A/n: Some clarifying information; this is set in the extended Marvel Cinematic Universe (All the movie, Jessica Jones, Daredevil, Agents of Shield, all of it). I will make use of things I know from the comics and sometimes use that over the movies but it is primarily set in the MCU.
I have decided to include X-men in the universe, it felt right.
This story will come out in phases (not to match the movies), because I like to have defined steps and accomplishable goals.
Disclaimer (because I forgot to put one into the first chapter): I don't own the MCU or Glee, I'm just having fun (read stress).
"What am I supposed to do while you're at school?" Bruce took a bite of his toast, giving Kurt the puppy dog face, "You don't have television and if I learned anything from my recent past, it's to stay far away from computers." The man tussled his curls and laid his head on the breakfast bar, "Should I sleep all day?"
"That's cute," Kurt's breath caught in his throat at his own words, he powered through it, "I found you a job."
"You found me a job?" Bruce smiled, "I haven't had a job in years."
"It's more of an apprenticeship," Kurt admitted, correcting himself.
Bruce scoffed, "it's more than I've been able to get."
"It's my father's garage," Kurt gave a shy smile, "I barely had to do anything." Kurt was wilting under the flattery, "but I'm sure you heard the shouting last night."
Bruce wilted as well at Kurt's words, "I did, about that-"
"Don't," Kurt shook his head, "while you might feel responsible for what transpired between my father and I last night, I want you to know that isn't true; that fight had been a long time coming."
"I wish there was something I could do to help," Bruce shrugged, "I can't help feeling like this is my fault."
"You can help it," Kurt smiled, adjusting his hair even though it didn't need it, "you don't have to take responsibility for everything that happens around you, ever hear of correlation and causation?"
"So there's nothing I can do?" the puppy dog look was back.
"There is one thing you can do," Kurt grabbed a slice of toast and nudged the older man's shoulder "please don't destroy anything today." Kurt kissed his father, who was standing in the doorway, on the cheek, "please be nice."
"No promises," the men chorused as he left through the back door.
Kurt's travel to school was the polar opposite of the previous day's; the sun was shining and the wind wasn't as biting, he was skipping merrily rather than trudging through the sand, and his mind was focused on the future instead of holding on to the past. He was liberated, it felt as if he had opened the curtains in the metaphorical room of his life; in the new light everything seemed brand new.
"You're glowing," Charlie teased him.
Kurt shrugged, "I feel brand new."
"Why?" Charlie raised a malevolent brow, "did you have cucumber for breakfast?"
Kurt stopped in his tracks, "you're disgusting!"
"How is that disgusting?" Charlie slung his arm over Kurt's shoulder, "Sex is a natural part of human life and it seems to be doing you well, even if it is just oral."
"I have not altered my diet in any way," Kurt snapped in responce.
Charlie shook him, "you're one of those people who won't put in your mouth on the first time, Kurt I trusted you."
"I have not had sexual relations with Bruce Banner," Kurt hissed at his friend.
Charlie grinned, "yet. Besides, when Bill said that he didn't consider oral to be sex."
"Why are you this person?" Kurt rolled his eyes.
"Let's be honest," Charlie's grin stretched from ear to ear, "you love this person."
"I have been letting you keep your life," Kurt tugged playfully on the boy's cheek.
"Are you trying to rip my face in two?" Charlie half shouted, "because you're tugging a little hard."
Kurt let go, "did you see the news this morning?"
"Aliens," Charlie nodded to himself, "why is it that the day after you confess to being one, they're suddenly everywhere?"
"What are the chances that there would suddenly be an influx of human looking aliens, unprompted?" Kurt countered.
"You don't look that alien," Charlie shrugged.
Kurt shrugged, "I'm not that alien."
"You don't look like an alien," Charlie clarified, "So maybe it's the Kree or whatever."
"The Kree naturally have blue skin," Kurt explained, "My mother had to regularly dose herself with nitrogen to keep from turning into a smurf."
"Well," Charlie got a wicked grin on his face, "do you want to cut school and see what else we dig up about these non-alien aliens?"
"Probably just that the mutant population is growing," Kurt countered, "Soon, you'll outnumber humans and they'll go extinct."
"That is morbid as hell," Charlie shuddered, "My parents are humans."
"I'm sorry you don't understand how evolution works," Kurt leaned up against his friend's shoulder, "A large part of leaping forward genetically, is the extinction of your predecessors. That's why you don't see Homo sapiens idaltu or Homo neanderthalensis roaming around, they were wiped out by Homo sapien sapien." Kurt's smile grew, "but cutting school does sound like fun."
"Are you finally agreeing to a ditch-day?" Charlie beamed.
"Turn now before I lose my cool," Kurt spoke between gritted teeth.
