Your reviews are wonderful! I thank you all so much!
Gah! I totally forgot to mention: my new Beta is LJ's Somzinglyme. They are amazing.
Burt descends the stairs with an uneasy feeling inside. Ever since he'd agreed to let Carole take the kids to see Rebekah (he'd have to have a word with her about requesting things before he's even lifted his head off the pillow), he's been uncomfortable. Of course he trusts Carole, but this isn't a well-researched psychiatrist's office with security cameras; this is an unprotected house, and it's so soon. He worries.
It's probably not too early to call over there and check on things. It's already been an hour. He picks up the living room extension and dials.
Carole answers on the second ring, "Hi, Burt, everything is fine."
Burt sighs, "Thank you, Carole."
"No problem. Kurt's upstairs with Sarah and Noah. I could get him for you if you like."
Burt considers whether or not he's being overbearing, then realizes he doesn't give a flying hoot, "Please?"
Carole tells Rebekah she'll be right back and Burt hears her feet climb the stairs. "Kurt? It's your dad."
"Hi, Dad."
Burt will never stop loving the sound of that voice. "Hey, Kiddo. How are things?"
"Exquisite. I'm attending a tea party and Lady Bucket is a wonderful host." Burt hears a door shut on Kurt's end before his son continues, "Why are you calling, Dad? Is something wrong?"
"No, no, I was just... seeing how you were."
There's an awkward silence while they both realize how sly Burt isn't.
"Is your cell phone charged, Dad?"
"Yeah, I got it..." Burt taps his pockets, then realizes it's in the pants he wore yesterday. Kurt doesn't need to know that.
"I'll text you. And if you text me, I'll text you back within thirty seconds."
'He gets it.' "Thanks, Kurt."
The first text arrives five minutes later: "The bratz girls entered the party and barbie noticed ken giving them the eye. Drama!"
The simple message fills Burt with comfort and pride. That's his son, hilarious and smart and trying to put his old man at ease. He hasn't engaged in a battle of the wits with his son since the kid was six, but figures he might as well: "Never trust a man with plastic hair."
As promised, the response is prompt: "I'm sure it's organic plastic."
Burt decides he'll leave his son alone for now. His stomach leads him to the kitchen where he finds Finn, asleep at the table in a puddle of drool.
"How come I feel like I've been left in charge of the B Team?" Burt figures the aromas of bacon and eggs will awaken the late and oddly-placed riser. He's wrong. It takes the loud clang of the plate against the table just in front of the sleeping face for Finn to awaken with a soggy snort.
"How ya' doin'?" Burt doesn't even try to conceal his amusement.
"...Tired..."
"Yeah, you haven't been able to sleep well lately, have you?"
Finn shakes his head and lazily rubs sleep from his eye. Upon noticing the bacon before him, he fully awakens and eagerly tears in.
Burt chuckles, "I've been thinking about getting you a bed, maybe putting it up in Kurt's old room. I know it's small and I still owe you that addition, but you need a place to lay your head that's not built for sitting."
Finn beams through a mouthful of egg, "Thanks, Mr. Hummel!"
"No problem. How about when you're done here you go hop on your computer over there. Look at Oakmoore's site, and if you find something and we order it before noon we get same day delivery."
Finn is excited at the prospect of legitimately sleeping again, but not so excited he'd abandon his food. He finishes his plate in three substantial gulps and is scanning through images of furniture in seconds. Finn's a pretty easy-going guy, so he finds "the one" about five minutes later. When he calls Burt over, a platinum credit card drops into his lap, and he realizes this is why Kurt's wardrobe is so impressive.
The doorbell rings and Burt looks around to check that Kurt's okay... before remembering Kurt isn't even in the house. Burt makes a mental note to text Kurt again before answering the door.
"Mr. Hummel?" A twenty-something-year-old in too expensive a suit sticks his hand out to shake before Burt's identity is even confirmed.
Burt hesitates before taking the offered appendage, "Yeah, and you are?"
"Scott McAbee. I'm the attorney representing the People in the case against Isaac Goldman. May I come in?"
Burt winces at the name of his son's attacker, but the lawyer doesn't know that particular rule of omission, so Burt gives him another chance and allows him in.
Scott notices Finn on the couch, "Is that Kurt?"
"Uh, no, he's not home right now. Why?"
"I was hoping to discuss the case with him."
"I'm not sure he'd be up to that."
"I'm going to need every detail I can get if we're going to win this case. Surely your son can understand that."
"And surely you understand that he's my son and it's my decision to make."
"I'm sorry. It seems we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I'm just trying to do what's best for your son."
"And you think I'm not?" Burt's about half a second from kicking the suit out the door.
"I think we each have different jobs to do. Mine is getting Kurt justice and putting the man who hurt him behind bars so he can't do it again."
