WARNING: This chaper contains some detailed descriptions of Kurt finding Burt after his suicide. If you're squeamish or don't like blood, don't read anything between the second and third line break on this page. First line break follows this.
Kurt's heart beat so fast he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. So many thoughts were rushing through his mind that instead of being able to grasp a single one he could only hear them form a kind of electric humming in his head. He was running as fast as he could and it still felt like slow motion to him. He could hear his foster father call out for him, but he was not able to make out the words. All he knew was that he needed to get to his Daddy and everything would be okay.
Right as the child was about to reach his goal the bald mechanic turned around, wiping greasy fingers on the front of his overalls and looking down at the boy in front of him in surprise.
"Anything I can do for you, kid?" he asked in a gruff voice.
Kurt froze. Something seemed to shatter deep inside of him. This was not his daddy. Of course not, his daddy was dead.
And then he was walking down his street again, wiping away angry tears because Kieran Conroy had spilled paint all over the picture Kurt had been drawing for his father. A picture of Kurt and his parents back when they were still happy, before mommy got ill and had to sleep all the time. Before she died and it was just the two of them. He had not dared to cry on the bus because he knew it would make him a target, but now he let the tears fall freely. He had planned on giving the picture to his daddy on father's day. It had been a really good drawing, one that was sure to get a special place on the fridge and Kurt was upset because he had been looking forward to seeing his daddy smile. His daddy never smiled anymore.
He walked up to his house and across the porch, taking the chain from around his neck and carefully inserting the key into the lock. His mommy had always told him she would never allow him to become one of these children that had to carry a key around their neck, she felt sorry for those kids because they had no one to come home to. She promised to always be waiting for her baby and she had, for many years she had been waiting for Kurt on the porch, with a bright smile on her face. She would announce what musical they were going to watch that day and then they would eat together and afterwards they would sing and dance while cleaning up. Kurt loved it when his mommy lifted him up to reach the top shelves and then swung him around laughing carelessly. They both knew all their musical DVDs and Cds by heart. Kurt wished his mommy were waiting for him on the other side of that door, but he knew he was going to be alone. No music or laughter to fill his home.
He entered and toed his shoes off his small feet, leaving them by the door. He dropped his school bag by the dining table, where he would do his homework later. If it was a good day he might be able to get his daddy to help him. He walked into the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. His daddy's coffee cup still sat on the counter and the little boy decided to clean it, because a clean kitchen would surely make his daddy happy. He knew there was some food left for him in the fridge. There was a sandwich and milk and his father had bought new cookies for the jar on the kitchen counter. It was shaped like a bear and made a funny noise when you opened it to take a cookie out, Little Kurt had been scared of it at first, but that had been ages ago.
He decided against the food, he could wait a little bit longer and have dinner with his daddy when he got home from work. He grabbed the glass of water and tiptoed into the living room. He was going to find his mommy's favourite musical and fill the quiet house with some songs. He did not make it to the entertainment centre before he stepped into something wet. He looked at his glass of water curiously. Did the glass leak? Had he spilled some water without noticing it? There was no sign of a leak and he had been careful carrying it.
Kurt lifted his foot and stared at it in wonder. His white sock had turned a deep shade of red around his toes. He looked back to the floor and for the first time noticed the puddle of thick red liquid. Furrowing his brows he followed the puddle with his eyes. His heart stopped. There was a body lying in the puddle. His daddy was lying in this puddle! The father was lying perfectly still and Kurt knew that must mean he was hurt, because the puddle was cold and there was no way his daddy would like lying down in a cold, sticky puddle in his living room.
"Daddy!" he cried out and ran to his father.
Something was wrong. Something was really really wrong. His daddy did not respond.
"Daddy, please!" the little boy begged.
He dropped to his knees next to his father's motionless frame. That's when he saw it. His daddy was not sleeping and he was not just hurt. His father was definitely dead. A large part of his head was missing, splattered across the floor and his favourite armchair. There was a lot of blood, but the flow had stopped long ago. Burt Hummel was gone. His eyes were open, but staring into nothingness.
Kurt was not stupid. He knew his daddy could not hear or see him anymore.
