I don't really know what I think of this (whether I hate it or love it), but please enjoy and please review! The song is This Is Our Town by We The Kings.
for so long these streets were my home
this is our town
where our roots have grown so deep
:-:
as the city sleeps the night
you found us hiding out
under parking garage lights
Burt Hummel met Katherine when they were both seventeen years old. He was the jock, the football player; she the class sweetheart.
The first time he saw her, Burt knew he was in love. With her long, brown hair and stunning blue-green eyes, she was without a doubt the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life. Though he had his impressive jock status and charming smile, it still took him half a semester to ask Katherine out.
Their first date started at the movie theater and ended in Burt's ragged, hand-patched car in the abandoned department store parking lot. From that moment on Burt knew he would marry her someday.
Graduation came too quickly, and the couple was torn apart. Burt went off to college on a football scholarship, and Katherine stayed in Lima, working in a diner by day, taking music classes at night. ("Now really, Burt. Who would want to leave this cow-town?" She would ask jokingly, but deep down, Burt could tell how upset she was that he was going away. He vowed to call her every day, and she promised to try to make it up for some of his games.)
"I want to be a choir director," she told Burt the night before he left as they sat in the bed of his truck, watching the stars with sad eyes. "Passing on the gift of music to kids, to the future generation… doesn't that sound nice?"
Burt wasn't much of music man himself, but he nodded and hummed in agreement, wrapping his arms tighter around his love.
That night she sang him a lullaby, one he would hear for years after that moment. When he returned to his dorm room after long, intense practices, the memory of that song would fill his mind, and suddenly he didn't feel so exhausted. When he woke up in the hospital after throwing out his knee and losing his scholarship, he heard it sung among the beeps of machinery and murmurs of nurses. And the night he returned to Lima, his hometown, the only town he had ever loved, he heard it again as Katherine greeted him with an embrace. He never knew the words, or even what it was called, but it was their song. It would always be their song.
and you know
you know you'll find us here
when we return
They married the year Burt would have graduated. The wedding was simple and beautiful, much like Katherine herself. They were young and in love, and the world seemed a very fair place.
Burt worked at the local auto shop and Katherine fulfilled her dream of teaching music by directing the children's choir at a nearby church. For six long, glorious years they followed that routine, kissing goodbye every morning and embracing hello every evening.
And then Kurt arrived.
If Katherine had been happy with her life before, she was tearful with ecstasy when she announced her pregnancy to Burt one evening when he returned home. They soon converted half of their room into a nursery ("No child of mine will sleep in the basement until they're old enough to drive!" Katherine had exclaimed. Burt just rolled his eyes, knowing fully well that their child would be sleeping down there much sooner that in sixteen years).
The day Kurt Hummel was born, it was raining outside. Burt took this as a bad omen, but Katherine just laughed, and told her husband that she loved the rain, and that is was a good sign. The baby was healthy and beautiful, if not small and frail-looking, and was taken home wrapped up in a bright red blanket ("It really is his color, don't you think Burt?")
That night as Kurt cried into the night, Katherine, held her son close and sang. Burt, who was half-asleep on the couch next to his wife, recognized it as their song. He smiled softly as she hummed the precious melody – now the song was Kurt's too.
as I gently close my eyes
I hear you whisper softly
as we continue our goodbyes
Kurt grew up happily and healthily, even if he was always smaller than the other boys. The Hummels were a blissful family, and it seemed like nothing could tear them apart.
Five days after her birthday, Katherine was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. She was given six months to live, at most.
When Burt Hummel first heard the news, he cried. For the first time that he could ever remember, he broke down and cried. Katherine had just held him and rocked him and told him not to be afraid. She wasn't. No, she was the brave one, the strong one. She had to be.
They didn't tell Kurt at first, but the eight-year-old was sharp and knew something was wrong. When his father sat him down and explained his mother's illness, the boy did not cry. He simply nodded and blinked, and told his father that he needed to be alone to think. It wasn't until Burt was gone from the room did Kurt allow himself to cry. Like his mother, he had to be strong. For mommy and daddy, Kurt Hummel had to be strong.
