Chapter 1: Why Kurt Hates Tuesdays
Disclaimer: I do not Glee. I am only borrowing the characters, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.
"The fundament of a superhero is the guy in tights saving innocent people from bad things. It's amazing how infrequently that seems to happen in superhero comics these days."— Frank Miller
The world as Kurt knows it ends on a Tuesday, which is kind of sad because Kurt has always liked Tuesdays (almost a whole week ahead of you, but without the gloom of Monday, but he digresses). And it isn't one of those, "when he woke up, he had no idea that this day was going to change him forever" things that comic book writers seem to prefer, because for Kurt, the fact that today was going to change everything was pretty much evident the second he woke up (from an excellent dream involving a shirtless George Clooney).
Four feet above his bed.
Later, he'll deny that the scream that he let out, but in an extremely fleeting moment of self honesty brought on likely by shock, Kurt will freely admit that he did scream, like a little girl, and then promptly plummeted back into the bed. Which in turn broke, like it was made of balsa wood and held together by Elmer's glue, with actual wood shards flying across him room to land on his beanbag chair and a cloud of sawdust floating up around him.
Nothing happens for a moment, and the silence is almost oppressive, where Kurt's mind tries desperately to process what the fuck just happened. "Does Not Compute" is pretty much the only thing that Kurt's brain can come up with because what the fuck he was floating and oh my god he's floating again and what the hell is happening to him!
This of course (because the universe hates him) is the scene that his father bursts in on; bed smashed to a million pieces and Kurt floating (floating! What the fuck!) in the middle of the room with what he is sure is a terrified look on his face. Burt, to his credit (and Kurt thinks he might deserve a medal for this) simply, after a moment where his eyes get really wide, steps slowly into the room and says with a steady voice, "Kurt, do you think you can come down?"
It's probably the surrealism of the moment more than anything else that gives him the will to come down; he takes that one moment of complete bizarre calmness and concentrates; thinks down, and then just for good measure, please, please down. And since apparently mind numbing panic and flying don't mix apparently he actually does manage to come down (the landing is a bit shaky but Kurt isn't going to dwell on that). It takes him a second for the fact that he's back on land to actually set in, and once it finally does he finds himself unable to do more than stare at his father, who in turn is staring back at him, eyes almost impossibly wide now.
"Dad…" he starts and then stops helplessly, because he has no idea what to say, hell what to think next. But his father, his amazing father seems to know as he simply opens his arms.
"It's going to be ok. We'll figure this out," his father says, in that same tone that he'd used, when after weeks of trying to work up enough courage to tell his father he was gay he'd just blurted it out and his father had told him, "I've known since you were three," as if it wasn't a big deal, because Kurt was his son and no matter what happened nothing was going to change that. And Kurt can't help but throw himself into his father's open arms and sob, because he woke up flying and his father still accepts him and as he feels his father's arms wrap around him he knows how lucky he is.
Kurt, like any other person with a pulse, realizes he implied jinx that accompanies the phrases "a least it can't get any worse." It's like a dare to the cosmos to screw you even further and because fate is a nasty bitch, you usually end up getting what you wish. But he's had a bit (understatement of the century) of a shock this morning, and so after he and his father have a very awkward conversation along the lines of "so flying…how long has that been going on?" like a moron Kurt makes the mistake of thinking, 'at least it can't get any worse.'
And then he goes into the garage to help his father and yeah.
It gets worse.
See the things is, although Kurt is pretty much a walking gay cliché and totally fine with that, he's also Burt Hummel's son, and so he also loves cars. Specifically, he loves fixing cars. It's the only activity where he will voluntarily mar his skin with something as heinous as grease or oil, and there's just something therapeutic about fixing cars. Kurt thinks it's because cars make sense; there is a specific problem and a specific way to fix it, and that kind of certainty can be comforting, especially since life isn't like that.
