Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.
"So there's nothing we can do?" Burt said, dismayed.
"Well, not completely nothing," Carole said. "We can do what we can, but at the end of the day, we can't force CPS to do anything."
Burt sat back in his chair, defeated. "You should've seen this woman, Carole," he said. "She just breezed through the house, took one look at Kurt, and left. She didn't even listen when I tried to tell her about the belt." He took off his baseball cap and ran his hand over his head. "I just can't understand it."
"Kids in the system fall through the cracks all the time," Carole said. She sighed. "And eventually he'll be out of the system and returned his mother."
"I don't want him going back there," Burt said. "He's terrified of his mom, and I don't want him to be stuck there."
"She's his mother," Carole said quietly. "It's incredibly hard to have a child removed from their biological family."
"Well, then what can I do?" Burt demanded. "There's got to be something."
"Keep pushing the social worker to investigate Kurt's home," Carole said. "And take notes. Write everything down. Every incident, every offhand comment that sends up a red flag. Date everything. The more you have, the more the social worker will have to work with."
"I can do that," Burt said. He dropped his baseball cap on his desk. "I can't thank you enough for helping me with this. I just…god, Carole, this is so damn frustrating."
"I know," she said, reaching across the desk to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "But you're doing so well with him. Ending up in your home is probably the best thing that could've happened to him."
Burt smiled ruefully. "He belongs in a real family with a mom and a dad, not some boring old mechanic," he said. "But at least he's adjusting a little bit."
"How's school going for him?" Carole asked. "Finn says he still gets upset at school a lot."
"Yeah, he really hates being in the first grade," Burt said. "At least it's making him study real hard. He can read out loud to me now, as long as I help him over the hard parts, and his handwriting's okay." He pulled his baseball cap on his head. "I think the thing that gets to him is being separated from Finn and the kids. Especially when they get to go work on that school play and he has to stay behind."
"Please don't cry," Blaine begged, holding tight to Kurt's hand. "We'll see you tomorrow, we promise."
Kurt covered his eyes with his forearm. He didn't want to cry, he really didn't. But he just couldn't help it. They were going to go inside and sing with the big kids, and he had to go to hateful old tutoring, all by himself. He didn't want to be left alone. He wanted to go with them.
"Maybe we can stay with you," Finn said uncertainly.
Kurt sniffed hard and tried to make himself stop crying. It was stupid to cry, it really was. He knew it. He just couldn't help it.
"My mommy's coming," Lucy said, biting her lip. "We're supposed to go to music class."
"Are we gonna be in trouble?" Blaine asked.
Mrs. Trevelyan walked up to them, frowning. "Why aren't you three in line?" she asked. "The other boys and girls are waiting to start rehearsal."
Lucy ran up to her mother and grabbed hold of her sleeve. "Mommy, Kurt's crying," she reported. "Can't he come to play practice with us?"
"Honey, Kurt's in the first grade," Mrs. Trevelyan said. "I can't put him in the show."
Kurt hung his head. He knew he couldn't be in the play. He just wanted to so badly. He rubbed his eyes and tried to explain, but his voice wouldn't work.
Mrs. Trevelyan knelt down and tugged his hands away from his face. She smiled sympathetically. "Poor little lamb," she said, brushing a tear from his cheek. "Honey, you go to tutoring after lunch, right?"
He nodded, swallowing hard. She squeezed his narrow shoulders. "Well, why don't you come with me for right now," she said. "I'll talk to your tutor."
Blaine gave a joyful leap and took Kurt by the hand. "Come get in line with me!" he said. "This'll be fun!"
Kurt dried his tears as Lucy sidled in beside him. "See, my mommy will fix it," she said. "Now you get to be in second grade with us!"
Kurt took a deep shuddering breath and scrubbed at his face with the heel of his hand, trying to smile. Now he finally would get to see what is was like to be on that big shiny stage.
He followed the second graders into the school and into the auditorium, but his courage failed him when the stage loomed above him. Maybe he didn't belong there. Maybe he needed to just run right back to tutoring and Miss Janey. Oh, he didn't know what to do.
He took a step back, but he felt Mrs. Trevelyan wrap an arm around his shoulders. "I talked to your teacher and your tutor," she said. "They said it was okay with them if you wanted to come to rehearsal. You can go tutoring during morning recess instead."
He didn't know if he should be excited or scared. The stage looked so much more terrifying the closer it got. Mrs. Trevelyan seemed to notice his anxiety; she wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders as she directed the other students into place.
Kurt sucked absently on his thumb as they filtered into their spots. "We're doing Seussical the Musical this spring," Mrs. Trevelyan explained in between her called directions to the students onstage. "Have you read any Dr. Seuss? Like Cat in the Hat?"
He shrugged.
"Well, it's a very fun show. The second graders are playing the Whos. They're teeny little people on a world so small that they live on a speck of clover."
Kurt watched in interest, half-hidden behind Mrs. Trevelyan as she sat down at the piano. She played a few exercises that the other children sang noisily. Blaine kept jumping up and down and waving in between; Kurt waved back shyly.