Burt can't exactly hate the sound of that. "Want some coffee?" If Burt's going to be level headed, he's going to need a minute to cool off and it's going to need to be away from the suit.
Scott seems smart enough to understand that. "Yes, please."
As he walks into the kitchen, Burt takes his cell out of his pocket and sends off another message to his son: "Is ken behaving himself?"
"Bucket has taken ken as her own, but considering their relationship, it's more like he entered a priesthood than adultery."
Kurt's okay. So long as that's true, Burt can do just about anything.
Scott stands awkwardly, abandoned in the entryway. He turns about on bobbing feet to see the kid who supposedly isn't Kurt staring at him with a facial expression somewhere between nervousness and confusion.
"Hi," Scott points to the chair next to the couch, "mind if I join you?"
"Uh... no?" Finn isn't sure if Burt accepted the man or not.
Scott sits, "What's your name?"
"Finn... Hudson."
"Hi, Finn, I'm Scott."
"Is this where you ask me questions about Kurt? Because, I'm not really comfortable with that."
"We don't have to, if you don't want to. It would help if we did, though."
"I'm not-"
"Do you know what happened to Kurt?"
"Well, yeah, but-"
"Do you want it to happen again?"
"No!"
"Then I'm going to need all the information I can get."
"Hey, just because you can't harass one of my kids, you go after the other?" Burt stomps out of the kitchen, mug in hand, "Finn, go check out your new room"
"Yes, Sir!" Finn bounds up the first three steps, then pauses. He hasn't been upstairs all that often, "Umm, which-"
"First door on the left," Burt doesn't take his eyes off Scott.
Scott doesn't seem intimidated. "Is that my coffee?"
"Yours is percolating." Burt takes a scalding gulp.
"Mr. Hummel, you don't seem to grasp that we're on the same side here."
"That doesn't give you the right to interrogate my kids."
"They're almost seventeen years old, hardly kids. Surely you trust them to make their own decisions."
Burt lets his glare linger, then plainly informs, "I don't like you much, Scott."
"You don't have to. You just have to know that I'm the best man for the job. I have never lost a case once it's gone to trial, and I'm confident I'll win this one."
"Then what do you need our help for?"
"Mr. Hummel, did you watch the news this morning?"
No, for the first time, he hadn't. Kurt wasn't here.
"The defense is painting your son to be a sinner attacking an honest, God-fearing man with hateful lies. The media is eating it up."
"What? No! They can't-"
"You're irate. I understand. I am, too. We can't let another rapist walk free while the public blames the victim. We can't let Isaac Goldman regain his police powers in your son's hometown."
It's not that Burt wants to relent to the man, but when his son's welfare is mentioned, he's kind of easy to manipulate. "Fine. But you talk to me. You leave my kids out of this."
"I'll let you talk to your kids."
"All right. What do you need from me?"
"Do you know if Isaac ever threatened your son before the assault?"
"No, I... never heard-"
"So you're not sure. Ask your son later. Did Isaac threaten your son's life during the assault?"
"He put a gun to his head," his hard exterior cracks a bit as he utters those words.
"How long? Did he just do it once?"
"I don't- I'll ask."
"Did he actually say he wanted to kill your son?"
"I'll ask."
"Do you know what happened to the condom?"
These questions are painful, but it would be more painful to know his son was hearing them from this complete stranger. "I'll ask."
"Can your son remember any identifying marks that could prove he saw Isaac naked?"
That one makes Burt have to swallow down bile before he can repeat, "I'll ask."
"So far it doesn't seem like you know much more than is in the police report."
This makes sense. The only time Burt had really heard about it was in front of the police, aside from his son's belated confession about the gun.
Scott continues, "The trial starts in two days. The faster I get the information, the better."
"I'll talk with him as soon as he gets home."
"Okay. I've got a few more. Is it true your son is in a romantic relationship with the other victim?"
"...Yes."
"Is it possible they had sex that day?"
"Hey, Noah did not do that to him!"
"Please answer the question."
"I don't know."
"Is it possible Isaac walked in on Kurt and Noah having sex, came on too strongly about morals, and they concocted this to get back at him?"
"That's insane! My son would not lie. He was raped! We brought him to the hospital. He was bleeding, terrified. He can't fake that. I can't believe you'd suggest- We're done here! That's enough questions!"
Scott just sits calmly, "That's the exact reaction I need in that courtroom. The story I just told you is what Isaac is claiming happened, and it's what some people in this jury pool would want to believe. I need that irrefutable conviction, along with every fact I can get, if we're going to win this case."
Carole gets Rebekah smiling again. She's not exactly happy yet, but she's letting go of some of the guilt so she can move past hating herself and start healing herself.
