Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be. I claim nothing.
A/N: First ever glee fic and its utter rambliness. Oh well.
He generally failed to notice when the tears came. When they did come, they came discretely, blending into his pale skin as they fell. They weren't big, fat droplets. They came with no sobs or scratchy voices. They were just tears; a reflection of his feelings all bundled up in a salty package and sent out of his body. The tears were barely there, as if they hid on purpose with the purposeful knowledge that any blatant show of pain would ruin the holier-than-thou image that he had created for himself.
Kurt Hummel was used to the tears.
It had been a sunny day and Kurt remembered his dad sitting him on a stool. The toddler swung his legs back and forth and watched his father work on whatever old ratty car drove up into the garage, tailpipe dragging behind while the engines puttered weakly.
His dad worked magic before his eyes and the puttering, sobbing car hummed happily as it left the garage, a greasy, sweaty Burt waving goodbye. Kurt watched his dad with pride and did his part to help out, handing the man a moist towlette with his pudgy hand.
"You know Daddy," Kurt started, "you're a fairy godmother."
Burt merely grunted and took off his hat, wiping away the beads of sweat gleaming on his forehead.
"You turn this ugly, sad looking car and you work on it. And when you're done, it's like 'poof!' It looks pretty and new. You made it happy."
"Son, cars don't have feelings, but it's good to know. I appreciate knowing I'm needed."
"I need you! I need you to feed me." The young boy laughed, his face splitting with his smile. "But you can't make yummy food. When's Mommy coming home?"
Burt's smile slid off his face and he chanced a glance at the clock. "How about we go see her now? I can leave the rest of the appointments to the boys and we can go see your mother."
Kurt's eyes lit up. "Oh can we? Can we?"
"Go grab your shoes and I'll get my keys. Chop chop, visiting hours are only until 6."
To Kurt, the car ride never seemed so long. He was a young boy, finally able to see his mother after what seemed like weeks, though it was only a matter of a couple days. He never knew when his mother fell sick. It seemed to him that she was always ailing. Her hospital stays slowly grew longer and longer and the next thing he knew, she had a room of her own, a curtain drawn around her bed.
The hospital room always smelled the same. It smelled like… sick.
Kurt wrinkled his nose, refusing to touch anything but his father's hand, holding tightly to it stubbornly. When the door opened, he saw his mother. In an instant, his mind flew back to memories of flushed, rosy cheeks and thing but powerful arms wrapped around him. That wasn't this mother. She was sickly now, for lack of better word.
He approached his mother, a suddenly pale, gaunt woman who smiled at him and patted his hair as he hugged her. "Hey honey." Her voice was soft and quiet, almost inaudible.
"Hi Mommy. Are you better now?" He snuggled up against her, taking a deep breath of her. She smelled like soap, linen, and mint, not at all like how she was supposed to smell.
"Not yet. Soon though."
Kurt laid his head on her chest and drew himself into the bed, listening to the ba dump of her heartbeats. Her hands ran through his hair and she sung softly in his ear, along with the slow song playing on the radio crackling in the corner. He just cried.
His dad had slipped through the door to leave them alone a while back, but the boy never noticed.
The young boy shed a pool of tears on his mother's shoulder. He wasn't dumb. He knew what was going on. He was losing his mother.
Kurt Hummel was used to the tears. He just shook them off and grabbed a pair of sunglasses to hide behind and cranked up the music, the sound of an acoustic guitar echoing off the basement's cold, white surfaces.
A/N: I just adore Kurt. Review please.
XOXO
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