Takes place before the events of Glee. I may turn this into a series of oneshots. I've decided to go with the original statement made by Kurt in "Ballads" that his mom died when he was 6.
Disclaimer: I do not own or plan to make money off of Glee or any of it's characters.
I never realized just how amazing it is to receive reviews from people who have read your work. Thank you so much to those of you who left comments!
Also, I am on the lookout for a Beta reader.
xxx
Burt Hummel was not a huggy feely type of guy. He didn't go goopy over puppies, didn't find babies all that adorable(actually they were disgusting), and he never ever cried at movies.
But ask anybody and they could tell you, without a moment's hesitation, just what could penetrate that shell of manliness that surrounded him like a suit of armor. Actually, it was more of a who. A who that was all wide eyes, a precious pout, and tiny tiny hands wrapped into a bundle that was Kurt Hummel. To anyone else, Burt was a perfect example of a man's man, but when it came to his son, Burt was more than willing to drop anything and do anything to put a brilliant smile on that elfin face. Even if that included less than masculine tea parties or a dress up date that will never ever be mentioned.
So when six year old Kurt came barreling down the hallway screaming at the top of his lungs, Burt put down his copy of In-Fishing and gave his son his undivided attention.
"Daddy!Daddy!" Kurt skidded to a stop, socked feet sliding on the polished wood floor. His little boy scampered onto Burt's lap and presented a bright orange flier. "Look Daddy! My troop's gonna have a sleepover! A real sleepover, just like in the movies! And they're gonna roast marshmallows and sing songs and everything! Can I go Daddy? Please? Please? Please? Can I go?"
Burt looked down at the colorful flier, reading that indeed the Bumblebee Troop had a planned sleepover two weeks from now and if the hopeful, determined look on his son's face was anything to go by, Burt would be sending him off to the sleepover some time in the near future.
"Sure buddy, of course you can go." Burt grinned seeing the look of triumph in Kurt's eyes. His son was something else.
"Yes!" Kurt hopped off of his father's lap and twirled in triumph, "My first sleepover ever! It's gonna be great!" He stopped spinning and looked up at his father, dark lashes fluttering, "And maybe? I need a sleeping bag too?"
Burt laughed, reaching out to ruffle his son's hair.
"Sure kid."
"Alright! And new pajamas! And slippers! And, oh a flashlight! And can my pajamas be pink Daddy?"
"Of course."
They ended up filling the trunk of their car with sleepover essentials. Somehow Burt had been suckered into purchasing a mini tent for his son, who had insisted that a tent at an indoor sleepover was pretty much a necessity.
In spite of the huge bill, Burt was pleased that his son seemed to be enjoying his time with the Bumblebees. Kurt had been hesitant at first, and Burt didn't blame him. Kurt was a special little boy, affectionate and kind, but he struggled at making friends. Hoping to expose his son to other children his age, Burt had enrolled him in the Bumblebee program, which was sort of like boy scouts without so much emphasis on the outdoors stuff.
Thankfully, his son had talked his ear off after the first meeting, talking about art projects and glitter and his new "bestest friend ever", Jordan.
For weeks all Burt would hear was:
"Jordan says that kittens don't open their eyes right away!"
And
"Jordan says that pink is the best color ever!"
But Burt had been pleased that his son seemed to fit in so well with the other troops and that he had found a new little friend. He had actually planned on telling Kurt to invite the other little boy over to a sleepover of their own, but it looked like that would now have to wait until later.
xxx
Kurt was excited. Not just a little excited. Super duper duper duper duper duper duper-and if he could add a million dupers, he would-excited.
When his dad had first mentioned joining the Bumblebees it had definitely not sounded like a fun idea. He'd seen lots of movies where troops did things like went on hikes or dug through dirt and that did not sound like fun to Kurt. It sounded messy.
But on his first day there he had made a brand new friend!
