The next days are spent at the hospital by his mothers bed, holding her hand or stroking her hair. Crying. There's lots of crying. At least in the beginning. Now he just feels more numb than anything. Dissociated. Like he can't truly comprehend the seriousness of the situation or the fact that his mother's unmoving on a hospital bed. And she isn't getting better. In fact she's getting worse and Kurt knows exactly what that means.
He has seen his father talking to his mothers doctor with tear-filled eyes and knows it's just a matter of time. And when his father finally sits down and tells him the truth, one hand on Kurts shoulder, Kurt doesn't cry. He thinks that the knowledge that his mother probably won't make it through the weekend should evoke some feeling from him, but it doesn't. Instead he keeps thinking of other things. Like how awkward it will be to return to school after the holidays and finally see his friends again only to tell them his mother's dead. Or what he'll do now, when he answers the phone and the person on the other end confuses him for his mother. He can almost imagine the conversation; "No, she's dead. This is her son." He almost laughs out loud at that, but manages to control himself. Instead he feels silently grateful for the feeling of detachment and pats his fathers hand awkwardly as the older man cries.
Kurt dislikes the hospital. In fact he would almost go as far as to say he hates it. He hates the white walls and the nice nurses, but most of all he hates the smell. It smells disinfectant, yes, but in his mothers room there also a slightly sweet, nauseous smell of illness. He'd tried smelling his mother once, lying almost on top of her pressing his nose into her neck, and it had smelled nothing like her. It's like the hospital had taken everything away from her; her dignity, her home, her family and even something as mundane as her smell.
Still, as much as Kurt hates the hospital, the time spent at home with his father, just the two of them, is even worse.
Whenever Burt isn't crying or talking about his wife, he spends hours drinking staring blankly at the television. He barely even looks at Kurt anymore aside from the occasional comforting gesture and Kurt comes to the realization that he doesn't really know how to talk to his dad. Not without his mother there. She had been the one thing bringing them together, Kurt and Burt not really having anything in common, and now that they were losing her their relationship was falling apart.
The only positive thing with this new development is the fact that his father is too distracted to make dinner, usually ordering some junk food and leaving Kurt to fend for himself. So while his father is drinking himself into a stupor Kurt is dealing with his anxiety in a much more healthy and effective manner. His plans of dieting has been going great so far. Not only does it keep his mind occupied, it's helping him lose weight as well. It was a win/win situation.
Kurts diet so far consisted on eating low carb food and keeping his calorie intake to maximum a 1000 a day. Hopefully less than that. Kurt had even bought himself a notebook where he kept tabs on how much he was eating in terms of calories as well as his weight and BMI. At 116 pounds Kurt had a BMI of 27 wich put him in the "overweight" category and he was determined to get down to at least 90 pounds. He could start eating more again when his body was down to a more healthy weight, but for now skipping his meals was the most effective way to go. Not too mention, with his father not paying him any attention it was easy to go the day without eating much at all. The last two days Kurt had managed to keep his calories to 429 and 687, meaning he had only eaten 1116 calories in two days which was quite the achievement. Kurt was also starting to notice that not eating was surprisingly easy once you came into the right rhythm. It was almost soothing, and Kurt felt more in control of his feelings now than he had ever done before.
"Fuck!"
Kurt is pulled out of his thoughts by his fathers cursing and quickly puts the notebook in his drawer before jumping up the stairs leading up from his basement. He follows the sound of his fathers cursing and finds him in the kitchen, surrounded by shattered pieces of glass. The older man is leaning against the counter-top holding a bleeding hand to his chest, still cursing silently. Kurt enters the kitchen while carefully avoiding the splintered pieces of glass.
"Dad? Are you all right?"
No answer. Kurt frowns a little, worried, moving even closer to his father.
"Does it hurt?"
It's a dumb question, he knows, but he's desperate for a little attention. Just some acknowledgment that the older man has heard him. However, his father is steadfastly ignoring him and Kurt hesitantly places a hand on his fathers shoulder, close enough now to feel the alcohol in his breath. Kurt expects his father too look at him, and maybe to be a little annoyed but the reaction he gets makes Kurt wish his father had ignored him instead as he is pushed away harshly, stumbling as he tries to regain his balance.
"Dad?"
That, apparently, is all it takes for Burt Hummel to snap. A broken glass, a bleeding hand and the pitying eyes of his son and weeks of worry is manifesting itself into something ugly and destructive. Kurt just stands there, stunned into silence, the feeling of broken glass digging into his bare feet.
"Do I look like I'm fucking okay to you?"
His fathers words are heavy with alcohol and Kurt covers, backing away.
"Does it hurt?" Burts voice is high in a cruel parody of Kurt's previous question and Kurt feels sick.