"Why?" he sobbed. "Please don't leave me! I don't want to be alone!"
He crawled up to his father and hid his face in the man's broad chest. He immediately missed the warmth that would normally radiate from it. He wrapped his small arms around his father's body as well as he could. If daddy could not keep himself warm anymore, than Kurt would just have to do it for him.
He held on tightly crying for what felt like hours, until he finally drifted off to sleep. The phone ringing woke him up a few hours later, but he did not answer it, that would mean letting go of his daddy and he just could not do that. He had to pee but he did not dare get up for that either. He knew it was gross, but he was scared to find his father gone if he let go of the body. Maybe God would come and take him away? Or maybe angels did that? He knew his mommy had been lowered into the earth at the funeral, but how had she gotten there? Maybe they would not do that to his daddy if he just held on long enough? Maybe God would see how much he needed him, how much he was willing to sacrifice, maybe he would have some sympathy and make everything okay again?
Time had lost all meaning by the time the doorbell chimed. Maybe it was a delivery guy. Had they ordered anything? Maybe it was God. But would God not have a key?
Later Kurt thought he heard voices, but they were muffled and he could not make out what they said. Were they calling for him? There was a bang and he could hear the door open. More voices and footsteps. Kurt clung even tighter, he could not allow them to take his daddy away.
He heard a shocked gasp and more footsteps. He tried to hide his face, maybe if he ignored them they would go away.
"The boy is alive!" someone yelled.
Large hands grabbed him and tore him away from his daddy.
Kurt screamed, he screamed and cried and begged for what felt like hours. And then he just stopped. He stopped and nobody would hear a word from him in a long time.
"Kurt!" he heard the voice of his foster father. "Kurt!"
The voice was muffled like coming from another room. Or like the voice of his mother when Kurt practiced holding his breath in the bath tub for too long and she got nervous.
"Kurt! Breathe!"
Yes, exactly like those times in the bath tub. He did not feel wet though. He tried to take a shallow breath and it worked. He was not under water. Maybe he was trapped in a bubble, at least it would explain his foster father's blurry features in front of him. Yes, that must be it. Somehow he got caught in a bubble.
He heard more muffled voices and then he was raised into a pair of warm arms and carried away. Where were they carrying him? He had to tell them where to go.
"I want my Mommy!" he cried.
"Shhh… it's gonna be okay." was the muffled reply.
Kurt did not notice being in a car until he was pulled from it. Those strong arms were carrying him again, softly rubbing his back the whole time. Reassurances were whispered but he could not make them out from inside his bubble. He was carried inside a house.
"Emma!" a desperate voice rang out. "Emma!"
Emma? That was mommy's name. Somebody was calling mommy. She would know what to do. She would get Kurt out of this stupid bubble.
And then arms wrapped around him and the bubble burst. Kurt could see and hear and breathe. But it was not his mommy who was holding him now, it was his brother.
"Shhh, ranger. It's gonna be okay." Noah said holding the shaking boy in his arms. "What happened?" he asked his father.
"I don't know. I took him to the garage and…"
"You took him to a garage?" Puck was barely able to swallow the "Are you stupid?" that would have followed.
Will fisted his hair, he was not going to defend himself in front of a fifteen year old.
"Where's your mother?" he asked instead.
"She has that meeting with the pamphlet people."
Oh no! Will had completely forgotten about that.
"Call Dr. Davies." Santana's voice came from beside him.
Yes! Of course! Will turned around not quite sure how to make that call.
"I'll do it." the latina said.
The father looked around. His two oldest sons were fussing over the crying child, Santana was on the house phone, while Artie was on his mobile, trying to reach his mother. Sam had just left through the porch door, was he getting Sue Sylvester? How come these children knew what to do and he felt so helpless? His knees gave way and he dropped onto the couch.
"It's not your fault." Brittany said taking his hand.
He looked at her questioningly.
"I know it get's scary when he cries like that." she continued. "But he needs his daddy now. Go be his daddy."
Will swallowed hard and got up to walk over to the crying child. He took him from Puck's arms and rocked him gently in his own.
"It's okay, son." he whispered. "It's gonna be okay. I promise. I got you."
AN: Please don't hate me!