In one swift movement that Kurt would have expected only from a dancer, Charlie swivelled Kurt on his heels and they were heading away from school. Kurt's blood went cold when Ms Daniels' silver Honda hatchback passed them going in the wrong direction, she rolled down the window and waved.
"Don't worry," Charlie tried to be assuring, "she won't say a thing."
"And how do you know that?" Kurt squealed, trying to fight his friend's grip.
"I do know that; because she would never rat on you, you're her favourite student," Charlie's voice was soothing, which put Kurt on edge.
"That can't be right," Kurt shook his head and, in that moment, shook off the feeling of unease, "I've only been around for a year, and some of you have been at the school since freshman year."
"You can't fight the facts though."
Kurt stopped walking, his mouth opened and closed for a moment before the words finally came, "I've never been any teachers favourite, adults generally don't like me."
"That is true," Charlie admitted, "but Bruce took to you like a fish to water."
"Yes," Kurt nodded, "we really get on like a house on fire."
"Is he going to be at your house?" Charlie beamed.
Kurt shook his head, "No."
"You guys asked him to leave?" Charlie paled, "I would have at least tried with my parents if I'd known, sure they would have said no but he wouldn't be out in the world on his own."
"We didn't ask him to leave," Kurt rolled his eyes at how dramatic his friend was being; Kurt never thought he would be the one to think someone else was dramatic- other than Rachel Berry, who managed to make occasion for it no matter the situation- and had to hold back a laugh. Charlie had a confused look on his face, "I felt that if he was staying with us indefinitely then he needed to have something to do with his time."
"You mean other than beating it up like a rented mule?" The boy made a crude gesture.
"Firstly, you don't rent a mule, you lease it; the insurance is always better on a lease," Kurt shook his head, "secondly, that idiom is about fighting."
"I have my own listed response," Charlie crossed his arms, "Firstly, how do you know what the most efficient way of acquiring a mule for the short run is? Secondly, you know what I mean."
"They mentioned it on Archer and I got curious," Kurt shrugged, "And I really don't know what you mean."
"I'm talking about how Dr Banner is going to bend you over those lovely granite counters and-"
"I don't want to hear anymore," Kurt held up a silencing hand, "it's just weird hearing you say it. Do you often think about how men are going to… Fornicate Under the Consent of the King me?"
Charlie was quiet for a moment, "more than the healthy amount." He shrugged, "but let's focus how you just used the false etymology of 'fuck' rather than just saying the word."
"My problem isn't with saying fuck," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I just don't like using it in that context, it's so crude."
"Since Bruce is living with you," Charlie grinned, "do you just have a reserve Red Lobster fund?"
Kurt giggled, "that fund has nothing to do with Bruce, it's for my personal use in the case of a really great emergencies." Kurt guffawed boisterously, "solid Beyoncé reference."
Kurt opened the door and let Charlie in, the boy moved to throw himself onto the couch but a reproachful look from Kurt in the foyer saw him gently sitting on the couch, "I'm a little afraid of you, I legit think you would murder me of I mistreated your couch- and that's before the super strength."
"It's not super strength," Kurt blushed, "it's pretty normal for my species, superhuman would be a more accurate description."
"What are your hobbies outside of correcting me?" Charlie sulked as he pulled out his MacBook.
"I alter and repurpose my own clothes," Kurt shrugged, "Get the spider going, I'm going to get my laptop."
"I probably will have found everything we're looking for by the time you manage to boot that thing up," Charlie teased him.
"I'm not sure whether that was you hyping your own programming skills, or you taking a dig at my computer," Kurt called out across the house.
"A little bit of both," Kurt could hear the smarmy grin in Carlie's voice.
"My laptop serves the purpose for which I bought it," Kurt countered, "I can watch all the series I like and I can shop online." Kurt fell onto the couch beside his friend, "when I bought it I didn't need it to do more. I ahev extended its duties recently but it hasn't let me down yet."
"You clearly don't need any encryption," the boy teased as he flicked the post-it stuck on the left hand corner of Kurt's screen, "Why do you have your password on there?"
"In case my dad needs to use it," Kurt explained, "I'm also not interesting enough for someone to want to break into my house just to get onto my laptop; it's mostly pictures of clothes and my Netflix queue."
"I am sure your internet history is quite interesting," Charlie teased.
"In what year?" Kurt furrowed his brow, "Incognito is my standard browser mode, the only thing on my internet history is my dad asking google if Blue Ivy is a new drug."
"Having only met your father yesterday when he kicked me out so you could have a chat," Charlie's grin was growing as he spoke, "I think he's a pretty cool guy; wants to know if you're on drugs, wears seahorse pyjamas, is immortal, and look at this décor!"
"I decorated this house," Kurt corrected, "but my father can be a pretty cool guy." Kurt heard keys at the door, trying to get it unlocked, "a pretty cool, dead guy."
