AN :
HI EVERYBODY! I'm so happy your staying with me on this long journey. THANK U!
So, we're hopping in time on this chapter – but only two days! LOL!
We see Burt and Kurt and (YES!) Mercedes (FINALLY!).
Also, remember that Burt and Paul have never met each other as adults in this story, except when they were classmates in high school.
So, thank you to all who are still reading and I thank garethglee14, and umbrella0326. U all mean soooo much to me and I'm grateful for ur helpful reviews and suggestions.
OK – on to the story!
Please leave kind reviews – who doesn't love them?! LOL!
HAVE A NICE DAY!-
ILOVESMESOMEGLEE
Chapter 21
He found he loved these Saturday mornings.
He had plenty of time to prepare a great, heart-healthy breakfast for his dad.
With a smile on his face, he pulled out a huge number of items to prepare an omelet – eggs, feta cheese, spinach, vinegar, tomatoes, saffron, etc.
Fresh saffron was hard to find in the Lima area and he prided himself on accomplishing this task.
He heard a yawn from behind him.
He smiled.
"Good mornnnin'…"
"Good morning dad!"
"Ugghhh…"
He heard his dad plop down at the kitchen table.
Sure his dad was reaching for the coffee pot, he soon heard the sounds of liquid being poured into a ceramic cup.
A few moments passed as he swirled eggs in a plastic bowl.
"Ugghh. Decaffeinated?"
"Yes, dad."
"My heart won't kill me. You will, Kurt."
Briefly sidetracked by the comment, Kurt resumed swirling eggs, adding seasonings and spinach.
Soon, the sizzling sound of eggs frying in olive oil filled the room.
Another yawn…
"Didn't sleep well, did you dad?"
Kurt's response was another yawn.
Finally, Kurt turned and faced his dad.
"You know the newspaper is just to your right. You can wake up by reading about the most recent murder in downtown Lima."
Burt chuckled.
"Nice sense of humor, kid."
Behind him, Kurt heard the rustling sounds of The Lima News being opened as Kurt continued to make the omelet, now adding freshly cut tomatoes. A bit more black pepper was added and just a pinch of salt for the heart-sick father. Kurt couldn't hold back a smile as he added drops of fat-free cream into the omelet.
He would do anything for his father, including tolerating complaints about his dad's 'new' diet.
But Kurt was a Hummel.
And Hummels are stubborn.
So, Kurt insisted his dad eat this diet. After all, Kurt was the cook in the house. Burt wasn't.
He so wasn't.
After a few minutes, Burt chuckled as he was reading the newspaper. Kurt was almost ready to flip the omelet.
"By the way," Burt began, "I see here in the newspaper where McKinley's glee club is hosting a charity concert."
"Yeah," Kurt distractedly replied, "we've been practicing for-…wait, what?!"
Kurt left the stove and snatched the paper from Burt's hand.
"It made the news?!"
Kurt exclaimed.
"Yup. Right there."
Burt said, pointing to the article.
Well, you could hardly call it an article.
Scrunched between the Classified Ads and Yard Sales, was the glee club's charity concert, listed very briefly under Community Events.
"I didn't think Mr. Shuester would do that."
"Are you sure he did?"
Burt asked, a devilish look in his eyes.
Kurt flipped his head and stared at his dad.
But Burt simply smiled at him.
"Dad! You didn't!"
Burt looked down, snatching his coffee cup.
"Well," Burt proudly said, "you've been working so hard that I thought a little recognition was necessary."
"Oh dad!"
Kurt launched himself into his dad's arms.
Chuckling, Burt returned the embrace.
They held each other for a long moment until they both heard the intense sizzling sound coming from the stove.
Quickly, Kurt detached himself from his dad, returning to the omelet.
"We never had any recognition like this when I was in high school."
Burt said, folding the paper in half and dropping it on the table.
"Yeah, when I was in school, we didn't get recognized for anything unless you were an athlete like me."
"Well," Kurt began, turning off the stove, "it's nice to be recognized. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Kurt."
Burt flashed a quick smile and then turned back around to his coffee. "I mean, I wasn't just an athlete, Kurt.
I did other things too. I was in the photography club my junior and senior years."
"I didn't know that!"
Kurt exclaimed, reaching for a plate.
"Yuuuuup. I actually liked it…for a while."
Kurt recognized the sudden sadness or something in his dad's voice and didn't like it.
"F-for a while?"
Kurt asked.
"Yeah…"
"What happened?"
Kurt was now sliding the heart-healthy omelet onto a plate.
Burt sighed.
"Well, I wasn't always the nicest person, Kurt. Even in high school."
"You've mentioned that before."
"Yeah, well…"
Kurt grabbed a fork and some black pepper.
He scooped the plate, fork, and pepper in his arms and gently placed all three in front of his dad.
