A/N: ***Okay, just so you know, this isn't as dark as it sounds xD Written for the Kurtoberfest prompt 'graveyard'.
"OhmyGod! OhmyGod! OhmyGod! OhmyGod!"
"Do I take it that means you like it?" Burt asks his son as Kurt circles the black SUV parked in their driveway.
"I love it!" Kurt squeals. "It's exactly the one I wanted!"
"Of course it is," Burt says with a laugh. "You only emailed me a picture, gave me a brochure with this model circled, and then taped the listings of every one available in Lima on every wall of the house. You might think I'm not quick, kiddo, but I eventually got the hint."
"And I thought I was being so subtle," Kurt jokes, peering through the tinted window at the immaculate interior. Ooo, cream colored leather. Yup – exactly what he wanted. Way to go, Dad!
"Why don't you take her for a spin?"
Kurt looks at his father, conflicted. He really does want to hop into his SUV and ride off into the sunset…but should he? "Are you sure? I mean, it's Friday. Friday's are family night."
"Meh. You'll make it up to me next Friday," Burt promises, tossing Kurt the keys. "Go! Pick up your friends! Go cruising! Have a good time!"
"Well…if you're sure," Kurt reasons with the door already open, sitting halfway in the driver's seat.
"Yes, I'm sure. Now go!" Burt says, closing the door behind him. He watches his son stick the key in the ignition and realizes he's holding his breath. Burt has been dreading this day for quite some time, ever since Kurt's mother Elizabeth was killed by a drunk driver. A sudden last second of trepidation tears into him when he hears the engine turn over. "A-and be careful. Don't text and drive, alright? Keep your hands on the steering wheel and your eyes on the road."
"I will, Dad," Kurt says, putting the SUV into gear.
Burt watches his son go, fighting hard to stomp away the urge to beg him to stop. Don't leave. Not tonight. That same unsettling tickle creeping up the back of his neck the way it did eight years ago when Elizabeth pulled out of this same driveway in her brand new birthday sedan…and never returned. Burt doesn't want to be overprotective, but Kurt is his only son, and the last bit of his wife that Burt has in his life. If anything ever happened to Kurt, Burt would lose everything.
Burt takes a step away as Kurt pulls down the driveway, slowly and more cautiously than Burt would, and that makes Burt feel a touch better. Kurt is playing things safe. He's an intelligent young man. He'll be fine.
And Burt absolutely believes that…even if he's going to be chewing his nails for the next few hours until Kurt comes home - alive and in one piece.
Burt doesn't hear Kurt when he returns a full hour before curfew. He parks his SUV in the driveway and sneaks up to his bedroom. He doesn't stop by his dad's room to tell him he's back, doesn't gush over how great his time out was. Burt notices the Navigator when he walks past the living room window on his way to the kitchen. He's curious as hell as to why his son, who seemed so excited about finally having a vehicle of his own, is back so early, but decides to give Kurt time to come to him on his own first. When a half hour goes by and Kurt doesn't, Burt stops by Kurt's door and finds his son in bed with his clothes and shoes still on, staring up at the ceiling in his unlit bedroom.
He looks like he might have been crying.
"Kurt?" Burt is happy to see him home safe, but he feels uneasy finding his boy lying silently in the dark. "Are you okay? I didn't hear you when you got home."
"I'm fine," Kurt says in a voice that's thick, and shakes regardless of how tight he keeps his words.
"Are you sure you're fine? Because you don't look fine."
"Yeah, I'm sure. Why?"
"Well, it kinda looks like you've seen a ghost."
Kurt swallows hard, the sound of that gulp sending a shiver down Burt's spine.
"Did something happen tonight?" Burt asks. "Something with your friends, or…"
"No," Kurt hiccups. "No, it's nothing like that. It's…" Kurt sits up, his entire body trembling. "Dad? Can I…can I tell you something?"
"Sure, kiddo." Burt walks into the room. He switches on a light and sits on Kurt's bed. "You can tell me anything."
Kurt nods. Grabbing a tissue off his bedside table, he wipes his nose. "Dad, something…terrible happened."
"Okay…" Burt says, waiting for the worst. "Well, don't keep your old man in suspense. What happened, bud?"
Kurt shifts in his seat, sitting beside his father with his hands in his lap, trying to figure out where to start. "So, I was coming home…"
"Yeah…?"
"I was driving past the graveyard, taking the long way home…"
"And…"
"And I wasn't speeding or anything," Kurt says, his voice becoming pitchy as he holds back a sob. "I just wanted a little more time to drive, a little time alone to enjoy it…"
"I understand, Kurt." Burt puts a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, hoping that'll help calm his nerves – both their nerves. "Hey…we've all been there."
"I had the radio on a little loud, but I swear, I wasn't texting. I was watching the road…both hands on the wheel, just like you said…"
"That's good, Kurt. It's good to know you were being safe." Burt feels like he's inching towards the edge of a cliff, one he's about to leap off of without knowing how high up it is. Kurt's pauses in conversation are doing his heart no favors. At this point, Burt's imagination has started spiraling off, images of what might have happened to his son spinning donuts in his brain. But Burt saw the SUV in the driveway. It looks fine from what he could tell. And Kurt, sitting here beside him, is also fine. Shaken up maybe, but fine. So… "What? What happened, Kurt?"