Kurt moved quickly and opened the door causing Bruce to stumble into the foyer, "What are you doing here?"
"I have to study the safety manuals and learn the names of all the tools," Bruce answered quickly, "Your father said I didn't have to hang around the garage just to read, probably because I look ridiculous."
"He said you look ridiculous," Kurt gasped.
"My words, not his," Bruce clarified.
"Those chinos are white and a few sizes too small," Charlie offered "Pairing them with a flannel shirt just exacerbates how strange this look is."
"Which is why I laid out a seafoam oxford to match them better, the belt and shoes were going to tie the whole thing together," Kurt explained, "And the pants are champagne."
"I didn't think your shirt would fit me, these pants barely fit me," Bruce admitted, "I really need to get my own clothes."
"The shirt, like the one you're wearing, was my dad's. The pants fit perfectly, they're slim fit," Kurt huffed, "I'm sure champagne goes better with green, but please do have fun shopping for aubergine dress parachute pants."
"Look, not that I don't appreciate your clothing choices but they aren't really right for me. They look great on you, I'm just-" Bruce let out a tired sigh, "what's the right thing for me to say right now?"
"Nothing, you've said more than enough," Kurt said coldly, "go read your little safety manuals and learn the names of the tools you'll be working with."
"You two just skipped honeymoon and went straight for passive-aggressive old married couple," Charlie teased after Bruce disappeared down the hallway.
"You be quiet and tell me what the internet says about the aliens," Kurt snapped.
"Hey," Charlie whined as he did as he was told, "Why you mad at me? I'd wear whatever you picked out for me."
"I know," Kurt slumped into the couch, "but he called my clothes ridiculous, that hurts."
"I think given that it was his first day working as a mechanic's apprentice, the choice wasn't the best," Charlie explained, "I'm not saying his word choice wasn't problematic, but I think you should give him the benefit of the doubt; I don't think the dudes ever had a wife."
"I am not his wife," Kurt huffed.
"You're filling a very distinct role in his life right now. It was either wife or mother," Charlie shrugged, "the latter would have made things awkward later."
"I knew he was going to be reading the whole day and I picked an outfit he would be comfortable in but still look professional," Kurt explained, "I'm sorry if my kindness isn't received in the spirit with which it was intended."
"You should tell him that," Charlie shrugged.
"I will decide when I next speak to him and what I say to him," Kurt snapped, he crossed his arms and glared at his friend, "Don't think being a good friend and giving sagely advice will make me forget that you haven't given me an update on the information we're searching for."
"The spider says that the information we're looking for is on the SHIELD mainframe," Charlie explained, "Super encrypted, even the file name is redacted from this point of view. It is showing me a backdoor through the Stark Industries servers, but this fire wall is fire."
Kurt nodded for a moment, "I'm going to go fix things with Bruce."
"Okay," Charlie shrugged, "you think now is the time to do that? While I have one foot in the stark fire wall from hell?"
"Yes."
Charlie shook his head, "I'm going to be here, trying not to get arrested for corporate espionage."
Kurt walked to the guest room, he knocked and waited to be invited in but there was no response. Kurt made the executive decision to enter without invitation, "Bruce?" Kurt looked around but there was no sign of the scientist, "Bruce!" Kurt walked through the room to where the room opened up onto the back porch where the man was reclined on the hanging chair with Kurt's spare headphones on his head, "Dr Banner."
Kurt giggled as the man fell out of the seat, flailing in astonishment, "don't sneak up on people like that."
"Don't put the headphones on the loudest when there are people in the house," Kurt scolded, "I called your name at least a hundred times." Kurt helped the man to his feet, "Isn't it a little chilly to be in just a wife beater? Also a little too early to be listening to Already Gone, you weren't planning on leaving because we argued over a pair of pants, were you?"
"Kelly Clarkson touches my soul," Bruce admitted with a slight blush.
"I know the feeling," Kurt nodded. He stiffened, "about the clothes-"
"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings," Bruce interjected.
"I was being overly sensitive," Kurt gave a shy smile, "they didn't seem pragmatic to you, whereas I knew all you'd be doing is reading."
"Oh," Bruce flushed.
"Now," Kurt grinned, "Would like to take a break from reading to help us hack into Stark Industries?"
"I think your dad wants me to have these rules committed to memory before work tomorrow," Bruce shrugged.
"They're the same as lab safety rules," Kurt explained, "You'll be fine, let's go hack a little."
"Why do you want to hack into Stark Industries?" Bruce furrowed his brow.
"We want to use it as a back door into SHIELD," Kurt explained.
"Why do you want to get into SHIELD?" Bruce asked as he allowed himself to be led into the lounge, "Shouldn't you been in school?"
"Those two things aren't related," Charlie said without looking up from the computer, "but we want to know more about these aliens, our spider, root kit, Trojan horse says that's where we'll find what we're looking for."
