Warnings: Written while sleep deprived! Also possible spoilers up to Laringytis.
Chapter 11
Finn has spent a painful few hours watching the minutes tick by on the clock next to his bed. He doesn't get it, usually he's out as soon as his head it's the pillow. Sometimes before.
He tried running laps around his bedroom to burn off some energy. Bad idea. His bedroom is barely big enough to swing a cat in and there's so much junk on the floor he ended up putting his bare foot in a bowl of something that may or may not have at one time been pasta. Or possibly cereal.
Plan B was counting – always works on Sesame Street: One little sheepy, two little sheepies. Trouble is, sheep kind of creep him out so he switches to zombies, which is much cooler. He gets to 456 zombies before he realizes he's totally spooked himself and has to turn on the light.
As he does there is a crash downstairs that makes him jump. He tosses on his robe and grabs a can of deodorant (because it's the best weapon he can come up with at short notice – although the pasta/cereal concoction looked like it could do some damage in the right situation).
He creeps down the stairs and peers into the living area. Oh. Burt. Definitely not a zombie.
Burt has been staying with them since Kurt has been in the hospital. Only he hasn't been very… Burt-like. He has barely eaten or spoken and Finn can tell his mom is worried.
Finn isn't really sure whether to say hi, or whether he should creep back upstairs. Burt is in his dad's chair. Finn is still getting used to that. He watches the older man take a swig of his beer before putting the bottle down on the small table next to him.
Burt's eyes seem to catch sight of the photo propped up next to the lamp. He picks it up and looks at it, as if seeing it for the first time.
A tiny Finn clasped to his father's chest. Finn watches as Burt looks at the photo for a moment before, putting it gently back down on the table and wiping at his eyes. Was he… crying?
Shit, Finn thinks he should probably be back in bed. He turns away from the door but has forgotten he still has the zombie-repellant clasped tightly in his hand, and it bangs against the door frame.
Finn lets out an undignified yelp and when he looks back, Burt is staring at him looking a little freaked.
"Finn, buddy, you scared me."
"Sorry, sir." There is an awkward pause, as Finn contemplates fight or flight. But Mr. H really does look like a wreck and he decides can't just leave him. He gestures to the chair next to him, "Mind if I…?"
"Take a seat son. You having trouble getting to sleep?"
Finn shrugs, "Zombies."
"What?"
"Ah, I mean too much going on in my head. Thinking, you know? How are you doing?"
Burt looks away, "I'm doing ok."
There is a silence. Something is nagging at Finn's brain. Something that's not zombie related. Something to do with… oh yeah.
"Uh, Burt? There's something I wanted to ask you. It's about something Kurt said. Something I don't understand."
Burt takes another gulp of his beer.
Finn takes his silence as permission to continue, "Uh, so, he was telling me to look out for you. Something about making sure you were eating right. Not too much salt, that kind of thing."
"Yup, that's my boy." Burt sighs and looks up at Finn, "What you gotta understand about Kurt is, he's… well he's a worrier. Has been ever since he was little. He took his mom's death real hard and he got scared. I guess he didn't want anything happening to me."
Finn nods, "I get that. He doesn't want to be all alone."
"Right, so he got a little… over-protective. Took over my diet completely. Strictly low fat, organic low salt, no alcohol… he glances at the beer in his hand and grimaces slightly before putting it on the table.
"Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense. Sorry to bother you."
"It's no bother." Burt makes a noise that's a little like a laugh but totally isn't, "Good to know he still cares. You know, things with Kurt have been off for a while. And I shoulda realized. He was sick, Finn. Real sick, and he didn't tell me. Why didn't he tell me?"
Finn isn't sure what to say. He moves closer to Burt and puts an awkward hand on his arm, "He didn't tell anyone. It's not your fault."
"I'm his dad Finn!" Burt is almost yelling now and Finn can smell the beer on his breath, "I'm his father. I shoulda been looking out for him. I shoulda known. I saw the signs but I thought he was just being pissy and difficult. I accused him of being jealous and childish and… I don't blame him for wanting to shut me out. I'm a terrible father."
Finn wishes his mom was there.
"You're not a bad father. You and Kurt, you mean everything to each other, it's obvious. You're a great dad!"
"And these pills that jock punk gave him? Kurt says he wasn't forced to take them but that means he took them himself! Why did he take so many? Was it just for the pain, or… or did he…."