"Thank you, Kurt."
Burt sweetly said.
Kurt just smiled and left him to eat, cleaning the kitchen.
"But…?"
Kurt asked, filling the sink with soapy water.
Burt scooted his chair back a little and turned it so he could face his son.
This was a delaying tactic that proved way too short. But this was an important conversation to have – Burt had to prove that he wasn't the perfect man Kurt is picturing him to be.
"Well," Burt began, taking a quick sip of his coffee and scrunching his face over the taste, "I was a jock. Jocks have an image to uphold. Or, at least, they used to… Don't know if they still do."
"Oh, yes they do."
Kurt bitterly replied.
Burt chuckled sadly.
Kurt's sink of soapy water had reached a satisfactory height and he shut the water off.
"Anyway, like I said, I wasn't the nicest of teenagers."
Kurt was vigorously scrubbing at a pan, patiently listening to his dad.
"Kurt, you have to understand that-"
"I understand one thing."
Kurt angrily interrupted.
"I understand that my father was probably a bully, who picked on the weaker kids and made their lives hell! In fact, I bet you invented locker checks and punching all the fag-"
"Stop!"
Burt roared.
"You're out of line, Kurt."
Kurt paused.
He still had more to say but was being hushed by his father.
He watched his father sideways as Burt shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable during this uncomfortable conversation.
"I suppose I was trying to excuse my behavior, wasn't I?"
Burt gently asked.
Kurt said nothing.
"Well, I was one of those jerks that made fun of kids. Yes, Kurt – weaker kids. And I'm not proud of it. It was what it was."
Kurt's intensity level against the unoffending pan rose exponentially. Burt noticed and immediately took action.
"But I'm trying to make amends now. By being a nicer man. By being a good father. By being the role model you want me to be!"
Kurt came to a screeching halt.
"I know, Dad. And you are."
"I am?"
"Yes. You are."
"Well, good."
Burt relaxed a little in his chair. "Once, I toyed with this kid in photography club. I stole his expensive camera, holding it up and away from him. It was funny at the time, but was such a stupid, stupid, stupid thing to do."
Kurt resumed washing dishes.
It seemed to Kurt that his dad had to get this off his chest. So, he stood there stoically, waiting for his dad to continue.
He didn't have to wait very long.
"A-and another time, in photography c-club…"
Burt struggled.
Kurt stopped but did not turn towards him. He was unprepared for a heavy discussion that morning but realized his dad needed to talk. So, he listened.
Again.
"I found these photos…of guys."
Kurt stopped again, but didn't face his dad.
His hands were probably getting clammy from the hot water but he didn't care. Burt cleared his throat, probably unnecessarily, but continued anyway.
"These photos w-were in a…guy's camera case."
Tears threatened to fall from Burt's face now.
"I…I took the photos to the principal. The kid the photos belonged to…never returned to school."
Kurt sighed.
He just couldn't face his father right then.
The man he looked up to was finally showing his true colors of his past.
And Kurt hated it.
He wanted his dad to be a paragon of virtue.
But he wasn't.
He really was human, after all.
"You should've seen this kid's best friend's face when he found out his best friend was gone."
Burt anguishly said.
Still, Kurt said nothing, scrubbing the hell out of that frying pan.
Burt sadly chuckled.
"It was awful. That poor kid. I'll never forget the look on Paul Karofsky's face."
Kurt nearly fell to the floor.
.
.
"Well, it's about time!"
Kurt looked up to see Mercedes approaching him.
Her facial expression was intense and almost predatory.
"Hi Mercedes."
Kurt innocently said.
"'Hi Mercedes'? That's all I get?"
"What do you mean?"
Mercedes sat down in an empty chair with a little 'hmph'.
She quickly pulled out her lunch containers, plopped them down in front of her, and looked at Kurt with an exasperated expression on her face.
"I only see you in glee and you hardly talk to me. Today is Monday and I haven't even seen you since last Friday. We used to have lunch every day but you disappear. I call you and it goes to voicemail. What the hell, Kurt?!"
Kurt was at a loss for words.
Mercedes had a knack for doing that to people.
But quite suddenly, Mercedes softened her voice, placing her hand over her heart.
"Did I do something, Kurt?"
"No, no!"
"Well, then, what is going on with you?"
Kurt sighed, looking away.
He caught sight of a hawk sitting on a tree branch, nestled beside the faculty parking lot.
The hawk seemed to be staring at him, as if it were telling him to just tell the truth.
Of course, Kurt didn't.
"I've just been busy, Mercedes."
Kurt said, looking down at his salad.
"Busy, huh?"
Mercedes challenged.
"Well, I've been busy too but at least I don't cut out people in my life I care about."
Again, Kurt sighed and looked out the window.
The hawk was gone.
