had taken to not telling him about. Kurt didn't know, but Finn always told him stories of how bad the bullying could get for Kurt. Not that he did anything about it. And now he had made it worse.
Every time he made eye contact with Kurt, he would look away, but not before Burt could see the pain in his eyes. Pain he had caused. Pain he should have been protecting him from. He had never regretted anything more in his life.
Carole had went out and Finn was at Puck's house. It was now or never. He walked to Kurt's room and poked his head into the room. The lights were dim and Kurt was sitting on the bed, eyes closed as he listened to his iPod. He looked so…. Peaceful, just sitting there… wait. Was that….blood?
Burt rushed over to the bed to find a small knife in his hand, the blade covered in his blood. "K-Kurt? Kurt, KURT!" he yelled, as if his voice would wake his son up, "Shit! KURT!" he screamed, shaking his son, tears blurring his vision.
He fumbled with his phone, trying ten times before he dialed the right number. "911, what's your emergency?"
"My son, he's bleeding and he won't wake up, just please…"
"Please tell me your location."
He choked out the information, dropping the phone when the woman hung up, gripping Kurt's arm, trying to stop the bleeding. "Kurt, don't leave me, please, don't leave me alone…"
GLEEGLEEGLEEGLEEGLEEGLEE
He rushes into the room as fast as he could when the doctor said he could see him. "Kurt?" The boy still had his eyes closed, the machine beeping the only thing that served to tell him if his son was alive. Kurt never really made much movement when he slept.
"Kurt? Wake up, please," he begs, holding his son's way too small, delicate, soft hands.
Kurt's eyes slowly flutter open his eyes, squinting a little at the brightness of the room. As soon as he sees Burt, he yanks his hand from his, avoiding his father's eyes. "Why?" he breathes angrily, "why couldn't you have just let me die? It would have been easier for you. Then mom could have dealt with me and my fagginess." Burt's breath hitches, each word like a stab to his heart.
"Kurt, I didn't mean those things I said," he tries to explain, but Kurt holds up his hand to silence him.
"Yes you did. You only said them, because you thought I would forget, but it doesn't change the fact….that you think it's true," Kurt says, his voice wavering slightly, obviously holding back tears. Burt remembers what he said about Kurt always crying and knows the reason for Kurt's lack of tears. The thought makes his stomach turn.
"I just thought I'd make it easier." Burt grabs his son's hands and forces Kurt to look at him.
"Don't you ever say that again. I may get frustrated sometimes with you, but I don't ever regret you being gay. I'm proud of who you are and who you turned out to be. I may have to work harder to keep it under control, but to hell with it if I don't enjoy every minute I have with you, and I wouldn't change that for the world," Burt says, mustering as much sincerity as he can into his words
"I thought you hated me. I felt like the last person that was always there for me was gone, and all was left was a stranger who didn't want me. Did you know that the only thing from offing myself was you? When you said all those things to me….I felt like the only thing tying me here was gone, and I could leave without feeling guilty," Kurt confesses, his tears silent but visible as they trail down his cheeks.
"Kurt, if you ever left me, I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing it was my fault. When I saw you lying there with that pool of blood, I was so scared I was going to lose you like I did with Lucy," Burt replies, tears falling from his face as well, "after she died, I swore I would protect you, and I failed her, If anything, I'm the one that should be feeling guilty, and believe it when I say I do," he pleads, trying to get his son to see how much he meant to him, "I love you so much, no matter who you are, how you act, or what you do, please believe me."
"But you don't like it."
Burt stops at that. He wants to get angry, tell Kurt that it isn't true, but he looks into Kurt's eyes, which had turned an icy blue. It isn't what Kurt thinks he knows, it's what he sees everyday, every time he gets another phone call, every time he takes care of his skin, ever time he walks out of the house in his girly coats and skinny jeans.
"I see it. Don't bother trying to deny it, and I'm not trying to guilt trip you or anything, but please don't act like I'm stupid," Kurt says softly, brushing his fingers lightly over his dad's forehead.
"I want to sleep now," he whispers, eyes fluttering closed as he drifts away.
Burt watches his son sleep, replaying the conversation over in his head, wishing it was different, but as he stares at his son, he knows that that's just the way it is, and nothing he'll ever say will change the way Kurt sees him now.