"Of course it fucking hurts! You're thirteen, stop asking such stupid questions. My wife is in the hospital dying, of course I'm not fucking okay!" His father is getting more and more worked up and Kurt just stands there, helpless, trying to ignore the steady pressure building behind his eyes. How did it even turn out like this? What was he supposed to do when his father was bleeding in the kitchen? Ignore it? Usually his mother would deal with it, but now that she was gone Kurt seemed to be taking over most of her chores and it had seemed like the right thing to do.
Before he can formulate a reply, however, the phone is ringing, breaking the dangerous atmosphere, and Kurt has never been more relieved. Burt seems stunned for a moment, looking at Kurt with an expression he can't quite decipher, before running off to answer murmuring at Kurt to clean up the mess.
Kurt stands there for a second, just breathing in deep, before heaving himself up on the kitchen counter to free his throbbing feet of the pressure. He cradles his foot in his hand trying to pull out the glass without hurting himself further. However, without anything but his shaking hands to aid him with the tiny pieces, it's a long process and he is still sitting there when his father reenters the kitchen. For a second, Kurt is scared and ready to explain why he hasn't cleaned up the pieces yet, but the look on his fathers face stops him. There is nothing of the previous rage left and Burt suddenly looks more tired than anything. Sad. He takes one look at Kurts feet and closes his eyes breathing out heavily.
"Kurt.. I.. Did I do that?" Kurt stays silent, not sure what to say, but Burt doesn't seem to expect an answer anyway. He strides over the glass putting a gentle hand on Kurts shoulder, his expression screaming remorse.
"I'm so sorry; Kurt. I-I.. I was just really stressed out and I took it out on you… I mean, that's no excuse.. I just.." His father looks ready to cry and Kurt almost wishes he was angry again because he doesn't know how to deal with this. After a few second of silence, Kurt realizes he should probably say something and tries to sound as forgiving and reassuring as possible.
"It's o-okay. I know you didn't mean it." His father still doesn't seem pleased, though, and Kurt desperately tries to change the subject.
"So what was that call about? Was it the hospital?" It takes Kurt approximately a nano-second to realize that if he wanted his father to stop being sad, talking about that phone call was the worst thing he could have possible done. His fathers face had gone from being remorseful to full out devastated and Kurt could feel his chest tightening.
"Dad? Is it mom? Is she..?" Burt stays silent before patting him on the shoulder;
"Lets go to the living room.. Are you okay to walk?" Burt is gesturing at his feet, the look of regret back on his face. Kurt ignores the fact that his father didn't actually answer his question before shaking his head slightly.
"I'm not sure.. "
It's the truth. His feet is throbbing and he is scared that walking will press the glass further into his flesh making it even harder to remove later. His father seems to be contemplating something for a minute, before he grabs Kurt and promptly lifts him up into Burts arms.
"I'll just have to carry you then"
Kurt is shocked for a brief moment before throwing his arms around his fathers shoulders when he starts moving. He would never admit it but after all the distance between them and their recent fight, being close to his father like this feels really good. It kind of feels like it used to. Back when his mother was healthy and Burt had been this big, unmovable rock. Back when he still thought his father was invincible and somehow not human. Back when he thought his mother would live forever. Back when he still felt he was special and beautiful because his parents said so. It suddenly seemed like such a long time ago. Seemed naïve.
They finally reached the living-room and he squeaked a bit as his father not-so-gently dropped him on the sofa. Burt stretched his arms out once, laughing a little.
"Wheew! You've definitely put on some weight since last time I carried you around like this! I remember when you were so tiny I could carry you on one arm! Now I can barely lift you from one room to another.."
His father his smiling sadly, nostalgia painting his face and Kurt tries to smile back. He really does. It's just that the comment stings. It feels like a punch in the stomach, because it's true. He used to be skinny and he can't remember when he became such a glutton. When he started to let food control him. Kurt wants to be skinny again. When he gets a boyfriend he doesn't want to be the ugly, fat one in their relationship. He wants his boyfriend to be able to carry him to bed without wheezing like he's just ran a marathon. If he can even lift Kurt at all. Now, Kurt isn't stupid. He may be fat, but he's not stupid. He understands that his father didn't say it to be mean. On the contrary he had said it to lighten the athmosphere and clear the air between them which is why Kurt says nothing and smiles.
After a moment of silence Burts face goes serious again and Kurt can feel the couch dip as his father sits down next to him. This is it. He just knows it. This is the moment where his life changes forever. Out of the corner of his eye he can see his father shifting slightly and he is close enough to hear the hitch in his breath when Burt speaks.
"Kurt. Your mother.. Theresa.. She" He pauses for a second and Kurt almost laughs at how dramatic it seems. Almost. He feels detached again. Lost.
"She passed away."