Jordan was six years old, just like Kurt was. And she had a mommy, but not a daddy. And her cat had just had kittens. And most importantly, they both thought the color pink was the bestest ever!
Jordan was his best friend, but they didn't always get to do things together and that made Kurt sad. The scout leaders said that this was because Jordan was a girl and Kurt was a boy, but that didn't make sense to Kurt, because they both liked to do the same things so what did it matter?
But the scout leaders didn't listen when Kurt said he didn't want to make model airplanes with the boys and they definitely didn't listen when he insisted that he wanted to be a princess for dress up day. In the end it wasn't too bad though, because he had Jordan and they always got to play together during art time and singing time and game time. And if the adults sometimes gave him funny looks, well that didn't matter so much to Kurt, because he was used to getting funny looks from adults and sometimes other children too.
Now there was a sleepover and he and Jordan had pinkie promised that they would put their sleeping bags right next to each other and maybe hold hands too if the older kids decided to tell scary stories, not because they were scared or anything, but because they were bestest friends ever.
So yes.
Kurt was ultra super duper excited.
Super duper.
xxx
Burt was just finishing rotating the last tire on a 2003 Toyota Corrolla, when the blue minivan pulled up into the shop. It was large and roomy, just the thing any mother would envy, so he wasn't surprised when a brunette woman, with the words "soccer mom" written all over her, exited the car. He was surprised, however, when two other women with the same- I'm really involved in my kid's lives- look, also emerged.
"Excuse me, Mr. Hummel?" The first lady said. She held out her hand and then seemed to hesitate, probably noticing the grease stains on his hands, "Ah, I'm Mrs. Johnston. This is Mrs. Walker and Mrs. Abelton." She gestured to the two other ladies standing behind her.
Burt nodded politely, reaching for a tattered rag to wipe excess grease off his hands.
"How can I help you ladies." he said. The name Johnston seemed vaguely familiar to him and he wondered briefly where he had heard it before.
"Well," Mrs. Johnston said, seeming a little self conscious, "We're here to talk about your boy. Kurt Hummel?"
"Kurt?" Burt frowned. As far as he knew, Kurt was safely in school learning his abc's or whatever else they taught them in first grade. "What about him? Is he okay?"
"Oh fine! Fine!" Mrs. Johnston waved off his concern with a manicured hand, "It's. Well, He's in our troop. You know, the Bumblebees. I'm Jordan's mother and the troop leader."
Oh that's right. Burt remembered reading the woman's name off the flier.
"Right." Burt said, "Hey thanks for organizing that thing. Kurt loves it. And he's real good friend with your daughter. I've heard nothing but good things from Kurt's side. He isn't getting into trouble is he?"
"Ah, Well it's not that so much." Mrs. Johnston stuttered, "It's well...the sleepover."
"Yeah, he's real excited about that. Been talking about it for weeks. Say are you three looking for help with the whole thing, because I'd be glad to contribute in any way I can. Not much a garage can offer I think, but maybe I can provide some donuts or something?"
Burt grinned at the them, expecting a smile in return. Instead the three ladies sent each other uncomfortable looks. Immediately, Burt felt the tension in the air.
This was not good.
"Alright, out with it." he said, tone turning frosty. "Just tell me what you came here to say."
The women looked even more ill at ease, but the ring leader, Mrs. Johnson, blurted it out.
"You're son can't come to the sleepover."
Burt was silent.
"He just can't." she continued, "Look it's not our place to get involved in how you raise that boy, but you have to see that he's not the same as others his age. He's different. I don't know. Maybe it's a lack of female attention. I've read that usually this sort of thing stems from mother issues, but either way he can't come to a sleepover with other little boys. It just wouldn't be right. And he certainly can't sleep with the little girls. It's out of the question. And if I were you," she leaned in closer, "I'd see about getting that boy some help or he may turn out...you know...like that."
"Get out."
Mrs. Johnston looked shocked. "Excuse me?" she said.
"Get the fuck out of my garage."