Needless to say, with the morning he's had so far, a little bit of certainty is something that he needs desperately right now, and so he goes into the garage to help his father fix one of the cars that came in yesterday. The car is gorgeous; a little yellow corvette convertible that he's definitely going to look into getting once he's rich and famous, but there is something wrong with the under carriage and that's how it ends up on the lift with his father and him under it. Everything is wonderfully, wonderfully normal for a while; his father and he scouring the undercarriage for the problem, and the painful normalcy is like balm for his soul.
Naturally though, because on the off chance there is a god, He hates him, it's then when everything that goes to hell.
It happens in a split second; one second he's just looking at his father and then there's this horrible sound, a screech of metal and in that second he realizes that the lift has crumpled and the car is coming down and all he can think is, please, not his father and then….
Nothing.
There's no pain, no blackness, no scream from his father, just the slightest weight on his arms. And then he looks at his father who is staring at him with eyes so wide their nearly saucers and he realizes why they aren't dead.
He's holding the car up.
Holding. The. Car. Up.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!
"Kurt you need to calm down," his father says in that too calm tone and Kurt is almost unaware of what his father is talking about until he realizes that he's breathing to fast, nearly hyperventilating and the car is wobbling ominously in his arms.
"Deep breaths," Burt says calmly as he slowly slides backwards, out of the way of the car. "Can you put it down son?" He asks, and then, as an afterthought, "Gently, if possible. It might be hard to explain the damage to the owner."
It manages to surprise a laugh out of him, and riding on that feeling he pulls his thoughts away from the sense of rising hysteria that has been threatening to overwhelm him he marshals his concentration and manages to bring the car down to the ground (gently even). Once the car is on the ground his father comes closer slowly, his arms outstretched again, and although there is nothing that Kurt would rather do than burry himself in his father's arms, Kurt shakes his head viciously.
"I can't dad. I don't know how strong I am; I might crush you."
Burt looks wounded for a second before he nods and lowers his arms, jams his hands in his pockets in a move that Kurt knows indicates frustration. "Son…" Burt starts, and then trails off, and Kurt can't help but know how he feels because hey, four hours into the most surreal day of his existence and he's discovered three things: his skin is practically invulnerable (his hand went through the undercarriage-oops-and there isn't a scratch on it), he's freakishly strong, and he woke up floating this morning. Kurt suddenly has the strongest urge to ask his father if he's hiding a spaceship in the storm cellar (not that they have a storm cellar but, you know).
"We'll be ok," is what Kurt says to his father instead, even as his mind whispers all the ways that they might not be, and it's not really a question but not really a statement either. It just simply is, because he and his father always have been, and Burt nods in response, before saying, his tone absolute, almost daring anyone to say otherwise, "Of course we will."
The rest of the day is surprisingly quiet; after the incident with the car Kurt decides it might be best if he just goes inside and does something innocent like sit his hands, and his father stays in the garage and cleans up the damage that has occurred. The exceedingly hot guy that Kurt has been flirting with for a week and a half at school calls asking him out and Kurt, almost on autopilot, tells him that he's sick but that if he can wait he'll make it worth his while and then hangs up before he can get caught up in all the new reasons why that might not be possible. Dinner is a quiet affair as well; Kurt makes vegetarian pasta and says nothing when he accidently sticks his hand on a red hot burner and his skin doesn't burn. After dinner Kurt reads the new Vogue while his father watches football and they both, just for a moment, try to ignore the brand new elephant in the room. Kurt knows it probably isn't the healthiest way to deal with it, but right now he just wants to get through today without any more surprises and so right now, this works for him.
Naturally though, because someone, somewhere clearly hates him, he doesn't end up getting his wish. The whole swimming in denial thing works really well until almost quarter to midnight (still fucking Tuesday) when Kurt is in his pyjamas but has just started his skincare regime (it's a time intensive process) when he hears footsteps downstairs. And not his father's, 'I'm being sneaky and going for that last slice of cheesecake,' footsteps that Kurt always pretends that he doesn't hear, but loud, heavy, steel toed boot (he knows his footwear) footsteps that he's pretty sure belong to very big guys.
