Yah. Sorry about typos/grammar. -_- Truth is, you don't really give a damn about anything at four-thirty in the morning.
Hmmm.. Enjoy! :D
"Sorry, guys," Burt says, quitting the game of pool that him and a few of his buddies had just started playing. "I gotta go pick up the kid."
Rick took a swig of his beer. "Yeah, man. That's cool."
"Yeah. Later, Burt."
"Hey, you're coming back next Friday, right?" Steve asked, also chugging down a bottle of beer.
"I can't... Kurt has a piano recital and Mommy has this big chicken dinner planned out," Burt responds, pulling on the front of his hat.
"Damn. Well, see you, bud!"
"Yeah."
Burt makes his way over to his wife and her friends. She's standing near the bar, making wild gestures with her hands and giggling her ass off.
"Hey, honey, we should be heading home now. The babysitter is only available until midnight," Burt says as he creeps up to his gossiping wife, caressing her shoulder and reeling her in. She takes a second to nod to her girlfriends, and spins around to smile at her husband and offer him her cosmopolitan. He takes the drink from her petite hand and leans over someone's shoulder in order to discard it on top of the bar.
"You're right," Charlotte lifts her wrist up to her chin, peering down at her silver wristwatch. "It's already eleven-thirty!" she exclaims, dropping her hand and snatching up her clutch-purse from one of the bar stools.
"Oh, Char! You're leaving?" whines the blonde girlfriend.
"Yeah, darling... Can't you spare another hour?" another one asks. She gets distracted quickly and smacks her red lips and juts out her hip just as an especially handsome young man was passing by. Charlotte laughs at this and shakes her head, feeling her shoulder-length curls bouncing about.
"Kurt's probably still awake. He's a real devil when it comes to bedtime. I can't imagine what our babysitter is going through right now," Burt sighs, wrapping an arm around Charlotte's waist.
"Oh my goodness!" she shrieks, ripping open her clutch and clawing through the contents until she finds her glittery coin-purse. She snaps it out and flicks it open, rummaging through it and swiping up a couple of coins. When she sees Burt with his raised eyebrow and slight frown, she takes a short breath and explains; "I-have-to-use-a-payphone-to-check-up-on-Kurt."
"Sweetie, do you really think-"
"Yes."
Burt sighs, knowing that it's useless to fight with Charlotte. She always finds a way to win every argument anyways. "Fine. I'll go start the car, okay?"
She nods, grabs up her belongings, and makes a beeline to the payphone at the other end of the bar. Burt feels like he should be with her at all times, guarding her and protecting her from everyone as she pushes her way through the crowd. His heart nearly stops when he sees her stumble a little bit and turn around to a bearded man with a smug look on his face. Charlotte cocks her head to the side and snarls at him. Burt automatically relaxes. He knows what that means when Charlotte cocks her head and brings her hand up to curl under her chin, sizing up the offending individual while blowing out an impressive amount of air through her nose. She opens those plush lips, unknowingly letting all hell break loose as she whips out a shocking string of insults directed at that person's hideous fashion sense. Burt feels his chest fill up with pride, grinning at how lucky he was to marry someone like her.
Charlotte snaps her fingers and clicks her tongue, leaving the bearded man standing there looking confused and hurt. She continues on her journey to the payphone, and Burt knows that he should be warming up the car by now. He knows that his Charlotte will be just fine without him for the time being.
He exits the bar, stepping down the stairs and walking across the parking lot to their car. Burt still has his mouth screwed up in that very same grin. He doesn't care about the people who scoff at him and chuckle at the weird guy who's walking around outside with a stupid-looking smile for seemingly no apparent reason. Hell, he's always that guy when Charlotte manages to amaze him... which is every single day of his life.
When he gets to the car, he pauses, and smacks his palm against his forehead. He forgot that Charlotte had driven them there and that she still had her keys in her purse. He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, kicking the snow absentmindedly all the way back to the bar's entrance.
Once he's back inside the bar, he cranes his neck upwards and searches for his wife. She's still at the payphone, viciously hollering into the mouthpiece. He slides by the mass amount of people, pushing shoulders and muttering excuses every two seconds.
"Now you listen to me, Amelia! I'm paying you good money for you to just feed my son, make sure he gets his pyjamas on, make sure he doesn't catch on fire or throw knives at the mirrors, and to ensure that he doesn't get dry skin or chapped lips!"
"Honey? What's going on?" Burt questions.
She puts the phone down on her chest. "Amelia says Kurt is still awake and is taking a bath!"
"Uhh... isn't that a good thing?"