"I hit…"
"Yes, yes, what? You hit a tree?" Burt hears his own voice shaking. "A rock? Another car?" That could still be a possibility. Kurt had pulled backward into the driveway. If Kurt ran into something, Burt might not have noticed any damage right away. Or so he tells himself. He's been repairing cars since he was a teenager. But that excuse keeps Burt from thinking of what else Kurt could have hit, what might have him lying in bed alone, almost in a state of shock…
"I killed…"
"Oh my God…" As Burt waits for his son to finish his confession, his mind races to a hundred different places. His son had just killed someone with his SUV. Dammit! Burt knew that damn thing would be too big for Kurt to handle! He learned to drive in a Toyota Corolla, for Christ's sake! But that's beside the point. What do they do now? First, he'll take the SUV down to the shop and have it detailed inside and out. Second…he'll need to get rid of the body. How!? How do they get rid of a human body!? Who would know…Arnold Pulnichak! Down at the Greater Lima Crematorium. He owes Burt a favor. Yeah. Burt will just give him a call. No problem.
Burt knows in his heart that they should call the police and turn Kurt in. After all, this was an accident. Kurt didn't intend on killing anybody. He's just a teenager. It's Burt's fault, really. He should have gone with Kurt for his first time out. Even if Kurt does have his license, even if he about aced his driving test, he's still an inexperienced driver. The responsibility for this falls completely on Burt. But the police might not see it that way. Not after Kurt waited this long to tell someone. No. Covering it up is the only way. Maybe they'll even move. Kurt can't go to prison. He won't do well in prison.
"Kurt," Burt says, squeezing his son's shoulder unintentionally hard, "you're going to have to tell me everything. Every little detail, no matter how disturbing. Just start from the beginning."
Kurt nods, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Oh, Dad! It was awful! I killed…" Kurt sniffles, "a rabbit."
"Okay, Kurt," Burt says decisively. "Everything's going to be okay, do you hear me? We can fix this. We'll make it go away. We just have to…wait." Burt stops talking. He takes a breath. What did his son just say? "What did you kill?"
"I hit a rabbit!" Kurt sobs. "A poor, defenseless rabbit!" And from that second, Burt Hummel feels like he could walk on water if he had to. Like he won the lottery, and the Super Bowl, and the Indy 500. He almost laughs out loud with relief, but Kurt, still horrified, continues to run through his weepy explanation. "You should have seen it! It was white and fluffy, with a twitchy pink nose. It just…ran out in front of me, and I…I didn't know what to do! I panicked! I didn't know whether to slam on my brakes or swerve. They tell you not to swerve in driver's ed. They say it's dangerous. So, I took my foot off the gas, thinking I would slow down and it would run away, but it didn't. At the last moment, it just sat there in the middle of the road and stared at me…pleading with me to not hit it with terror in its big, black eyes."
Burt wants to reassure his son that everything is okay, but when he opens his mouth to say those very words, he snorts.
"Dad! It's not funny!"
Kurt, Burt thinks, you have no idea.
"Kurt, it's okay," Burt says with a chuckle. "I've hit so many animals driving, I've lost count. It happens to everyone."
"But…I didn't want it to happen to me! I don't want to be an animal killer!"
"Kurt, you eat chicken and fish. Those are animals. Plus, you have that wool jacket with a hood that's lined in fur. And I'm pretty sure you said it's rabbit."
"B-but I didn't personally kill those!"
"If you bought 'em or ate 'em, ya kinda did," Burt points out. "Supply and demand, son. You keep buyin' it, someone's gonna keep killing it."
"Dad!" Kurt squeals, disgusted. "You're not helping!"
"I know, I know," Burt says, not even trying not to laugh. "But it's okay, Kurt. I promise, it's okay."
"It's not okay, Dad!" Kurt shakes his head. "How am I going to drive again? I'll be afraid every time I turn down a dark street that I'm going to run something over."
"You're supposed to, in a sense," Burt says. "That's part of the responsibility of driving – staying aware of your surroundings and being cautious. Keeping an eye out for the things that might jump out at you unexpectedly. Sure you might hit a rabbit, or a raccoon. Hell, you might accidentally run over someone's cat…" Kurt whimpers "…but the day you slam your brakes and avoid hitting someone else's kid, it'll all equal itself out."
Kurt sighs. He was really hoping to hear something else, like that there was something he could attach to his Navigator that would shoo the bunnies away before he hits them, but what his dad said was as good an explanation as any. "I guess so, but it doesn't make me feel much better."
"I'm sorry. I don't have anything else for you. We share the planet with these animals, and if you're gonna drive a 6,000 pound vehicle, a few of them are gonna to die. That's just the way it goes. But if you want to avoid hitting rabbits, I suggest staying out of places with a lot of trees or bushes by the side of the road. Avoid the backstreets. Stick to the main ones. You don't see as many there."
"That makes sense." Kurt grabs another tissue and blows his nose. "Thanks, Dad."
"You're welcome. Just do me a favor? The next time something bothers you this much, can you come to me? You nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Yeah, Dad," Kurt says, more relaxed. "I will. I'm sorry if I worried you."
"That's alright. That's what dads are here for. To worry about their kids." Burt gives Kurt a clap on the back. "And hey, we still have time for some dinner if you want to come down and help me make it."
"That sounds like a plan. Just let me get cleaned up."
"Alright," Burt says, heading for the door, "just don't take too long."
"I won't."
Burt gets to the door and stops. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. Not after the night his son has had. But he can't help himself. And in a way, Kurt deserves it after what he put his father through.
"One last thing Kurt…"
"Yeah, Dad?"
"If you hit anymore rabbits, would you do something for me?"
Kurt looks confused. He thought that subject was over. "Yeah?"
"Pull the SUV over…"
"Yeah…?"
"Carefully pick the poor animal up…"
"Yes…?"
"And bring it home! We'll cook it up!"
Kurt gasps, horrified, breath hitching like he's about to hurl. "Dad!"
"I'm just kidding, kiddo…but no, really, do you know how much money we could be saving on meat?"
"Dad!"
"Ooo! And if you see a deer, doesn't matter if it's in front of you or not, just speed up and ram the damn thing! We'll eat like kings!"