He returned his gaze to his frustrated best friend.
"Look, Mercy," Kurt began, "I just…"
Mercedes motioned for him to continue.
She was ignoring her lunch and didn't care.
Kurt played with a carrot in his salad before he felt a hand slap it!
He looked up to see Mercedes pulling her hand back, resting it on her lap.
"Spill, white boy!"
Kurt sighed.
"And stop sighing! You'll hyperventilate."
Now, that was a funny comment.
Kurt couldn't help but chuckle, which was returned by Mercedes.
The two best friends just sat there for what felt like hours, chuckling at the stupid little comment until finally they stopped.
"I've been busy helping out…a friend."
"A friend?"
Mercedes asked, curiosity really peaked.
"Who?"
"I…I can't tell you."
"Oh, not this routine again! Kurt, you can tell me. I'm your best friend. I won't tell anyone!"
"Mercedes, I'm sorry, but I swore I wouldn't tell anyone."
She stared at him for a moment until she finally sat back, arms crossed defensively.
"Well, can I help in any way?"
"You already have."
"I have?"
"Yes! Remember? The yearbooks from the '80s?"
Mercedes eyes widened.
"That was helping?"
"It sure was."
Kurt said with a proud smile.
"And I knew I could count on you." Then, he leaned forward a little.
"Mercedes, I'm sorry I haven't been around. But my friend has been going through…a lot. A lot more than any teenager should. He needs me. And I need hi-"
Kurt cut himself off.
Was he actually about to say that he needed David Karofsky? He checked his words and simply didn't know the answer.
But Mercedes knew what she heard. Smiling, she leaned towards him.
"Is he cute?"
"Mercedes!"
"Well? Is he?"
Kurt defiantly began twirling that same carrot that got his hand slapped.
"That doesn't matter."
Kurt said, absorbed with his nutritious toy.
"What does matter is that he needs my help and I can help."
Mercedes smile slowly went away.
"Is he in trouble? Is he in jail?"
"No, Mercedes. He isn't. Look, let's not talk about that OK? I want to know what's going on with you!"
This was the right thing to say to Mercedes.
Mercedes began going on and on about her classes, her brother, her struggles at getting a good solo in glee, her weight issues, and so on.
Kurt patiently listened, too keenly aware that Dave was still in his thoughts.
As she went on about a new car she's trying to convince her parents to buy for her, Kurt's thoughts drifted to his dad, and Dave, and Paul. And Jack.
Suddenly, Mercedes came to a halt.
"-o you think?"
"Um, what?"
Kurt asked.
"What do you think? Do you think it'll work?"
"Oh! Oh, yeah, it should work."
Kurt played her off perfectly, knowing full well he wasn't listening to her.
And he should've been.
Just why is David Karofsky front and center in his brain?
"I have to go to the restroom."
Kurt announced.
And before Mercedes could say another word, Kurt was gone, practically running out of the cafeteria.
Mercedes sighed.
She looked to her right, opening up a Tupperware container, when she caught something in her peripheral vision.
Kurt's cell phone.
An internal battle began in her mind.
Kurt was being evasive about his life and Mercedes wanted to help.
But snooping into someone's cell phone is wrong. She warred with herself until one thought finally came through – what if Kurt is in danger?
She looked to see if Kurt was on his way back.
There was no way he could've been since he left not thirty seconds before. Casting away her morals, she reached for the phone, opened his texts, and began to read what would become a very illuminating snooping session.
.
.
"W-who?"
Kurt asked, hands still submerged in hot, soapy water. He was frozen to the spot, trying his hardest to look neutral.
Staring out the window, Kurt tried to focus on anything in the backyard and failed.
He thought he heard the name right but couldn't believe it!
His dad knew him. His dad knew Paul!
"Paul Karofsky."
Burt replied, still looking lost in thought.
"I never really got the opportunity to make up to him for being such a bastard."
Both Hummel men were silent, lost in agonizing thought.
But, for very different reasons.
Suddenly, Burt turned around facing the kitchen table, forearms resting on the edge. Kurt hadn't moved.
The silence went on for much longer than Burt thought necessary.
"Kurt?"
Slowly, Kurt turned his head and stared at his dad, no longer concerned with the awful revelations of his dad's past.
"I'm fine, dad."
Kurt said distractedly.
Burt watched him as he dried his hands and briskly walked to the kitchen table, sitting down.
Kurt immediately got right back up, walked over to the cupboard, grabbed a coffee cup, and sat back down.
Then suddenly, he reached for the coffee pot and shakily poured himself a cup of coffee.
He set the coffee pot back and stared into his cup.
Burt sighed.
"Look Kurt," Burt gently began, "I know this isn't the kinds of things you want to hear about your old man's past, but-"
"W-what…? Oh, that. Yeah, that's OK, dad. That's…OK."