"You are some weird kids," Bruce shook his head as he started working from Kurt's laptop, "shouldn't you be trying to buy cigarettes and getting varsity jackets to impress each other, racing cars and making fun of each other behind each other's backs?"
"That's basically the plot of Grease," Kurt couldn't help giggling, "you don't want to know if we should be cheating on Aron Samuels in the projection room above the auditorium?"
"Solid Mean Girls Reference," Charlie fist bumped him.
"Both are technically outdated references to teen culture," Kurt tussled the older man's hair, "surprise bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of this generation."
"Here's the sitch Melody Bostic," Charlie countered, he took a moment to laugh at his own terrible Emma Stone impression, "Our generation is beyond having a single movie define our teen lives, there has been an onslaught of good teen pop culture in our lifetime."
"Because you're all in this together?" Bruce had a self-satisfied grin plastered on his face, clearly impressed with himself.
"Please tell me that smile is because you got past the fire wall and not for that pathetic High School Musical reference," Charlie shook his head, trying to stifle a laugh.
"What can we say if the man believes in dreaming," Kurt smirked at his friend, "shooting for the stars?"
"If you stroke each tender gill," Charlie leaned in to whisper into Kurt's ear, "then I'm leaving."
"I'm in," Bruce announced before Kurt could put together a snappy comeback to Charlie's crude remarks.
"I'm going to run the spider again from within their system," Kurt took the computer from Bruce.
Bruce furrowed his brow, "What happens when shield realises you're in their computer systems?"
"Nothing," Kurt smiled, "it looks like a Stark Industries computer is looking at their files."
"What about when Tony denies accessing the files?"
"He would have to admit to being hacked," Kurt explained, "for a company whose bread and butter is propriety information technology goods, a hack would reduce their stock to nothing; if Mr Stark were to find us, he would have great value for our silence."
"Good insurance policy," Bruce nodded as he tried to watch what Kurt was doing over his shoulder.
"Found what we're looking for," Kurt smiled from ear to ear as he scanned the intra-agency report on the matter, "it's an outbreak of superpowered beings."
"Not aliens like the president said?" Charlie quirked a suspicious brow.
"Never believe what you're being told by the Government," Bruce sniggered, "They don't know what's going on in the most part."
"But in this case the president had been given a half-truth," Kurt countered, "according to this, these inhumans are humans who have a dormant gene that is activated by terrigen mist."
"Like dormant mutants?" Charlie furrowed his brow.
"No," Kurt's breath caught, "it's the result of ancient experimentation, the gene is a splice of Kree DNA that is present in some humans."
"What else does it say?" Bruce pressed him.
"They've been around for millennia and the outbreak started a few months back because-" Kurt's thought process was stopped by his own gasp.
"What does it say?" Bruce tried to get a look at the screen over Kurt's shoulder.
"A large dose of the terrigen mist was released into the ecosystem," Charlie nodded to himself, "I don't understand."
"It was released into the ocean," Kurt found his voice again, "it isn't harmful to those who don't have the gene but it will activate every inhuman through ocean products, looks like they curbed the fish oil problem."
"They can just stop people from eating seafood," Charlie shrugged, "that would contain the outbreak to those who've been exposed already."
"it's in the ocean," Bruce begins, "that means that through the natural cycle of water, it'll be transferred into drinking and irrigation water supplies."
"This chemical will soon be in everything we eat and drink," Charlie realised.
"There's no way of avoiding the impending outbreak unless they somehow formulate a vaccine," Kurt extrapolated the thought that was floating between them.
"Considering the way people have reacted to and treated mutants," Charlie swallowed a lump, "I can't understand why whoever is advising the president would want to increase people's paranoia with regard to the people with abilities."
"Because people with abilities have the potential to be dangerous," Bruce's voice was small.
Kurt glared at the man, "mostly to themselves."
~0~
The phone rang a short time after dinner, "I'll get it." Kurt acquiesced when he realised that neither Bruce nor his father were showing any kind of indication that they had any intention of moving. Kurt lifted the receiver, "Hummel Residents, Kurt speaking. How might I be of assistance?"
"Hello Kurt," a female voice that was vaguely familiar came through the receiver, "it's Miss Daniels, I hope I'm not calling at a bad time."
"Not at all," Kurt had a saccharine smile on his face to hide his nerves.
"I saw that you and Mr Scot-Harrison were both absent from school today," her tone was level, comforting yet stern, "I was wondering if this was a matter you would like to discuss with me."
"Not particularly," Kurt tried to keep the malice from his voice, "No."
"Look Kurt," Ms Daniels' voice took on a maternal tone Kurt didn't like, "I understand that growing up is difficult but you shouldn't change who you are for someone else."
"What do you mean?"
"Right now it might seem like boys are then end of the world," the woman explained, "but your life will go on with or without them."