Burt is crying for real now. Finn feels way out of his depth, "Maybe I should go wake mom…"
"They were too much for him. He's so little Finn, he's too little. He's always been too little. It's my job to protect him and I failed. I'm a bad father."
"You're not a bad father! You're a great dad – Kurt is lucky to have you and he knows it!" Finn is almost yelling too now.
He sees Burt's eyes fall back to the picture of Finn and his dad. He seems to deflate a little.
"Finn, I'm sorry son. I shouldn't be burdening you with all this. You're a great kid you know that? Your dad woulda been real proud of you."
"Thanks. Listen, Burt? There was one more thing. When Kurt was saying that stuff about taking care of you? He didn't sound like he meant for like a few days or a week or whatever. He sounded like he was going away somewhere. Like, for good."
Burt's eyes snap up to meet his own.
"Going away?"
"Yeah, like, at first I thought he meant that he was getting worse and that he was going to… you know."
"He was talking like he was going to die?" Burt's voice is tight.
"No! Well, yes! That's what I thought at first! But then he said he was getting better. It's just he was talking like he wasn't going to be around for a long time. I didn't understand so…"
Burt bolts to his feet so quickly that it makes Finn jump. He grabs his coat, and runs for the door, still in his slippers.
"Where are you…"
"Stay here Finn, let your mom know I've gone to the hospital to see Kurt."
"Burt, visiting hours are over! It's 1am – it's too late!" Finn calls as Burt opens the door.
"You're right – it's too late. I shoulda done this weeks ago." The older man pauses for a moment and looks back at Finn. "I meant it, kid. Your old man woulda been proud of you. Don't forget that. Tell your mom I'll call in the morning, ok?"
Finn nods mutely and watches as the door slams closed behind him.
Kurt crouches in front of the wall in the hospital parking lot, feeling a little deflated. It wasn't that he'd wanted it to be difficult. It's just he can't help but feel the whole Great Escape thing has been a little disappointing.
He has spent the whole day meticulously planning his route, taking account of every possible complication down to the finest detail. Turns out - hospital security? Kind of lackluster.
Looking back he wishes he had accounted for the weather. The only clothes he'd had available had been the jeans he had Carole brought in and the jacket that he'd been wearing That Day.
As he had slipped out of the back exit, the wind had hit him, blowing his hospital gown up, and making his teeth chatter.
He thinks longingly of his Vivienne Westwood Cashmere jacket, lying balled up under his sheets in his hospital bed. It was a necessary sacrifice, he knows this; it was the only item of clothing he had with him that, when combined with his pillow, was big enough to pass as a sleeping sixteen year old. Even so, he can't help but feel a small pang of grief when he thinks of it.
Still, when he is a famous fashion designer in New York he will have so many couture high-fashion jackets he will be cleaning the toilet in them. Hell, he will be cleaning the toilet with them. Except, of course, he will have servants to do that.
Short term loss for long term gain.
His fingers are numb, and it takes him several attempts to extract his iphone from his jeans pocket. His fingers fumble awkwardly with the screen but finally he brings up the number needs and presses the call button.
"Hi, Noah. It's Kurt… I have something for you and… and I need your help."
Five minutes later and Kurt is walking, his arms clasped firmly around his front to try and keep his chest warm. It has started to rain. His hospital gown billows out behind him like angel wings. He ignores his spinning head and aching muscles and focuses on where he is going.
He climbs the wind-swept hill behind the hospital, higher and higher and higher and higher.
He thinks only of his destination. And of the last time he went there with Her.
Trinity Point: The place where he had sat with his mom and shared memories just a few days before she had left him.
The next time they were there it had been to scatter her ashes over the edge.
Kurt had wanted to help his dad but Burt had forbidden it and made him wait by the truck, far, far away from where the ground fell away. Kurt could make out the dark streams of ash as they caught the breeze and were blown away.
That couldn't be his mom, it must be a mistake.
They sat in the truck for a long time after that, looking out over the view.
His dad sat there, his face gray as silent tears fell from his eyes and Kurt felt bad because he'd promised his mom he'd look after him and now he didn't know what to do.
He had taken his father's large hand in both of his own and held it tight as he held his own tears back, remembering what his mom had told him: Be strong and look after your dad.
And he has tried ever since, he really has.
As Kurt reaches the view-point he feels a childish need to have someone's hand to hold. He sinks to his knees exhausted and looks out over the town before him. It looks different in the dark.