Burt eyed him a little closer.
"You OK?"
"Oh! Yeah. . ."
Kurt replied, looking up at him.
"But dad?"
"Hmm?"
"This kid in your class. This Paul…?"
"Karofsky."
"Karofsky. Yes. Did you…?"
Kurt hesitated and then found the strength to keep going.
"Did you…know him well?"
Burt straightened up, taking and holding a deep breath before finally letting go.
"Sort of. Like I said, we had photography club together. In fact, his best friend, the one who disappeared, was in the club too. He and I got along pretty well."
Kurt gulped.
He knew the answer to the question in his head. He knew it!
But he had to ask it.
He just had to.
"W-what was his name?"
"Jack Hampton."
Immediately, Kurt's head dropped back to the suddenly fascinating coffee cup.
"Was this kid…ever found?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
Kurt began tracing his index finger along the edge of the coffee cup.
"Isn't that…strange?"
"Yeah. It is."
Burt took another sip of his now-cold coffee, grimacing at the taste.
"This Paul Karofsky guy…did you ever seen him again at all?"
Kurt asked.
"No. At least, I don't think so."
Then Burt flashed a smile at his son.
"But Kurt, I don't think he'd ever want to talk to me again. I made his life hell at school."
And then, he looked thoughtfully away.
"A lot has changed since high school."
You're telling me, Kurt thought.
"So…"
Kurt stammered.
"Were this Paul and Jack…these guys…friends?"
"Yeah, Kurt. I said they were best friends."
"I know, I know…I mean…"
Burt narrowed his eyes, tilting his head a little towards his struggling son.
"Kurt, what are you trying to ask me?"
I wish I knew, Kurt thought.
"Did you think that…well…they weren't just…friends?"
Kurt watched Burt look away, filtering through the years of his memories, searching for an answer to his son's question.
Kurt went back to fingering the coffee cup, afraid of what the answer might be.
"Not that I can recall."
Kurt closed his eyes and recoiled ever so slightly, as if he'd actually been punched by this answer.
He soon realized that his dad couldn't, either voluntarily or involuntarily, help with his problem with Dave.
At least, not right now.
Kurt sighed.
"Kurt, what's going on?"
"Nothing, dad. I'm fine."
"Well, you seem to be preoccupied with these kids from my school."
"Oh, I was just curious."
Burt wasn't buying it but realized he wasn't going to get anywhere. So, he shrugged and picked up the paper.
Kurt sighed a little in relief.
Now, he just had to figure out if there were any other memories his dad might have that could be helpful.
He just had to figure out a way to see if…
And that's when it hit him.
If his dad could see.
Could see…
"Dad?"
"Hmm?"
"You said you were in the photography club, right?"
"Yeah."
"So, you probably have photo albums from high school, right?"
Burt looked at his son inquisitively.
"Yeah, somewhere."
"So…you probably have photos of your…photography club. Right?"
Burt thought for a moment before he replied. "Yeah. I think so."
"Could I see them?"
"Why? My photos were terrible!"
Burt couldn't help but laugh a little at his comment, but his laughter came to a screeching halt when he saw how serious Kurt was acting.
"You really wanna see them?"
"Yes, please!"
Kurt begged.
Burt chuckled.
"OK. I think they're in the hallway closet, top shelf."
Kurt leaped out of his chair and raced to the closet.
He had to sift through old clothes and boxes and weapons and tool kits and anything else that got in his way.
Even a sneeze escaped his nostrils, from all the dust. Finally, after about a minute, he found it.
Dusting it off with his hand (which made him grimace), he brought the cardboard photoalbum to the table.
"Man, this brings back memories."
Burt said.
"Be careful with it, Kurt."
But Kurt had plenty of other things on his mind.
There was one photo in particular he was looking for, but anything that showed Paul and Jack would be helpful.
And just as he was turning the fourth page of Burt's photo collection, he found it.
Staring back at him was a group photo – '1984 McKinley High School Photography Club'.
And there they were – Paul and Jack were side-by-side, arms around each other, smiling so, so happily.
The sight almost brought Kurt to tears.
But then, he saw something.
He blinked and looked closer...
His eyes couldn't have gotten wider.
Shielded around their thighs, but just barely visible, you could see Jack Hampton and Paul Karofsky holding each other's hand.
No one would have noticed if they weren't paying attention.
Kurt smiled.
.
AN: WHAT DO YOU ALL THINK?
DID YOU LIKE IT? IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS OR CONCERNS LET ME KNOW... AND AGAIN YOU CAN PM YOUR QUESTIONS OR CONCERNS IF YOU WANT? :).
PLEASE REVIEW. PLEASE BE KIND. HAVE A NICE DAY X3 -ILOVESMESONEGLEE