"No! How could you even- NO! I don't know what products he's using!"
"Honey... He's just a kid."
"Yes. Kurt is a kid that throws terrible temper tantrums when the bubbles in his bath don't smell like watermelons and when he doesn't have Sex Bomb fizzing under the faucet."
Charlotte brings the phone back up. "Okay, Amelia! Calm down! Kurt really needs to stop that screaming! Just throw a towel on his head and try your best to wrestle him out of the tub!"
"What?" Burt squeaks.
"Just... whatever you do, don't mess up his hair!"
"Honey?" Burt starts to panic.
"Oh, and put some tea on! Yeah! And get him dressed and ready for us in twenty minutes! Okay? See you soon!"
Charlotte hangs up the phone.
Burt gawks at her, silently pleading for some answers. She simply shrugs and reminds him that she learned just how precise, difficult, and dangerous it was to prepare Kurt's baths since he was a mere two year old boy.
"So, what are you doing? I thought you were going to start the car up," Charlotte says, tilting her head to the left in that charming way she had been doing since they were in college.
"Right. You have the keys, remember?"
"Oh! Sorry, honey." She digs through her clutch again, drops it, and hands over the ring of keys, complete by a tiny copy of a photo of Charlotte and Kurt cuddled together with tiaras perched on top of their perfectly coiffed hair. He takes the keys and holds his free hand out Charlotte, who blushes and shyly accepts it into her own. They slip through the crowd again and exit. Before long, they're driving down the street, heading towards Amelia's house.
"I love you, you know," Charlotte whispers out of nowhere.
Burt moves to turn down the volume of Kurt's Broadway Hits CD, but decides against it and just powers the whole damn stereo off.
"Of course I do," Burt answers, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead. "I love you, too."
She smiles and leans over to press her lips to Burt's cheek.
"Oh my GOD!" she screams, making Burt cringe because her face is still right by his. "I forgot my purse at the bar! Turn around! Turn around! Turn around!"
"What? Are you sure?"
"Positive!"
Burt makes a radical U-turn, not really caring about it since they're practically the only ones on the road. He drives fast and stops right by the entrance to the bar. Charlotte hops out of the vehicle, but spins around to say something to her beloved husband.
"Just go pick up Kurt! I'll get a ride with a girlfriend. It's almost midnight! Go!"
"What? Are you kidding? Just run in there and get your purse and run out! It won't take long," Burt protested.
"No! Just go, okay? I'll be back in half an hour... and you better have some tea out."
Burt once again reminds himself of how useless it is to argue with her. He starts up the car and waves to his wife. Charlotte blows a kiss in return, shuts the passenger door, and runs as fast as her stilettos can allow her to.
"Okay, Kurt. Let's go," Burt demands, standing in Amelia's doorway.
Kurt puts his Power Rangers knapsack on and holds his father's hand. Kurt drags his feet, eyes half-lidded and his back is just slightly hunched. When he's standing next to his father as Burt flips through his wad of cash and gives a generous amount to Amelia, he leans on his leg and lets his head roll onto Burt's side. Kurt's eyelids are drooping even more now and his knapsack is starting to slide off of his shoulders.
"Sleepy, kiddo?" Burt says softly. He wraps his hands around his only son and picks him up, not really minding how Kurt nuzzles his face into his neck and falls asleep. Burt nods to Amelia, and walks out the door. He keeps Kurt in his arms, but lays him down in the back seat once they reach their car.
While he's driving back home, he keeps looking back at him. Burt feels like he could get used to the Kurt that does not constantly critique people's choice of clothing or belt out some showtunes.
They pull into their parking spot across from their house. Burt steps out of the car and opens the back door, poking his head in to check if Kurt was still knocked out. He leans inside and swoops up the dozing boy, cradling him in this arms and just leaves the knapsack. He kicks the door shut and locks it, then takes carefully steady steps the entire way up their sidewalk and to their front door. They get inside the house and he carries Kurt down to his room, going as slow as he could without going insane. He bends at his knees and gently lays him down, picking up the folded blanket at the foot of the bed and draping it over his small frame. He plants a kiss on his forehead, brushing his fingers over the pale skin that reminds him so much of his beautiful mother. Burt sneaks back up the stairs, shutting the bedroom door as quietly as he could before heading off to the kitchen.
He puts the kettle on, brings out two mugs, and places the sugar and milk on the table top.
Burt takes a peek at the clock hanging on the wall. "Twelve-forty-eight," he mutters. He rubs his eyes, starting to also feel ready to go to bed. Yet, Burt stays there at the table, drumming his calloused fingers on it while he keeps checking the time.