"So," Rebekah hesitates, "Kurt and Noah... They're good together?"
"Perfect. They're in love and so good for each other."
Rebekah nods, pleased yet saddened by how removed she is from her son's life.
"It's easier with Kurt. He's chatty. Finn's another story. Sometimes I'll go for weeks before finding out Finn's gotten a solo or a girlfriend. I had to go to his first game to find out he'd made quarterback! It's just typical boys - they don't talk. Now that you've proven your support for them, and I know you have because they are themselves around you, Kurt will talk with you, too, and keep you up to date on your son. It's why we let our sons date. Trust me, he'll take one look at your closet and you'll become one of his girlfriends."
Rebekah laughs, "I'd like that."
"So would he. Now, you eat that sandwich," Carole points at the meal she'd prepared for her.
"Thank you, Carole. For... everything."
"It's not a problem. I should probably get the boys back, though. And Sarah?"
"Just for one more day?"
"Sure." Carole grabs the kids as Rebekah eats the most delicious turkey sandwich ever to touch her tongue.
"Bye, Mommy!" Sarah slams her body into her mother's in a hug.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Sweetheart," Rebekah kisses her daughter's head.
She has to stand to hug her tall son, who looks relieved upon seeing her. When Puck releases her, he tells her, "I love you, Mom."
She hasn't heard him speak those words in over a decade, "I love you, too, Noah."
Kurt walks up to her and offers a shy smile. She opens her arms hopefully and Kurt falls into a quick, light embrace.
Carole herds her small pack back to the minivan. Puck and Kurt hold each other in the back as Sarah sits up with her and regales her with the tale of her fancy party.
The need to not be outside has Kurt enter the house first, closely followed by Puck, attached to his hand.
Kurt turns toward the sound of voices to see a strange man in his home, his sanctuary. Stranger. He can't protect himself. Stranger might hurt him. Kurt pushes himself into Puck's body, clings, trying to climb up the boy for safety, "Noah!"
Puck holds his boyfriend close, but it takes a second for the reason to click. Leaning down, he scoops Kurt's knees up and carries him into the basement.
Burt looks horrified. He turns to Scott, "You need to leave now. I shouldn't have let you in here in the first place. I'll call you."
"I'll wait in my car." Scott's sort of relentless.
Burt races downstairs, "Kurt? Noah?"
Noah's, "We're here," comes from the closet. Burt cautiously approaches the slightly ajar door to see his trembling son held protectively in Puck's lap.
"Ah, Jeez, Kiddo, I'm sorry." Burt slips inside, flips on the light, and shuts the door. He seats himself between his son's knees and a stack of shoes and takes Kurt's hand, "It's okay, he's gone. He's not gonna' hurt you. He's not coming back in this house. I promise not to let anyone you don't know into this house."
Kurt nods, somewhat calmed by his father's words.
Puck plants gentle kisses to Kurt's forehead, "Who was he, anyway?"
"A lawyer. The one on our side. He wanted to ask Kurt some questions, but that ain't gonna' happen."
"No," Kurt gets out through shaky breaths.
Burt squeezes Kurt's hand, "No what?"
Kurt shudders with the effort of remaining in control, of keeping the mini-panic attack at bay, "I can't... live in this fear. I need him behind bars and I need to do everything I can to put him there."
"Kurt, he asked me the questions he wants answered. You can just talk to me."
Kurt shakes his head, "I need to do this. I can't risk... anything."
"Okay, well, Son, I've got to warn you, he's kind of an asshole."
Kurt lets out a surprised laugh, not expecting that to be his father's protest. "I'm kind of a bitch."
"Well, if he asks you anything that pisses you off, you just let that out."
Kurt nods, smiling.
"Knowing that lawyer, he's probably still sitting in his car. You want me to go get him, have him wait in the living room?"
"Just... give me a minute?"
"You take all the time you need." Burt grunts as he hoists himself from the uncomfortable crouch. He watches Kurt lay his head against Puck's chest and close his eyes before heading upstairs. A quick peek out the window proves that, yes, Scott is sitting in his Mercedes, reading a book, waiting to grill Kurt.
"Burt?" Carole feels she's been patient long enough. Sarah is holding onto the hem of the woman's shirt, nervously darting her eyes between the basement and Burt at the window.
"Kurt's fine. He was just a little shook up by the stranger in his house."
Sarah nods, worrying her lip.
"Come here." When Sarah runs to him, Burt picks her up in a hug. "Everyone's okay. You see that man in the car? He's a lawyer and he's here to talk to Kurt. He's going to win our case for us. That's good, right?"
Sarah nods.
"Can you do me a favor now and go with Carole up to Finn's room, the first door on the left, and help him get the room ready? His bed should be arriving soon."
Sarah nods again, hops down, and lets Carole lead her upstairs.