The only thing close enough to make out in any detail is the old gray hospital and that is the last thing he wants to look at.
He crawls closer to the edge until he is so close that when he looks out, there is no ground in front of him at all; it's almost like he's flying, with Lima laid out before him in a patchwork of lights and memories.
He brings his knees up to his chest to try and keep warm. Raindrops and sweat trickle down his back. He shivers. The damp from the earth begins to seep through his jeans but he can't bring himself to care.
He looks out over the town and he waits. And he lets himself remember.
"Isn't it beautiful honey?"
Kurt wrinkles his nose and looks at the view before him with a critical eye.
"I'm not sure mommy, it just looks like houses."
His mom giggles and holds him closer. She is in the chair but he's allowed to sit on her lap. It's kind of cool, being wheeled around and stuff. Sometimes when his mom is sleeping, his dad takes him out into the hallways for rides. Or he did, until they plowed into that nice orderly and got in trouble.
Kurt snuggles closer to his mom. She smells of hospital now, not perfume and cookies like she used to, but it's definitely still her. He's checked.
"See that house over there?" He looks out to where she's pointing. There are lots of houses and they are all teeny tiny. "See the one with the bright red truck parked outside?" He squints into the distance and nods, "That's the house where you were born?"
"Really? Cool!"
"Very cool. And see the park just a little over from it? Do you remember learning how to ride your bike there?"
"I fell off." He replies sadly.
"You fell off the first time." She agrees and he hears a smile in her voice. That's one of the things he loves about his mom, she always has a smile in her voice. "But you got right back on and tried again."
"And I fell off again!"
She laughs, "But you kept trying and within no time at all you were riding all over the park, do you remember? All on your own! I was so proud! Even when you rode into that duck! And right over there is the school where your dad and I met. And that white church is where we got married. That was the second happiest day of my life!"
"What was the first happiest?" Kurt asks her, but he is grinning because they've played this game before and he knows the answer.
"The day you were born of course!" She tells him and kisses him on the cheek. He makes a disgusted face and pretends to wipe it off.
"Moooom, I'm too big for kisses!"
"Wrong, kiddo – you're never too big for kisses from your momma. If I was here when you were thirty I'd still be doing this." And she kisses him all over making him squirm and giggle. "So you see, some people might not think this view is very beautiful, but I do. Because when I look out I see all of the places where I've been so, so happy with you and your dad."
Kurt takes another look out over the teeny tiny houses and trucks and parks and churches.
"You know what mom?"
"What sweetie?"
"I think it's beautiful too. The second most beautifulest thing ever!"
His mom smiles down at him, "And what's the first most beautifulest thing ever?"
"You!" He grins up at her.
"Even without my hair?"
"Even if you had two heads and were all green and warty like an alien and smelled of ectoplasm like on ghostbusters!" He tells her, decisively.
"Thanks baby." She tells him and holds him close as they look out over the town together. "Maybe someday when you're bigger you can come up here like I have and look at all the happy places we shared." She tells him, "And of course by then you'll have a whole other bunch of happy places to look out for too. Places you've found all on your own."
"Mom?"
"Yes honey?"
"I don't think I'll be able to find any happy places all on my own. Not without you." He sniffs and tries to blink away the tears from his eyes. Big boys don't cry, that's what his daddy says.
"Kurt? You listen to me. I know you can do this. You and your dad, you make a great team. You'll be sad for a while, and you'll miss me. And even when I'm in heaven with all the angels I will miss you and count the days until we can be together again. But you will be happy again I promise. You are my wonderful and amazing boy and you have a wonderful and amazing life ahead of you. Do you understand that? Do you believe me?"
Kurt sniffs and nods.
"And I need you to be strong and look after your daddy ok?"
Kurt wipes his eyes and sits up straighter, "I will mom, I promise."
"Hey, you two need to come away from the edge!" Uh-oh, his dad's doing his angry voice. Kurt's eyes widen but his mom just rolls her eyes which makes Kurt giggle.
By the time Kurt looks up again, his dad's right there pulling the chair back further away from the edge.
"We were perfectly safe Burt."
"Yeah, yeah whatever, Kurt buddy, you need to get off your mom's lap. I can't push the both you over this terrain. You're getting too big."
Kurt scrambles of his mom's lap and stands next to his father. He feels a large calloused hand take his and looks up at his dad. He has to look real far 'cause his dad's tall, like a giant. His mom says if he keeps eating all his vegetables someday he'll be tall like a giant, too. Cool.