The three women looked stunned.
"Look lady, I don't know who in the hell you think you are coming in here and spouting that bullshit, but let me tell you something. My kid is the brightest, most loving, talented and intelligent little boy you're ever gonna have the privilege of meeting. And sure he's different. He's so fucking different it makes him the best and most special kid I know. And if you would just get off your high horse for just a second, you'd realize that he's just a little boy whose excited to go to a sleepover, with his friends. So get out of my garage! If there's people like you running that thing, I don't think he'll be attending any more of your meetings."
Mrs. Johnston's shock morphed into astonished rage. Her face darkened as she and her friends marched back to the car. She slammed the car door, but not before she called out one parting shot.
"You're ruining that boy, Mr. Hummel! He's going to grow up to be nothing but a filthy little fag and you'll have no one to blame but yourself!"
The minivan backed out of the garage and shot down the street, leaving a distinct smell of burnt rubber in the air.
Burt stood there for a moment, trembling with rage. How dare she. How dare that woman, who knew nothing about how amazing his son was, spout such grotesque words? He wanted to hit something. To hit somebody. But a moment later, he just wanted to cry.
Because he had no idea what he was going to tell Kurt.
xxx
After putting it off for a few days, Burt decided that he had better get it over with. While his son was playing tea party in his room, he set up the tent, rolled out two sleeping bags, set a bag of marshmallows near the stove, and popped in Kurt's favorite movie.
When he his son wandered upstairs he found his father sitting in the middle of a dark living room, surrounded by all the "camping" equipment.
"Daddy?" he asked softly, "Why're you sitting in the dark? And why's my tent up?"
Burt looked at Kurt, seeing nothing but his mother's soft eyes, and the childish expression on his face.
"Come're sport." he said, motioning to the spot beside him on the couch. Kurt obeyed, scrambling onto the couch and leaning on his father arm. "You know you're special, right Kurt?" Burt couldn't resist saying. "The most special and greatest kid."
His son just gave him a blank look.
"You're silly Daddy," Kurt said, after a moment, looking at the camping equipment spread out around the room. "Sleepover night's not till Saturday. That's five whole days away. I counted on the Calendar."
"Look sport." Burt said, unsure how he was ever going to get the words out, "I...um...I'm really sorry, kid but the Bumblebee thing isn't really working out."
"Huh?"
Burt saw the hesitant expression on his son's face and just couldn't bring himself to do it. How could he tell this little boy that the night he'd been looking forward and planned for would not be happen? And that while all the other boys and girls were more than welcome, Kurt himself was not. That this probably wouldn't be the last time something like this would happen, that it would probably be like this for the rest of his life? Because the world was full of idiots and bigots and god how could he ever have been anything like those people?
So instead Burt hugged his son tight and said, "Sorry Kurt, there aren't going to be anymore Bumblebees. The troop's not meeting anymore and the sleepover's been canceled. Jordan and her mom had to go out of state for a while, to visit their grandmother. I'm not sure how long they're going to be gone."
Kurt's eyes immediately filled with tears. "But Daddy," he said, voice trembling, "Jordan's my best friend."
"I know kid, I'm sorry."
"She's my bestest friend ever." Kurt said and then dissolved into tears.
So Burt held his son, while Kurt cried, hating that he couldn't protect him from all the hurt in the world, but relieved that at least Kurt didn't know the real truth about why he wouldn't be attending the meetings or seeing his best friend anymore.
Later, when Kurt's sobs had dissolved into sniffles and the tears had dried up, Burt helped his son into his new pink pajamas. They toasted marshmallows on the stove, snuggled into their sleeping bags, and watched Kurt's favorite movie twice.
And if the sleeping bags were a little scratchy and the tent too small to really fit a grown man, well that was okay, because Burt was there for his son and he a swore he always would be.
"When you're different...when you're special...sometimes you have to get used to being alone." Kurt Hummel, Duets.