Near the end of her life, Katherine lived in the hospital. Burt and Kurt visited her everyday after school and work, bringing the beautiful woman flowers and tales from their mundane days. They would stay until Kurt fell asleep in his mother's arms, lulled to sleep by their song. It was during these times that Katherine and Burt would just sit together, never saying much except for the occasional, "I love you." There were no words for Burt's fear or pain, and there wasn't much Katherine could say to convey her strength unto her husband. Sitting was good, sitting was easy. Sitting was just being together, like when they had stolen from their houses late at night as kids and just watched the stars.
The last night Burt saw his wife alive, he was picking up his sleeping son when Katherine grabbed his wrist.
"Goodbye," she had whispered, and somehow, someway, Burt knew that it was for good.
The funeral was unbearable. Burt could not stop the tears; as hard as he tried to be brave for little Kurt, he couldn't stop crying. Kurt didn't cry as much as Burt (he was so strong, like his mother), but the moment that the eight-year-old set a flower on the cold, metal coffin, Burt knew his son would never be a child again.
this is our town
this is who we're meant to be
They left Lima that night. They didn't pack anything, just left. Lima, stupid, stupid Lima just held too many memories, too many places and people that reminded him of Katherine.
They ate dinner in a drive-in diner, and it wasn't long until Kurt passed out in the back seat. Burt sat with the window down and watched the sun set behind the hills, the hills that concealed Lima, and he realized that he could never leave his hometown, as much as it pained him to stay. He loved the damn town, and he couldn't see himself living anywhere else.
He drove them back that night, and after he tucked Kurt into bed, he sat on the couch, alone, a beer in hand. When he closed his eyes, Katherine was there, beside him on the couch, singing their song. And when he opened his eyes again, though Katherine was gone, her song was still there, lingering by his ears throughout the night.
this is our town
we'll keep coming back because...
"In the end, being different is what's going to get me out of this cow-town." Cow-town. Such a Katherine thing to say. Only, Kurt didn't mean it in an endearing way. No, he said cow-town with as much malice as he talked about the bullies at school.
Burt often wished Katherine was still alive, because Kurt needed a mother at the moment. Coming out at age sixteen was hard enough, but to do it in Lima, Ohio was like climbing Mount Everest.
When things got rough for Kurt and his sexuality, Burt often wondered why he was still so in love with the town that tortured his son. Lima was the only home he had ever known, true, but couldn't Kurt say the same thing?
Maybe it was because Katherine was in Lima. Her body, her spirit, her everything lingered in the town, holding Burt there. But Kurt, brave, strong, little Kurt – he had so much of his mother inside of him. He could leave this shit-hole town and never look back.
all I ask is that you'll be here
when I return
The day Kurt left for college was possibly one of the hardest for Burt Hummel. His son was off to New York, off to study music (so much like his mother, really) and theater, off to start a new life where people would really accept him, and all Burt could do was try not to cry.
Kurt hoisted his designer bag onto his shoulder, ID and boarding pass out as they neared security. Burt just swallowed, pushing back tears.
"Well, goodbye," Kurt said, a sad smile on his lips. Burt felt his eyes well up, and he threw his arms around the small boy, as if to hold him there and never let him leave. Kurt returned the embrace, humming under his breath.
Their song. Their song.
Kurt had her eyes, he had her hair, he had her strength, her beauty, her bravery, her song, her everything. Kurt was so much like his mother that it was like she had never died, had never left Burt on his own.
The small boy broke away from the hug after a minute, told Burt he loved him, and walked through security, off on a new adventure far, far away. Burt finally let the tears fall as he shuffled out of the airport, back to his car. Watching Kurt leave the town, leave Lima (stupid, stupid Lima), with all of his mother's traits and beauty and strength and everything, was as hard as watching Katherine die again.
"But he'll be back one day," Burt whispered to himself as he drove back into the Lima city limits. "He'll come back."