"I don't think we're on the same page," Kurt admitted.
"I read your file and before today, you had never cut school."
"Neither has Charlie," Kurt snapped.
"You don't have to defend your boyfriend, nobody is in trouble," she was trying to assure him but Kurt was certain they weren't in trouble, "but from what I saw, he was leading you away from school."
"He's not my boyfriend," Kurt corrected her, "Charlie and I are just friends."
"I-" her voice caught, "I suppose I misread the situation. I know you two are close and the way he had his arm slung over your shoulder led me to jump to conclusions, I apologise."
"Don't apologise," Kurt sighed, "it was an honest mistake."
Miss Daniels cleared her throat, "May I ask why you cut school today?"
"I couldn't be in that place today," Kurt's voice shook.
"May I ask why?" she gently probed, "maybe there's something I can do to help."
"I don't think there's much you can do to help the situation," Kurt kicked himself for his sloppy wording.
"There's a situation?" Kurt could hear the woman leaning forward in her seat, paying him more attention.
"I think my choice of words might be a tad misleading," Kurt shook his head, "I'm making a mountain of a molehill."
"At a subconscious level there's a reason you chose the wording you chose," she was probing him, Kurt cursed her for using her psychology degrees against him, "please, tell me more."
"I'm just being overly emotional," Kurt trained his voice to the verge of tears, "it's just, recently been the anniversary of the day it happened." Kurt fanned away imaginary tears and sniffed loudly, "I just don't understand why I survived and she didn't? We were in the same car, same accident."
"I see," Kurt could hear the stiffness in Miss Daniels' voice, "And how does Mr Scot-Harrison fit into this."
"Was comforting me during a very emotional patch," Kurt's voice deliberately caught mid-sentence.
"Can we set up a session at my practice," she asked, "I'd like to explore this matter further, if you don't mind. How does Friday after school sound?"
"Fine," Kurt rolled his eyes, "Thank you. Goodbye." Kurt hung up and cursed under his breath.
~0~
"Why are we at the beach?" Bruce asked as he took a seat on the towel Kurt had laid out.
Kurt smiled, "You're the one who wanted me to participate in more teen-like activities, teenagers from the coast go to beach on Saturdays."
"True," Bruce nodded, taking the tube of sunscreen Kurt handed him, "when it's sunny."
"You want to talk about weather appropriateness," Kurt quirked a brow, "On Wednesday you were sitting on the porch in a wife-beater."
"It was almost sunny on Wednesday," Bruce countered.
"But the temperature is higher today," Kurt said with a victorious grin.
"Touché," Bruce shrugged.
"Besides," Kurt smiled as he applied sunscreen to his limbs, "I like the beach on cloudy days."
"Why?"
"The ocean seems more honest like this," Kurt smiled, "the sand isn't as temperamental and the combination of it all reminds me of my mother."
"I hope you don't mind my asking," Bruce began, "but how?"
"She was a very cold woman, brutally honest," Kurt smiled, "You couldn't help being drawn in by her, in her own twisted way she was charming and charismatic."
"She sounds like quite the woman," Bruce said, trying his hand at being comforting.
"She was what I needed her to be," Kurt shrugged, "Growing up with my abilities, I needed a firm voice driving me to master them." Kurt laid back on the towel and looked up at the dense, angry clouds, "it started with her, my drive to do the things I do well. She taught me to be disciplined. When you have as much strength as I do, you have to put some work in order to be gentle enough to pass an ordinary human- I played the piano till I could tickle the ivories into submission, trained in martial arts till I knew how to destroy or preserve the human body; I learned the difference between a firm handshake and a bone crushing grip before I was ten because not everybody has my strength."
"Sounds like a lot to take on as a child," Bruce gave a solemn nod.
"I was more traumatised by the things she told me about the Kree and her duty to the imperial army," Kurt chuckled, "she told me about their history as an empire, the culture and built them to be Gods in my eyes." Kurt couldn't meet the man's gaze, "then she told me about how they became a space faring people by massacring an entire race, and stealing the technology they needed from another race- she turned them from angels into monsters. She often told me that she had broken her pledge to serve the empire by siring me; that her station was made of a line of women, that each generation was supposed to use a preserved specimen of female semen to create the next. The job was passed down from mother to daughter and she had broken that chain by laying with an enemy race, siring a son; she told me that they would come for her because of it."
Bruce looked like he wanted to speak but his words were failing him, "She was right, the Accuser Corps did find her and charge her with failing to follow imperial decree. I watched them shoot her in the head and twice in the chest." Bruce was pale but Kurt continued, "she had trained me to be ready for what I needed to say when they tried to conscript me for the Kree Imperial Army; I told them that I was a half breed and that by Kree laws of patrilineal siring, I was ethnically Asgardian. They let me go."