His dad's face looks sad so Kurt squeezes his hand extra tight. Together, they help his mom into the truck and head back to the hospital.
Burt Hummel arrives at the hospital, wild-eyed and soaked through.
He ignores the receptionist's greeting and marches straight past her, heading for Kurt's ward.
"Sir, you need to sign in! Sir!"
He marches on, and has nearly made it when a strong hand grabs his shoulder and turns him around. He is so not in the mood for this and it takes a lot of restraint not to lash out.
Instead he breathes through his nose and growls out, "Yes?"
"Sir, visiting hours are over – you need to come back in the morning."
"I need to see my son." Burt growls at the security guard who is a lot sturdier than he looks, as Burt finds out when he tries to barge past him.
"You need to come back in the morning Sir. Go home, sober up, come back tomorrow."
"Listen pal, I need to check on my boy. Now. So either you let me through or I'll…"
"Sir, you need to calm down."
"I'm perfectly calm," Burt snarls through gritted teeth, "I just need to see my son. His name's Kurt Hummel and he's just down the hallway, room 207. I can see his room from here! Now excuse me."
He goes to move away but is stopped by a different hand on his shoulder. He turns around to see a young doctor with honey-colored hair and a pretty smile.
"Hal, you can leave us. We'll be ok." She tells the security guard who glares at Burt before backing off.
"I'll be right over there if you need me." He tells her, his eyes never leaving Burt's. Burt glares right back at him, until his attention is drawn back to the doctor in front of him.
"You must be Mr. Hummel. I'm Doctor Smith – I've been looking after Kurt these past few nights."
"Nice to meet you." He replies, trying his very hardest to sound reasonable, "Now let me see my son."
"Mr. Hummel, it's not that simple. You don't need me to tell you that your son has been very sick. He still has a fever and rest is very important to his recovery. I'm sorry but you really need to go home, sleep it off and then come back in the morning."
"Please, doc." Burt feels something inside him break just a little, "I got some things I need to say and I'm real worried about him. His… brother told me something this evening. Something that's got me scared. Just let me check on him please. His mom's dead. He's all I've got."
Doctor Smith's expression softens, "Look, I'll make you a deal. If you take a seat right here I'll get one of the nurses to get you a cup of coffee and I'll go and check on Kurt for you myself ok? And then you really need to go home and come back tomorrow."
Reluctantly, Burt lets her lead him to a chair and waits anxiously as she heads down the hallway to his son's room. A nurse brings him a cup of coffee but he barely acknowledges her, his eyes are fixed on the door to his son's room.
A minute passes and he can take it no more. He barges past the nurse and rushes towards the door, flinging it open.
The first thing he sees is Dr. Smith. She stares at him, a puzzled expression on her face. His eyes, travel across the room to Kurt's bed. The sheets have been pulled back to reveal a white hospital issue pillow and a jacket that Burt vaguely remembers having to fork out a small fortune to pay for.
"Where's my son?" He asks the doctor.
"Maybe he went to the bathroom…"
Burt rushes through to the bathroom and flings open the door. The room is empty.
"Where the hell is my son?"
"Mr Hummel? You need to come see this." The doctor calls.
Burt rushes back into Kurt's room and she gestures towards the bed.
Lying on top of the pillow is a white sheet of paper folded in half. On it, in his son's unmistakable crisp writing is written "Dad."
Burt grabs the paper and reads the letter, feeling his face crumple as his knees give way and he sinks down onto the bed.
"Mr. Hummel?"
"He's gone." He says, in a voice that doesn't sound like his own, "Kurt's gone."
"I'm calling security." The doctor says as she dashes from the room.
Burt sits, reading and re-reading the words that Kurt has left for him.
Dear Dad,
We both hate goodbyes so I decided to make it easier for both of us. I know I've let you down and I understand why you made the decision you did.
I love you dad. Please take care of yourself.
Kurt x
Then he leaps to his feet and starts sprinting for the door.
"Mr. Hummel, where are you…"
"I know where he is! I'm going to find my son!"
Author's notes: Hey, if you're still with me on this one – thanks! I've been terrible at updating recently and I think my writing actually gets worse with every chapter but I really am determined to finish this fic.
As usual a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I've said it before but I'll say it again because it's true - this story would have been abandoned long ago if it wasn't for you guys so thanks again
