Burt was glad Kurt was finally spending time with another kid his age after not doing much for the first two weeks of summer. One of his girl friends from school invited him to go swimming at the waterpark, so he agreed to let him spend the day with her.
He spent the day at the garage, thankful to have a day of peace and quiet to just work. He loved having Kurt around to help him out, but a break from his constant singing was nice.
It was around 2:30 in the afternoon when he the got the phone call. It was his friend's mom letting him know that Kurt had slipped and fallen badly. Apparently he couldn't stop crying so they were taking him to the hospital to get checked out. That sent Burt into a panic. Kurt was hurt and he wasn't with him. He heard the sound of him crying in the background and knew he had to get to him. He grabbed his car keys and got in his truck.
"How bad is he hurt?" he asked, trying to stay calm.
"He just keeps saying his arm hurts. He only slipped but landed pretty hard on it," the woman explained. "We're almost to the hospital, and we'll take him in the emergency room entrance." Burt hurried, but tried not to speed. The last thing he needed was to get pulled over. He hung up the phone and drove the rest of the way to the hospital in silence. What if Kurt was seriously hurt? He hoped he hadn't hurt his head or neck.
After parking haphazardly Burt hustled into the emergency room. Kurt's friend's mom had a clipboard and was already filling out his name and birthday. Kurt was sitting next to her, wrapped up in his pink beach towel.
"Daddy," he moaned.
"Hey, buddy. Come here, it's okay." He gingerly picked him up and held him on his lap. It broke his heart to hear him whimper in pain. "Shh, it's okay. Where's it hurt?"
"A-arm," he choked out, his chin trembling. Burt untucked his towel and took a look at it. He cradled his left arm against his stomach, and there was a telltale bump along his forearm. He covered it back up and eased his head onto his shoulder.
"Just relax, it's gonna be okay. Does it hurt anywhere else?" Kurt shook his head, and Burt turned to his friend's mom. "Thanks for taking care of him. You don't have to wait around with us. I can take care of it." The woman handed him the clipboard.
"I filled out as much as information as I could. Come on, Mercedes," she said.
"Bye, Kurt," the little girl waved at him. Kurt said goodbye to her, and Burt finished filling out all the papers. A nurse came and took it from him so he didn't have to get up and move Kurt any more.
"What happened, kiddo?" he asked.
"I was r-running, and I f-fell backwards, a-and there was a step and my arm h-hit it," he explained, beginning to cry again. Burt wished he knew how to comfort him. He knew better than to run at a swimming pool, but he decided it was best to not get onto him right then.
"We'll get it fixed up," he assured him. "It's gonna be okay." He brushed his damp hair off of his forehead and tried to keep his arm still.
Once a nurse called Kurt's name Burt carried him back to a room. She let him sit up, and carefully moved his arm onto a pillow. Kurt cried out in pain and squeezed his dad's hand.
"It's okay," he said in a low voice to him. He was desperate to make him more comfortable. "Hold my hand, I'm right here."
"How'd you hurt yourself?" the nurse asked Kurt.
"I f-fell at the waterpark," he mumbled.
"He was with his friend," Burt added. "I wasn't there, but the only thing he's complaining about is his arm." The nurse wrote something down on her chart and then unwrapped his towel. Kurt began to shiver, but she got him a blanket to cover up with.
"We'll start him on an IV of pain medication to help him relax a little. Then once he can sit still we'll take some x-rays," she told Burt. He thanked her for her help as she walked out.
"The nurse is gonna give you something to take the pain away," he said to Kurt. "You'll start to feel better after it kicks in."
"I wanna go home," Kurt pleaded. "I wanna lay down." Burt tried to get the bed to lie back, and he finally found a switch.
"There you go. We'll go home in just a little bit," he promised. "They're gonna fix your arm up." Kurt closed his eyes and Burt looked down at him. He looked so tiny in the hospital bed. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and shifted positions slightly, still visibly uncomfortable.
The nurse returned ready to give him his IV, and he started to get upset.