"I don't know what to say to that," Bruce shook his head, "How do you treat a child that way?"
Kurt giggled, "it was the only way she knew, it was the tradition of child rearing in the Kree Empire; it created the kind of adults they wanted; and it was practical given the circumstances she was facing."
"I don't know," Bruce shook his head angrily, "it's just-"
"It's not right," Kurt explained, "I'm sure she could have taught me the same things in a more child friendly way but you also need to take into consideration that I'm telling the story how I remember it, my mother would probably tell it differently, my father another way, and an impartial observer would see it another way.
"She didn't set out to sell me dream and then destroy them," Kurt smiled, "she just recounted our people's history to me, I'm glad she was honest rather than omitting the truth of the atrocities the Kree Empire committed. I'd still be idolising monsters if she hadn't been honest with me." Kurt laid an assuring hand on the man's tense shoulder, "if she hadn't made me learn to control my strength, I would have hurt people and I wouldn't be able to touch people; I couldn't have learned later but things had to happen the way they did because I was going to be starting school with other children and we were on borrowed time already.
"My mother and I had a beautiful relationship," Kurt continued, "we did other things together that no one else can say they did with their mother, she accepted me for who I was and was my best friend at a time when I had no friends. I remember her fondly, but I also remember my version of her truth; who she was to me."
Bruce let out a heavy sigh, but still something weighed his body down, "That's very mature of you."
"I wasn't always at peace with my past, I harboured a lot of resentment both toward her and myself. I blamed myself for not being born female so she could keep up her pretence, then my father wouldn't have lost the love of his life." Kurt shrugged, "I resented her for being selfish enough to entangle herself in our lives, knowing she would be ripped away from us. I eventually came to find peace in that short period that I had her." Kurt opened the cooler box and handed the man a beer.
"I'm not sure what there is to say about my past," Kurt watched the man drink deeply.
"There is something to be said," Kurt gave an encouraging smile, "on that much we can agree, I recognise that look, I saw it in my father's eyes for sixteen years."
Bruce shook his head, "Kurt-"
"You don't have to talk to me about it," Kurt tried put the man at ease, "you don't have to say anything to anyone but you need to make peace with it." Kurt took Bruce's hand between both of his, "then you can let it go."
Bruce's hand stiffened in Kurt's hands, then it clenched into a fist, "I can't think about it." He shook his head, "I wouldn't be able to keep the other guy in check if I did."
"Maybe you shouldn't be trying to control him," Kurt rubbed small circles the back of the man's hand, slowly coaxing it open, "maybe you should consider embracing him."
"Embrace him?" Bruce scoffed, "Embracing the Hulk? You can't begin to understand the monster you're talking about."
"I can't," Kurt agreed, he held the man's hand tightly in his fingers, "but the hulk is inside you, he's a part of you." Kurt moved closer to the man, "I don't think you're a monster, so I don't think he is either; even if he's made up of the worst parts of you, I think there is good in him."
"You're too much of an optimist," Bruce chuckled.
"You're too willing to believe the worst of yourself," Kurt countered, "Why is that?"
"I know why I believe what I believe," Bruce's voice had an authority that caught Kurt off guard; he knew that tone and it said not to ask any more questions because he had crossed a line.
"I'm sorry if I crossed a line," One of Kurt's hands moved to the man's shoulder but the other held onto the man's hand, "but don't use whatever you believe about yourself as a crutch, don't let it keep you from walking up right."
"I shouldn't have lost my temper with you," Bruce rubbed his eye with his free, "all things considered, it isn't very wise of me."
Kurt laid on his back again, he pulled Bruce's hand onto his chest and the man stared down at him from his sitting position. They both felt Kurt's steady heartbeat through his ribs, "I'm not afraid." His heartbeat was slow and steady, calming, "whether I have one large three chambered heart or ten little twelve chambered hearts, I want you to feel them beating on as normal because as long as you are honest with me I know I have nothing to fear." Bruce stared intensely at him, "I'm not afraid of you, and I'm not afraid of the other guy either."
Bruce laid down beside him, Kurt moved their hands from his own chest to the other man's, "have you not seen the things he-" Bruce's heart sped up for a moment, "we've done, we're a monster."
"Being green, angry or destructive doesn't make you a monster," Kurt countered, "No more than being an alien with superhuman abilities. You were deprived of the opportunity to truly understand and embrace your gift. When they came for you with guns and treated you like a fugitive, when you had to go on the run and live your life in hiding, you were deprived of that moment after your catalysing moment where you make peace with what has happened to you and what you have become as a result."
Bruce gaped at him, "You think he's a gift?"
"Yes," Kurt squeezed the in his, "I think that we can always look at the events in our lives as a blessing or a curse." Kurt turned Bruce to face him, looking directly into the man's tired brown eyes, "I don't know about you but I like to look at the ones that affect the rest of my life as blessings rather than burdensome curses, I like to focus on the silver lining."