Burt takes his time walking to the car parked on the curb. Scott notices him coming but doesn't acknowledge him until Burt raps his knuckles into the window. Scott presses a button and the window lowers. He'd just been out there with his car running the whole time, wasting gas, and Burt isn't impressed by the show of splendor.
"Yes, Mr. Hummel?"
"Good book?"
"It details the military strategies of the Persian Empire. Very interesting, care for a read?"
"I'll stick with the morning paper."
"You came out here to discuss literature?"
"I'm starting to think so."
"If your son wants to speak with me, you should let him."
"What makes you think he wants to?"
"You're hesitant. You'd have no problem telling me to leave."
"Yeah, you can quit with the Jedi mind tricks, and you keep your questions to the facts. Don't you dare ask if he faked all this. I'm not above kicking you out twice."
Scott gracefully rises from his car and leads the way back to the house.
Kurt and Puck are sitting on the couch, and when Burt lets Scott back in, Kurt tenses. Puck grabs Kurt's hand and the gesture eases the boy.
Burt places himself between the lawyer and his son, "Kurt, this is Scott, the lawyer. He'll ask you questions and it's up to you if you want to answer them."
Kurt nods, not sure how his father's distaste for the man in Armani will play out. "Dad, could you sit next to me?" That should calm things.
Burt plops down on the couch cushion nearest the chair, which doesn't deter Scott from pointing to that chair and asking, "May I sit?" He doesn't wait for a response, which is fortunate because Burt doesn't offer one.
"Hi, Kurt. I'm Scott." The lawyer wisely doesn't reach out to shake hands. "Is that Noah Puckerman?" At Puck's nod, Scott continues, "I was wondering where you'd gotten to. I have some questions for you, too. Since I know what happened was traumatic and trauma damages the memory, I'll ask you both all the questions and let you use each other as resources. Just be as honest and possible."
Kurt and Puck nod in unison.
Thankfully, Scott heeds Burt's warning and sticks to the facts, never once insinuating that the boys might be lying. They lose track of how long the interrogation goes for, but the whole time Carole, Finn, and Sarah dutifully remain upstairs out of earshot, and Puck and Kurt support each other through and through.
Scott sincerely thanks them for their time, which Burt hadn't seen coming, and is on the phone with his assistant before he's even out the door.
"You did good, you two," Burt nods his approval. Inside, he's still reeling. Apparently the true horror of a situation comes from the details. Knowing that Kurt had been in the middle of a romantic moment, almost naked, before it happened, and that he'd pleaded for the man not to hurt him, and that Puck had been only eight feet away, and that that gun was to his little boy's head the whole time... all makes it so much worse.
Kurt isn't crying, though, so neither will Burt.
The phone rings. Burt's right there, so he answers. "Hello?"
"Mr. Hummel?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"You ordered a bed this morning? Our driver's on his way now."
"Ah, shit."
"Sir?"
"Could you hold on?" Burt lowers the phone and covers the receiver, "Kurt, I don't know where my head's been today. I ordered a bed for Finn and they're coming to deliver it now. I'm sorry."
"That's okay."
"No, I'll just have them bring it some other time."
"No, really, it will be good for me."
"I think you've been through enough today."
"Please, Dad?"
'Well, if you're going to look at me with those eyes... "All right." He turns to Puck, "You stay with him."
As if that isn't already going to happen. Kurt decides to endure this trial in the kitchen, where he can watch everyone going between the front door and the stairs, without being in their path.
Men in gray coveralls walk in with large boxes, make loud drilling noises upstairs, and leave. With Puck's arm around him, it really isn't so bad. He can handle this.
Whitney Houston wails out of Kurt's ass. It's something his generation has grown accustomed to, so his only response is to pull out his cell phone and see who's calling. It's Mercedes, whom he hasn't spoke with for a ridiculous amount of time. If not for her newfound friendship with Quinn, she'd have gone nuts by now. Of course, that could be why she's calling.
"Hey, 'Cedes."
"Tell me why we haven't talked for a week."
"I'm sorry."
"Psh, I didn't say it was your fault. I can pick up a phone, too, but Boy, we are drifting. We need some Us Time, like yesterday."
"Totally," Kurt sighs, happy this isn't a lecture.
"Okay, I called you for something else, but hearing your voice made me realize it's been a while. Anyway, you're watching the news, right?"
He always watches the news... just, not now. "Oh, no."
"Really? Well, that does explain why you aren't pitching a mad fit. Get this: Blonde Bimbo Anchor Lady just talked about some kid in our town who got raped, and she was out trying to make it his fault 'cause the other dude is a cop! Can you believe that? They're saying he framed him; ain't no way!"
Mercedes may continue talking, but all Kurt can hear is the blood rushing to his ears.