"Dad, no," Kurt begged, trying to turn away from her. Burt held his good arm still so she could clean it off with her rubbing alcohol. He didn't want to have to hold him down.
"It's okay," he soothed. "It won't hurt if you relax. Close your eyes and it'll be over real quick." Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and the nurse stuck him in the back of the hand. He let out a whimper, but didn't cry. "It's in," Burt told him. "You're all done. Now your arm's gonna start to feel better."
Kurt slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times. "No more needles?"
"No more needles. You did really good," he praised. The nurse pressed an ice pack onto his arm. "Oh. That's cold."
"You should start feeling a little better here in a couple of minutes. Then we'll take some x-rays of your arm and see how we can fix it," the nurse said to him.
"Then can I go home?" he asked eagerly.
"We'll have to see, but I bet you can." Kurt looked over at his dad anxiously, and Burt knew how much he wanted to get out of there. "I have other patients to check on, but I'll be back to get him into x-ray." She left again, and Burt pulled up a stool next to the bed.
"How are you feeling, kiddo?" he asked him.
"Weird. My arm feels funny. I don' like it." Kurt tried to pull the ice off of his arm, but Burt gently lowered his hand down to his side.
"Just relax. It'll go away after a little bit. We'll be home really soon."
Whatever drug the nurse gave him took total effect after a few more minutes. Kurt became relaxed and groggy, and had completely stopped crying. The nurse let Burt carry him down the hall to the x-ray room.
"Daddy," he slurred. "Don't go."
"I'll be right outside, kiddo. This is only gonna take a couple of minutes. All you gotta do is hold still," he told him. The technician positioned his arm carefully and Burt stood back as they took several pictures. Once they were done, he picked him up again. "There you go. That's all you had to do." he cradled him in his arms and followed the nurse down a different hallway to a new room. Burt sat on the bed and continued to hold him; he would get upset when he tried to put him down.
"Mommy," he pouted. "Want Mommy." Burt wanted her, too. She would be able to make him feel better.
"I know, buddy. But it's gonna be okay," he promised him. "We'll go home and you can rest and watch Cinderella. Would you like that?" Kurt nodded weakly and buried his face in his dad's shoulder.
The nurse from before and a new doctor came into the room several minutes later. His x-rays clearly showed he broke the bigger bone in his forearm. Burt held his head so he wouldn't see it and get scared. The two pieces weren't lined up, so the doctor had to push on it and work with it to bring them back together. Kurt got worked up and cried heavily, but once they wrapped his arm in a little purple cast he calmed down. The nurse removed his IV and made Burt sign several papers.
"Are we leaving?" Kurt asked, sounding exhausted.
"Yeah, we're going home." He draped his towel over him and carried him to the truck. Buckling him in was difficult, but he managed to do it without hurting him.
He stopped by the pharmacy and got the prescription pain medicine the doctor called in for him. Once they got home he carried him inside and laid him on the couch. Kurt was still in his swim trunks, so Burt carefully changed him into a T-shirt and pajama pants. He tucked him in snugly and elevated his arm on a pillow.
"What would you like to eat, bud? I can make you a sandwich or a can of soup," he offered.
"Sandwich," he murmured. Burt made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and put on Cinderella for him. Once he ate and took his pain medicine, the kid was out like a light. Burt turned off the TV so he could rest, but stayed in the living room so he could keep an eye on him. A broken arm was pretty painful, Burt would know, but at least it would be okay. He wasn't in the hospital and he didn't need surgery. He was gonna get better, even with Burt having to do all the work.
Author's Notes:
I like to write Burt having to take care of him and hovering over him to make sure he's okay, so I wrote this. Basically this is how I broke my arm when I was nine. It happened the first week of summer and I got my cast off the week before school started. And I was dumb and picked a tie-dye cast, which if you Google it and look at the pictures, is just about the ugliest kind of cast you can get. So when I broke my leg a month ago I was smart and got a pink one.
So that is the backstory for that. Let me know what you thought of it!