"Lining clouds with silver makes them heavy," Burt smirked.
"Heavy clouds bring rain," Kurt countered, "and rain brings life."
There was an amicable silence between them, Kurt stared intently at Bruce; his eyes combing through the man's scruff like his fingers wished they could, learning his facial features and coming to know his face.
"What now?" Bruce's voice snapped Kurt from his stupor.
"Now?"
"How do we begin?"
"We lay here," Kurt flashed a shy smile, "your hand on my heart, and my hand in yours." Kurt and Bruce moved into position, "we close our eyes and let the past, the future and everything other than the beach towel we're laying on melt away. Let every thought melt away, only this moment exists; listen to our hearts as they beat in sync."
Kurt listened to his words and the world around him disappeared; the waves stopped crashing, the wind stopped blowing, and nature was gone. The only sensation on Kurt's skin was Bruce hand in his left hand, on his chest, and Bruce's hand enveloping Kurt's right hand, on his chest. His eyes saw nothing but darkness, the sound was gone except for their heart beats, the smell of the ocean had dissipated and taste in mouth was pure. For that moment they were in a sensory purgatory, outside the living world.
Kurt felt Bruce's hands growing but neither of them moved as this happened, they stayed perfectly still- divorced from their bodies, just two spirits lying next to each other. Kurt noted when the man stopped growing but did not move or react, he remained immersed in their little world.
Kurt opened his eyes and propped his head up on his shoulder and looked into the Hulk's green eyes in the same way he had Bruce's a few moments, "I'm not afraid of you." The Hulk was almost three feet taller than Bruce had been, looked to weigh more than ten times what the man did; Kurt took his significantly larger hand in both of his, as he had done with Bruce's, first bringing it to his chest to feel his steady heart beat and then moving it to the hulk's chest to feel his heart beat. Kurt smiled, cupping the hulks confused face, "I like you when you're angry."
~0~
Kurt raised his head from his dinner at the sound of the doorbell, the three of them exchanged looks but none of them moved, "I'm not doing it." Kurt's voice had a bite of sass, "I can't answer the phones, buy your clothes and get the door; you might get the idea that I work here."
"I thought it was because you were the youngest," his father countered, the door bell ringing in the background, "Would you like to see your aging and ailing father stumbling to get the door?"
"I'll get it," Bruce put down his cutlery.
"No," Kurt snapped, "you're a guest. My father, who hasn't aged a day in millennia, will get the door."
His father put down his cutlery, "why would I do that when I have an able-bodied son?"
"Because I do everything else around here," Kurt's smile had an edge to it, the doorbell still ringing in the background, "would you like to make your own meals or buy your own seahorse pyjamas?"
"You can make all the threats you want but the seahorses are off the table," Burt got up and left the room to open the door.
Bruce flashed Kurt a confused look, "Do you have something to say?"
"No," he shook his head, "I'm good."
"You have a guest Kurt," his father appeared with Charlie beside him.
"I have an idea," Charlie beamed at them.
"Good evening to you too Charlie," Kurt gave the excitable boy a once over, "Have you eaten dinner?"
"I could eat," Charlie's face contorted in confusion.
"I'll get you a plate," Kurt smiled, "Dad, would you get a him a place setting?"
Kurt got up and walked into the kitchen, he wondered what had possessed Charlie to show up at his house this late in the evening. What had been so important that he hadn't been able to wait till tomorrow but the boy could not tell him earlier in school?
Kurt returned to the dining room to find everyone waiting for him in silence, "Bruschetta with prosciutto, swiss chard and feta."
"You made this?" Charlie gawked at him.
"It's toasted bread with cheese, ham and spinach on it," Kurt scoffed, "I didn't cure cancer."
"It is delicious," Bruce smiled at him.
"Don't suck up," Kurt pursed his lips. He turned to Charlie, "you said you have an idea."
"Oh yes," Charlie swallowed food in his mouth before continuing, "it's about the inhumans, I read a lot more of the files SHIELD has on the matter and it appears that they're working with or against this other Government agency called the Advanced Threat Containment Unit to help these inhumans."
"Is this about your little reading and researching project?" his father had the smile of a man who was proud of himself, Kurt loved how his dad tried to be father of the year by knowing what was going on in Kurt's life.
"It's an extrapolation of it," Kurt explained, "we hacked into the new SHIELD to find out about the recent news of aliens."
"SHIELD is still a thing?" his father spluttered, his mind caught up to his panic and the next words were at a volume that was not suitable for the dinner table, "And you hacked into them!"
"Calm down," Kurt rolled his eyes, "we used a back door through Stark Industries which has clearance, no need to raise your voice."
"Why would you do that?" his father was a high-pitched squeal, "What would possess you to hack into Stark Industries to get to SHIELD?"