He's only got about a second to process that before his door is kicked off its hinges and his room is flooded with people. Really, really large people decked out like G.I Joe's on steroids wearing massive steel toed boots (he said he knew his footwear) and all holding guns. Really, really large guns. His father flies in only a second later, his robe hurriedly fastened and his shotgun cocked at the only guy that doesn't seem to have a gun (and who, Kurt notices rather slowly, not only is a great deal smaller than the other guys but is also using way too much gel in his hair).
"I'd really like to know," his father says as intimidatingly as he can manage (Kurt appreciates the effort but it's totally a lost cause because these guys look like they eat scary for breakfast and laugh at fear), "What the hell you are all doing in my house!"
Gel guy turns slowly towards his father at that and says, in a calm, reassuring voice, "We aren't here to hurt you or your son Mr. Hummel."
His father is unmoved by that, but despite the surrealism of this little drama in front of him Kurt tunes it all out for a second so he can think. He's about a buck twenty when he's soaking wet, totally unarmed (and let's not forget flamingly gay) and although his father is the one who has the shotgun pointed at the skinny guy surrounded by the army of seriously butch guys with guns, said guys eyes never leave him. Therefore, Kurt figures it isn't a huge intuitive leap to guess that these guys know what he can do (which, when he thinks about it later will be impressive because about 14 hours sooner and they would have known about it before him); it also isn't a huge leap to guess that these guys are military (because hello, they're built like tanks, armed to the teeth and look like they haven't laughed in years).
"You're here to take me somewhere, aren't you?" He says slowly, and at any other time it might be funny to watch the way how all the eyes focus on him like they've just realized he can speak, but it isn't and so he continues, "Some facility right?"
"Yes. But…" the skinny guy says, but Kurt cuts him off before he can continue.
"Can wherever you're going to take me help me?" He asks, voice admirably level, and he directs the question to the guy his father is pointing the gun at (because he seems to be in charge and he figures that, out of all of them, this guy has the best motivation not to lie).
"We'll try," the guy says earnestly, and raises his hands in the universal 'I am not a threat please don't break me' motion. "I can't make any promises that we'll figure out the cause, but I promise that we'll do everything we can to help you manage this."
Kurt appreciates the honesty; a solid "yes we will save you and without us you will die" he probably wouldn't have believed, but this he does. And the truth is, he does need someone's help; his dad might have been all be needed to deal with the being gay thing, but he thinks that this is beyond even his father's skills (impressive as they are). He's terrified of spending his whole life as some crazy lab experiment or accidentally hurting someone; of hugging his father and breaking his spine by accident and he needs someone to teach him how to manage that. And yes, it's possible that these guys might not be his best option, but right now they're the only one he's got and so beggars can't be choosers.
"I'll go with you," he tells the skinny guy, and ignores the sound of protest that his father makes, "but you have to promise me that you'll leave my father out of this."
"Kurt," his father protests, and Kurt turns to look at him, before speaking. "No dad. I need help, and if these guys can help me then this is what's best."
His father makes another gesture of protest, and Kurt smiles sadly before he draws up all of the bravery he can muster and says, "I'll be ok, dad. I always am."
His father scowls furiously for a moment before he slowly lowers the gun, and looks Kurt directly in the eye. "I trust you, son" he says, and then, for what Kurt is pretty sure is just effect (because these guys make The Rock look like a four foot tall skinny weakling) glares at the military guys for a moment.
Kurt is brought back into the moment by the skinny guy with too much gel in his hair as he moves closer and nods to two of the Hulk's discreetly and says, "Look, I'm really sorry about this." Kurt's confused for about a second and a half until he notices that one Hulk has moved to block his father and that the nearest hulk has pulled out a white cloth, and then there is pressure as it's moved (relatively) gently across his mouth and nose.
Then everything fades to blackness.
A/N: Dun, dun, dun…Next up, Chapter 2: Camp "The Government Just Kidnapped Me," where we meet the rest of the super powered gleeks and form the team (where the real fun begins). Also, apologies all around as this story is going to take forever because I'm doing MCAT prep, but I'll try to keep posting stuff. As always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.