Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
A/N:
Companion two-shot piece to 'Apart from your pieces left in me'.
Missing Burt, and because I figure he would so do this, awesome as he is :) Could I have chosen a cheesier Klaine title? I seriously had to go back and check if I hadn't yet written a story with that title, because I know plently with it must already be out there. What do you know, I really hadn't.
Not Alone
It is a long walk home, and the streets are cold and crowded on this clouded late autumn Friday afternoon, but really, Kurt could not care less.
'Rachel is gone for the weekend,' he reminds himself, content with the certainty that as soon as he has turned two more corners and climbed those familiar stairs up to his apartment he will be '… all alone. For two whole days, … alone.'
It is a precious gift when you live with one Rachel Berry – as close as they are, Kurt really needs his time away from her, at least one weekend every other month, every month if he is honest.
Lucky for Kurt, Rachel's dads are the clingy kind, which has never surprised Kurt. But them insisting on paying for Rachel's regular trip home to Lima, Ohio, is a fortunate turn for Kurt too, and especially his sanity.
He is still breathing a little harder than usual when he pulls the door shut behind him, and not really because of the endless seeming flights of stairs he just conquered, once again.
A couple of deep breaths later, forehead still resting against the cool brick wall, his muscles finally begin to relax.
Only when he turns around he finds, surprised, he is not alone at all.
Someone he had not dared to expect or ask but secretly hoped to drop everything for him is right there, … in the kitchen, stirring a pot – not that Kurt notices that, his eyes glued to the man alone.
"Dad?"
Even before Kurt can put down his bag Burt is over from the kitchen and hugging him close, still wearing Kurt's cooking apron with the pale blue and vibrant red flower print.
"What …, what are you doing here, Dad?"
Holding on even tighter to his son, Burt murmurs softly, "Like you don't already know I miss you like crazy. Rachel let me in before she left."
"And ...? Besides that? Because I know for a fact you miss me every day, because you tell me every time we talk. Did something else happen?" Kurt still taken with surprise cannot help the question slipping out, although he already knows he might not like the answer.
Burt finally pulling back, a little, but not entirely letting go of Kurt, as if he already knows what the other half of his answer might do to his son, says as gently as he knows how, which is plenty, "I know. About you and Blaine. Finn told me."
Burt watches Kurt's brief attempt at a sad smile falter, hears the bag slip from Kurt's fingers and land with a thud on the floor, then a whisper, "Dad?"
"Kurt, please don't be upset with him, he was worried."
Kurt is just standing there, shaking his head, eyes glued to the floor as the tears start to come.
Burt pulls Kurt back deep into his arms, and for minutes they just stand and hold on to each other.
"I missed you too, Dad," Kurt says before he pulls out of the hug and his eyes wander towards the kitchen where something is still cooking on the stove. And Kurt murmurs, "I haven't been gone that long, have I?"
"What was that, Kiddo?" Burt asks following Kurt's eyes now. "Oh, no. I still can't cook. Carole insisted on me bringing your favorite foods in buckets, so you don't starve yourself out of … grief. I was just heating up …."
"Her pasta sauce with fresh garlic, ginger and rosemary?" Kurt asks eyes wide with hope.
Burt nods with a smile as he sees his son's eyes bright with something other than tears.
And just like that Burt is wrapped back into his son's arms.
Burt lets out a relieved breath as he hugs back. "I can stay till Tuesday …, if you like. I drove so I could bring some more of your stuff too, we said we would, after all, as soon as you found a place."
"Dad, just, wow, thank you, … I, I. This is so great. I can finally show you New York. We never got the chance before."
Burt is chuckling softly at Kurt's enthusiasm.
As Burt steps back into the kitchen area to finish up their food, putting some spaghetti into water already boiling, Kurt takes of his coat and places it carefully over the back of the couch before he follows his dad to the stove.
Dinner itself is a quite affair, comfortable, warm, warming.
Burt cannot stop smiling at Kurt's appetite, taking it as a good, '... a very good sign.'
Burt does not bring up the most urgent incentive for his visit until after a comfortable walk around Kurt's neighborhood - Burt insisting on seeing that part of New York first, 'To make sure I am safe,' Kurt cannot shake the thought, nor the smile that comes with it.
They are sitting on the couch in the apartment and are sipping hot fruit juice, an old Hummel tradition to while away autumn and winter cold - a happy childhood memory for Kurt, and Burt figures Kurt needs those right now – when Burt clears his throat in a way that tells Kurt 'He is worried.'
Burt sees his son's shoulders slump a little at the sound, and he feels a slight surge of guilt running through his body, knowing he just caused that.
'I've got to know, Kurt, I just have got to know you … you, you won't ...' Taking a deep breath, having done everything he knows to put his son at the greatest possible ease, Burt steels himself to do what he came here for, "Kurt?"
A/N: Yes, what do you know, the storyline of their break-up and what it does to them both just won't leave me alone.