"I don't know if you heard me saying that the Government was looking for human-passing aliens," Kurt quirked a brow at his father, "I went in to see if I was one of those aliens."
"I thought we went in because we were curious," Charlie furrowed his brow.
"A bit of both," Kurt shrugged. He assumed a more serious demeanour, "now, what is this plan of yours?"
"Can I have some more of this?" Charlie lifted and empty plate.
Kurt furrowed his brow, "Gluttony is a sin."
"You're an atheist," his father countered, "I will get you more Prosciutto."
"Bruschetta," Kurt corrected, "Prosciutto is one of the toppings."
"You know what I mean," his father rolled his eyes.
"I really do but as Charlie pointed out, correcting people is one of my only hobbies," Kurt turned back to the boy in question, "You were saying?"
"We could help them in this corner of the world," Charlie grinned like a kid at Christmas.
"You've lost your mind," Kurt rolled his eyes, "We don't have the resources to complete an operation like that." Kurt looked his friend squarely in the eyes, "We can feed them intelligence but we don't have the means to locate, council, sedate and transport a super powered human."
"My mom's a doctor," Charlie shrugged, "That could help with the sedation part."
"Not if she wants to keep her licence to practice medicine," Bruce countered.
"Son," his father said as he placed a plate in front of the boy, "What do you think SHIELD will do if they start receiving sedated inhumans from undisclosed source?"
"It's not the best plan," Kurt nodded to himself as he tried to see things from Charlie's perspective. He turned to his father and Bruce, "but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. If we can read SHIELD's extraction plan, between the four of us we can replicate it."
"How did your dad become a part of this?" Bruce asked with a furrowed brow, "I know I got roped in when I helped you hack into Stark Industries."
"His skill set is unique and he's very powerful," Kurt reclined in the dining room chair, "he'd be valuable to us."
"You're really doing this," Bruce was flabbergasted.
Kurt nodded his head, "Do you really want more people to go through that terrifying moment when you realised that you aren't like the majority of the population, all alone like you had to?"
"I thought you've always known you were different," Bruce leaned forward.
"Having superhuman abilities isn't the only way I'm different from the majority of the population," Kurt bit his bottom lip and Bruce pursed his in response.
"Are we doing this?" Charlie squealed excited.
Kurt broke his eye contact with Bruce to meet Charlie's gaze and for a moment he caught a glimpse of the sour look on his father's face, "We'll need a restraint that negates the people we capture's powers and we'll need a plan of action but yes, we're doing this."
"I can come up with a schematic that can work with the willing and the unwilling," Bruce acquiesced, "Need some help from your father to get it done soon." The man was unresponsive, "right Burt?"
"Sure," Kurt watched his father nodding to himself.
"Side bar," Kurt glared at his father and nodded to the kitchen, "if you'll excuse us."
Kurt could hear his father's heavier footsteps following him into the kitchen, Kurt pulled himself on to the counter and squared up with his fathers weathered face, "You don't like the idea of working on this."
His father shook his head, "I can't say I do."
"You know," Kurt flashed his father a shy smile, "It's one thing when a brave man stands up and fights but it's something special when a fearful man stands up to defend what is right."
"Who said that?"
"Me," Kurt had a cheeky grin on his face, "Didn't you just hear me saying it?"
"I remember the day I took you to the circus for the first time," his father laboured the breath that followed, "you were fascinated by the trapeze artists and wanted nothing more than to be one of them, I was so afraid you would get hurt, but you dedicated yourself to gymnastics for the next five years because of it." His father let out a sad chuckle, "Every time I watched you fall in the beginning, my heart stopped."
"Daddy," Kurt cupped his father's cheek, "I'm made of the right stuff, I know it's your job to worry about me so asking you to do otherwise would be futile."
"I saw it," his father admitted, "the way you looked at each other."
Kurt's breath caught, "I don't know-"
"I know better than to believe your ignorance," his father's voice was firm.
"I wouldn't patronise you that way," Kurt countered, "I was going to say that I don't know if it really means anything, what it means if it does, or if it's even going anywhere."
"What do you think?"
"I think he makes me feel like the ground I stand on is all there is," Kurt's hand clapped over his mouth and he breathed through his fingers to steady himself.
"That's what it feels like just before you fall," his father teased, "It's not my job to try and stop you, but if he hurts you I will be here to help you pick up the pieces- that's my job."
"You don't think he's too old for me?" Kurt joked.
"It doesn't help that his age makes him comfortable calling me Burt but I was centuries older than your mother when we fell in love," his father shrugged, "I can't judge, I just wish you were falling for someone who hadn't been through as many terrible things as Bruce has; he's broken."
Kurt held his father's hand in both of his, as he had Bruce and the Hulk's hands a few days ago on the beach, "Aren't we all broken?"
I hope you like it; Reviews are love!