Soon, it gets to be one-thirty. By this time, Burt is extremely exhausted, having already drank his tea and had stuck his wife's mug into the microwave to reheat multiple times. If there was one thing that Charlotte could absolutely not stand, it was cold tea. After a few minutes, Burt retires to his bedroom, keeping the kitchen light on just so that Charlotte could see her way around the house when she gets home.
He wakes up to find Kurt bouncing up and down on the other side of the bed. He's giggling uncontrollably, and even though Burt should snap and tell Kurt that doing that wasn't nice, he laughs along as well. He lunges for his son, making Kurt tumble and fall down on the bed. He has a big goofy grin on, and just laughs more when Burt starts to play wrestle with him. In a couple minutes, Burt's out of breath, and flops onto his back.
"Good morning, kiddo."
"Good morning, Daddy!" Kurt yelps in return. He sits up on his calves next to his father, picking at the fringe of his mother's pillowcase.
"Where's Mommy?" he asks.
That's when Burt realizes that Charlotte had not come home yet. He sits up suddenly, and admits that he doesn't know.
"But... When's she coming back?"
"I'm sure she'll be back in a while, Kurtie." Burt offers a reassuring smile.
"Okay then."
"Hey! You gotta get dressed now," Burt says, looking pointedly at Kurt's pair of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pyjamas. Kurt jumps up, clapping his hands excitedly as he shares his perfect ideas about an outfit for today. Burt just enters a few, "Oh, that's sounds nice"s. Usually, he gushes about these things with his mother, so he really was kind of clueless when it came to giving feedback to him. Soon enough, Kurt springs off of the bed and prances out of Burt and Charlotte's bedroom, making Burt sigh out in relief.
Once Kurt's in his own room, Burt gets out of bed and puts his housecoat on. He walks over to the kitchen, and feels his stomach drop when he sees that the light is still on and that there was still a full cup of cold tea on the table.
He opens the fridge and takes out the egg carton. He starts preparing Kurt some scrambled eggs, but is interrupted when the house phone starts ringing. Burt drops the spatula, turns off the stove, and jogs over to the living room, picking up the phone and answering the call in one swift movement.
The phone slips from his grasp, crashing onto the floor. His heart feels like it had been shoved up his throat, and before he can stop himself, he begins weeping. His whole body shakes violently as each choked sob passes through his lips. He sits down on the couch, putting his head in his trembling hands.
"Daddy?"
Burt wipes a hand over his eyes before looking straight at his child. Kurt is standing right by his bedroom door, staring with wide, confused eyes at his sobbing father.
"Come here, Kurt."
Kurt obliges and runs up to him.
"Mommy... Mommy's not coming home."
It takes Kurt a few moments for it sink in. Then he fits the pieces together. His eyes fill up with tears and he throws himself at his father, flinging his arms around his neck as Burt hugs Kurt as tightly as he can. They sob together until they both cry themselves to sleep.
"Kurt! Come up here! Dinner's ready!" Burt calls from the kitchen, he's setting the table with only two plates and two cups and two forks.
Kurt comes up from his bedroom, walking over and sitting down at his chair at the dinner table. He keeps his head bowed down, but only looks up to see what it is that his father had made for dinner. Burt takes out some chicken, and places some on Kurt's plate before putting a large amount of it on his own. Kurt doesn't look like he has much of an appetite. Friday night dinners just didn't feel the same without his mother being present.
Burt pokes his chicken around a bit with his fork, but then stabs it with his knife. Kurt looks up at this too, but stares at it when he feels a slight pulling on the corner of his lips. Burt lets out a loud laugh, commenting on how the chicken is raw. Kurt starts laughing as well, not thinking about what had happened just a week earlier. They laugh and snort until tears come out of the corners of their eyes.
"Oh boy! Guess we might just have to order in, buddy!" Burt exclaims, standing up and tucking his chair in. He goes around the table and picks up the chicken, tossing the plates on the counter top.
"How about we go eat at Breadstix? My piano classes are right beside it," Kurt suggested.
"Yeah. That sounds like a plan. Well, get your shoes on!"
"Oh my goodness!"
"What?"
"I-have-to-change-for-my-piano-recital!"
"Sweetheart, do you really need-"
"Yes!"
Burt sighs, knowing that it's useless to fight with Kurt. He always finds a way to win every argument anyways. "Fine. I'll go start the car, okay?"
Even though Charlotte was gone, it seemed like most of her had stayed in the form of one Kurt Hummel.