When Burt walked by Kurt's bedroom, he knew something was wrong. Kurt always kept his room in meticulous order, especially the bed. Today-at 4:30 in the afternoon, the bed was a mass of cashmere blankets, designer sheets, and fluffy pillows. There was some song on repeat, something about comets pulled from orbit, and seeds meeting skybirds. Whatever it was, Burt was baffled by it. Actually, he was baffled by the whole situation.
Just as Burt was about to leave, and maybe talk to Carole, who was a whole lot better at dealing with this stuff, the lump on the bed shifted. Burt realized that the lump was Kurt. He listened intently as his son sniffled, and watched as a hand darted out from under the covers to grab a box of tissues. Despite his concern, Burt had to smile. Even when he was obviously in the midst of some personal crisis, Kurt was never one to stain perfectly good fabric.
When another whimper came a few moments later, Burt summoned up his courage and knocked on the door. The lump stiffened, before shrinking back into an even tighter ball. "Kurt" the man called out as gently as he could "Buddy, it's me." Kurt let out a watery sigh.
"C-come in"
Burt Hummel entered the room gingerly, and sat down on his son's bed, carefully avoiding the pile he believed to be Kurt. "So….what's, um, the issue?" Burt regretted his word choice immediately, as Kurt progressed from whimpers to full out sobbing. Deciding that talking wasn't helping much, Burt started to rub his son's shaking back.
"Blaine…" Kurt's words immediately put Burt on defense.
"Did he hurt you? 'Cause if he did…" Burt's tone could only be described as aggressively loving.
Kurt paused to heave out a particularly heart-wrenching sob "No, Dad…I-I hurt him."
Burt couldn't hide his surprise. "You…what? Kurt, are you sure?" Burt didn't think that his sweet, innocent son could hurt anyone, emotionally or otherwise.
Finally, Kurt surfaced from his burrow of blankets. His usually flawless skin was pink and blotchy. His eyes were watery, and had a certain shade of pain to them that didn't surface often-not even when he was upset. "Yes, Dad." Kurt couldn't meet his father's eyes as he continued his story "We were going for a walk, while it was n-n-nice…and then it started to rain…"
Burt nodded, confused. "And?"
"And…He had an umbrella, I didn't." Kurt wiped his eyes "he kept on trying to give it to me. He couldn't cover us both, and…" Kurt had obviously reached the crucial point in his story, because he was crying again. Burt patted his son's shoulder, and settled in for another teary interlude, when Kurt spoke up. "I hold him to quit trying to be the strong, perfect, one, that he was no better than me, and that I could take care of myself. I called him a..." Kurt paused to breathe "A wanna-be asshole martyr. Then he just…looked at me and walked away."
Burt was thoroughly over-whelmed. Kurt had been a jerk, no doubt, but over an umbrella? That certainly didn't seem like his son, especially not if those feelings were directed towards Blaine. Did gay guys suffer from PMS? Carole got mad about stuff like that more often around her…time of the month…But those pamphlets hadn't said anything about PMS…damn, this was a mess….
Kurt broke his father's worries. "Dad…you're-you're blushing."
Feminine issues and his son's "stuff" were the two things that made Burt the most uncomfortable. Now they were combining. "I am?"
"Yes, you are."
"Oh, sorry. Just thinking."
It was Kurt's turn to look confused. "Okay…So what do I do? Did I blow it? How do I get him back?" The boy's voice quavered on his last question. "Dad, I need your help."
Burt nodded. His kid needed him, and he was damn well going to be there. "Well" he took a deep breath "Blaine is crazy about you, Kurt…if you apologize, he'll take you back in a second."
Kurt bit his lip, like he always did when he was deep in thought. "Really? Even after all that crap I gave him today?"
Burt nodded "Sure."
"So, how should I apologize?" Kurt had perked up slightly, and was sitting up now, bouncing on the bed a little. "Should I send flowers? Or maybe stage an apology sit-in!"
Burt interrupted his son's planning hurriedly, with visions of high credit card bills and restraining orders entering his head. "Ummm, Kurt I was thinking more along the lines of calling and apologizing…"
Kurt considered this for a split second before shaking his head, and leaping out of bed. "Dad, you are so uncreative! But I've got it now! I'm going to serenade Blaine! Outside his bedroom window!" Kurt noticed his father's blank look, and rolled his eyes. "Come on! You know, like in 'You Were Never Lovelier'? We watched that one together when I was 13, remember?" Kurt was now re-making his bed, and gathering sheet-music he had strewn on the floor. Burt breathed a sigh of relief when Kurt finally turned off that song.
"So you're okay now?" Burt checked one last time on his way upstairs.
Kurt smiled as he rifled through his CD collection, trying to pick the perfect song. "I'm great! Oh, and Dad? Ask Finn if he could help me get my keyboard into my car, will you? Oh, and which do you think is better: 'Forgive Me', you know, the one by Evansence, or 'Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word'?-that one's Elton, of course."
Burt Hummel could only nod as he walked up the stairs. "Either one would be great. I think." Damn, that kid recovered fast!