Mrs. Trevelyan beckoned to Kurt and handed him a large white book. "Honey, I have a very special job for you," she said. "I know you're still learning to read, but I think you can do this. I need you to be the prompter."
He looked up at her, blinking. She smiled. "Whenever someone forgets their line, they'll shout 'line,' and I want you to read it out to them in a nice clear voice, okay?" she said.
Kurt nodded solemnly, balancing the large book on his knees. The newfound sense of responsibility was a little daunting, but he was starting to feel the slightest bit excited.
And he felt special.
"…and, and then the boy, he was Horton, he forgot his line, and I got to tell him what it was," Kurt said, skipping alongside Sammy with one little hand on the dog's golden head. "I was too quiet the first time I said it, and I had to say it louder, but she said I did perfect."
Burt glanced down at the little boy hopping happily beside him and grinned to himself. He'd never seen Kurt so giddy. The child had been bouncing in glee since he'd been picked up from school. It took a while to figure what exactly had made Kurt so happy, but he'd slowly gathered it was something about the school play.
Kurt continued to babble happily with his hand on Sammy's head; the dog periodically squirmed towards him in an attempt to give him an affectionate lick. The three of them walked down the sidewalks in Burt's neighborhood, the light spring breeze ruffling Kurt's soft hair and the budding leaves overhead. Burt kept a firm grip on Sammy's leash as the overenthusiastic dog tried to wander into nearby yards.
"So are you happy?" Burt asked.
"Uh-huh," the little boy said, nodding vigorously. "I get to see Miss Janey in the morning instead of going to recess, and I get to go to music with Blaine and Finn and Lucy. I like listening to music, Mister Burt."
"Yeah?" he said. "What kind of music?"
"Everything!" Kurt said happily. He paused and wrinkled his nose. "Well, maybe not the twangy stuff on the radio."
"What, you don't like Kenny Chesney?" Burt said. "Everybody likes Kenny Chesney." Kurt screwed up his face further and shook his head, and Burt laughed. "Well, you don't have to like him."
They rounded the corner and reached their street. Burt wrapped an arm around Kurt's shoulders as they headed towards the house. "You still hungry?" he asked. "Or are you still full from dinner?"
"Still full," Kurt said. Burt squeezed his shoulder. The kid was eating more than he had when he first arrived, but he still didn't eat much. At least he didn't look quite so thin anymore.
He unlocked the front door and let Kurt jump into the house, then unhooked Sammy's leash and patted the dog's head. "You wanna get ready for bed?" Burt asked.
"Still awake!" Kurt chirped, hopping on one foot.
Burt grinned. "All right, all right," he said.
He headed up the stairs, Kurt still hopping behind him. The little boy followed him down the hall, but paused at the door to the master bedroom, digging the toe of his sneaker into the carpet.
Burt glanced back and smiled. "Come on, you can come in," he said, gesturing him forward. "You're allowed. Just don't mess with anything."
Kurt peeked around the doorframe and inched into the room. It wasn't a very fancy room- light green walls, plain heavy maple furniture, an unmade bed with a crumpled quilt. Burt sat down at the edge of his bed and plucked at his shoelaces. "It's not much to look at," he commented.
Kurt tiptoed into the room, head tilted to the side. He seemed particularly focused, and Burt followed his gaze. His heart sank.
The little boy was headed right for the vanity. Mollie's vanity.
It wasn't much at all, really, just a little white vanity with two drawers and an oval mirror and a matching stool covered in light pink fabric. He couldn't bear to touch it after she died, so it was still the same as it had been the night she died- her mismatched nail polishes, her tubes of lipstick, her silver-handled hairbrush- all dusted clean.
Kurt sidled up to the vanity and peeped into the mirror. His eyes were wide as he solemnly regarded his reflection, his eyes shining in a mix of blue and green and gray. One tiny hand timidly touched one round drawer knob. "Mister Burt, is this yours?" he asked.
"No," he said shortly.
Kurt glanced over his shoulder at him. "Is it your mommy's?" he asked.
Burt hid a grin. "Nope," he said.
"Whose is it?"
The grin faded. He couldn't keep it a secret forever. "It's Mollie's," he said.
Kurt frowned. "Who's Mollie?" he asked.
Burt folded his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. "Mollie was my wife," he said gently.
Kurt's face lit up. "I didn't know you had a wife!" he said. He looked around, as if Burt had simply stowed her away somewhere. "Can I meet her? Is she nice?"
Burt's heart broke. He wished Mollie was there. Mollie would have doted on Kurt. She would have figured out all of his favorite foods and willingly played with him and soothed him in the middle of the night when he had bad dreams- because he knew, he heard Kurt crying out in his sleep in the throes of bad dreams, but he was helpless to do anything but stand in the hallway and wait till he quieted. But Mollie would have cuddled him and kissed him and rocked him back to sleep.
"Mollie's not here, buddy," Burt said. He beckoned to the little boy; Kurt walked up to him, confused. "Mollie…my wife died two years ago."
"She died?" Kurt whispered.
Burt nodded. He tugged Kurt towards him, his big hands on the child's tiny waist. "She was driving home from teaching a piano lesson," he said. "Another car hit a big puddle and slid right into hers. She was hurt real bad."
"So she died?" Kurt said.
"Yeah, kiddo," Burt said. "She died."
He decided not to mention anything about the baby.
Kurt's blue eyes watered. "I'm really sorry, Mister Burt," he said, tangling one small hand in Burt's sleeve. "I bet she's in heaven, though. Mommy says that if you're really, really good you get to go to heaven."
"I bet she's in heaven too," Burt said. He forced a smile and patted Kurt's back. "You'd better go get ready for bed, kiddo."
Kurt nodded solemnly and headed out of the room. Burt sighed heavily and rested his head in his hands.
He really didn't like to think about Mollie. The whole first year after her death he'd wandered around in a fog, unable to put two thoughts together without her interrupting. If it hadn't been for the steady routine of working in the garage in the morning and walking Sammy at night, he probably wouldn't have been able to function.
Especially since he lost the baby too.
Mollie had loved being pregnant. She loved the strange cravings, the way her baby bump had begun to form, all of the plans she had in place. He'd thrown out the name book she'd so carefully highlighted with her favorite choices, but he knew her favorites. Gabriel for a boy, Alice for a girl. They had gone to an ultrasound appointment just a week before the accident and found out they were expecting a boy. Mollie had been delighted. She went out and bought that stupid blue baby blanket right away and draped it over her old rocking chair, teasing Burt about teaching their little boy how to fix cars and sighing over nursery plans.
She would have been a perfect mother.
Burt waited for the thickness in his throat to subside before walking down the hall towards the bathroom. Kurt was brushing his teeth in front of the mirror, already dressed in his pajamas.
Burt leaned against the doorframe and studied him. The little boy was still thin- he'd probably always be thin- but at least he didn't look as hollow and gaunt as he used to. His hair was brushed carefully, neat and shining, and he'd scrubbed his face clean till his cheeks were pink. His eyes were too large and too bright in his pale face, but they were still the most arresting feature about him- clear, bright, and vividly colored.
So much like Mollie's eyes.
Kurt stood on tiptoes to spit in the sink and rinse out his toothbrush. "I'm ready for bed, Mister Burt," he said.
"Well, go on, get under the covers," he said.
He followed him into the little blue bedroom down the hall and picked the book up as Kurt burrowed under the covers. "So where were we?" Burt asked as he sat down beside him.
Kurt hugged his stuffed rabbit to his chest and cuddled into Burt's side. "They were on the rock," he said. "Remember? They saved Tiger Lily."
"Oh, yeah, that's right," Burt said, opening the book. Kurt peered over his arm to look at the pictures as Burt read aloud.
He read through the next chapter, Kurt pressing closer as the situation in the story grew more and more dire. It wasn't until he finished the section and closed the book that he realized that Kurt was practically sitting on his lap. Burt cleared his throat and lifted Kurt off his knees. "All right, buddy, time to sleep," he said.
He lifted the covers so Kurt could snuggle into bed, but the little boy tugged on his sleeve instead. "Mister Burt, I hafta tell you something," he whispered.
"Yeah?" Burt said. "What's that?"
Kurt trailed his fingers across his comforter. "I didn't have any accidents last night," he said, both ashamed and proud at the same time.
"You didn't?" Burt said. "Kiddo, that's great. I'm proud of you."
Kurt looked up, his eyes shining. "Really?" he said.
Burt grinned, cupping Kurt's chin in one big hand. "Really," he said. "Now go to sleep."
Kurt crawled under the covers and laid back with a smile, Big Bun still cuddled in his arms. "Goodnight, Mister Burt," he said cheerfully.
"Goodnight, kiddo," Burt said. "See you in the morning."
Kurt responded with a huge happy-sounding yawn, and Burt smiled to himself as he closed the door most of the way and turned out the lights.
Author's Notes:
At last! A new chapter of Goodnight!
If the last chapter was like pulling teeth, this chapter was like Chinese water torture. I've been getting some super nasty reviews both here and on Tumblr, and it really sucked away the joy I have in writing this story. I know a lot of you are upset that I'm not making the details of CPS perfect enough, but I'm not an expert. I'm doing the best I can. Plus, I'm basing this on a book that's set in World War II, which means some things have to be sacrificed in order to adapt the original plot.
However, an incredibly wonderful reviewer, beonmyrightankle, has experience with CPS and has offered to be my consultant. Thanks to her smarts and prompt message replies, this chapter fell into place, and future chapters are going to be pretty awesome (I hope). So, all of those who were mad at me...hopefully you shall be appeased!
I also want to thank Katelyn (rnstudentandagleek on Tumblr, katexbo on ff) who has very kindly allowed me to take up her askbox with chapter previews and panicked flails. She is a sweetheart and I love her.
But yeah! So. Here's the new chapter...and here's hoping that the next one comes along swimmingly. (I've already written two pages, so yay! Fingers crossed!)
