Disclaimer: Neither Glee or it's characters belong to me, they belong to some people more successful than I am.
Author Notes: This chapter is a little more sentimental than humorous at this stage. A bit fluffy some would say. Any who I hope you like it and as always, feedback is always appreciated. All those who review, thank-you. :D I appreciate it so much. Un-beta-d so mistakes are mine, just let me know if you find any particular horrible ones and I'll fix 'em. Enjoy!!
Chapter Three: Why won't you stop crying?
When they entered Kurt's house they set up camp in the living room. It was a nice open area and Brittany decided she wanted to hang out there, as opposed to Kurt's basement-bedroom. She said it made her feel more "momsy" – what ever that meant. Kurt just smiled (he had learned to just roll with it) and let her play with the doll, while he went into the kitchen to make up the bottle.
The formula they were meant to feed the baby with came in little sachets. It was a powder that you added water to, "special food" as it were. The water had to be a certain temperature for the baby to register it and then log it so the teacher could check and evaluate. Kurt just seemed to think that the whole process was overkill. Couldn't they just fill the bottle with water?
Brittany was currently playing a rousing game of peek-a-boo with the doll. Covering her eyes and enthusiastically cooing, "Where's the baby?" then revealing her face, removing her hands and letting out a very high pitched, "There he is!"
Kurt was smiling to himself as he heard Brittany interact with the doll. He admired that she was not letting the fact that the game was entirely one sided upset her. The little game continued on, Brittany's adorable mantra echoing in the bright, open room. It was however interrupted when Brittany, with an over zealous arm movement, knocked the baby and it let out its first high-pitched wail.
The sound seemed to echo throughout the large empty house, making the sound seem louder and more unpleasant. Brittany sat there for a moment, shocked. Her hands raised to her lips, which were in a perfect 'o' of surprise, eyes wide and frightful with what she had just done.
She quickly scrambled to hold the doll, which had toppled of the couch where she was seated. She cupped Hubert to her chest, rocking him back and fourth, cooing to him. It continued to cry.
"Kurt!" Brittany's voice echoed down the hall. The call sounded desperate, so in his haste to get to Brittany, Kurt left the bottle on the counter and hurried towards the living room.
He found Brittany pacing around the living room cradling the doll eyes welled up with tears. She looked up helplessly at Kurt, she felt so guilty for knocking over Hubert.
"Kurt," she whimpered, "I was playing with him – and I-I-I k-knocked him off the couch!" she let out a small sob, "It was an accident."
"Oh Brittany," Kurt walked over to the girl and wrapped her in a hug. "It's okay, I know it was an accident. Here, hand me Hubert and I'll try to calm him down."
He took the doll from Brittany, and cradled it to his chest. He watched as Brittany went to sit on the couch, she looked absolutely crushed. He was trying to think of a way to comfort her when his thoughts were hounded by the dolls screams. He had to quiet the doll first.
As Kurt was scrounging for ideas to soothe the baby, Brittany piped in, "Maybe if you sing to him, he will feel better. You have a lovely voice Kurt, I always feel happier when you sing."
Kurt turned his head to look at Brittany, who was giving him a watery smile. He was touched by her sentiment and began to sing to the doll a sweet lullaby that he hadn't had sung to him in ten years.
It started out softly at first, just to himself, making sure he new all the words and the flow of the melody. It had been so long since he had heard it. He gained his confidence and began pacing the room, singing the melody louder and rocking the doll to and fro, hoping to subdue the crying. It just wasn't working.
He paused and turned to Brittany, "I don't think it is working. It doesn't seem to have any affect."
Brittany just returned his gaze, a thoughtful expression on her face. She mulled over the details of the situation. Kurt was singing a lovely song, but the baby was still crying. "Maybe he can't hear the song," she said. Her brows knitted together as she tried to piece together the puzzle that was forming in her mind.
She could hear the singing and it was lovely. She thought about what she was using to hear -- her ears! Her face lit up as she announced to Kurt, "I've got it!"
"Got what?"
"I know why the singing isn't working," she stated.
"Go on," Kurt urged.
"I don't think it can hear you, Kurt."
"Come again?"
"I'm not going anywhere, Kurt." Brittany tilted her head to the side, like an adorable, confused puppy.
"It's an expression," Kurt closed his eyes and explained. "What do you mean?"
"I use my ears to hear," she explained, "but Hubert doesn't have any ear holes -- you see?" She pointed towards the dolls ears, which in fact had no holes; they were just hard, plastic ear replicas.
"So what do we do?" Kurt looked over at the girl. "How do we help that?"
Brittany paused as she thought it over. "Well, if you give me a minute," she ventured, "I could go get a pencil and poke some in."
Kurt just stared at Brittany dumbfounded. Did she really just suggest that poking holes where the dolls ears should be would improve its hearing ability? Brittany had the most sincere look on her face and he didn't want to upset her, but the stress that he was feeling and the continuous crying just made him loose it.
He burst out laughing at the absurdity of the statement, the sound ringing over the crying of the doll still clutched to his chest. Brittany looked a little taken aback, but then a smile slowly grew across her face, and she was laughing right along with him.
The pair continued to giggle at the predicament they now had themselves in. It was getting late and they still had a doll that was crying. Suddenly another noise joined the cacophony of sound. Brittany's stomach let out a large growl, begging to be fed.
This just sent Brittany into another fit of giggles, the rumbling noise surprising her. Kurt on the other hand had an epiphany. "The bottle!" he cried, "I'm so stupid – I left it on the counter when you called me in here."
He handed Hubert over to Brittany and walked into the kitchen. Spying the bottle on the counter he quickly grabbed it and brought it back into the living room. Brittany saw the bottle in his hands and made the connection. "Oh, the poor baby's hungry," she said.
She sat down on the couch and beckoned Kurt over with the bottle. She gingerly places the bottle in the dolls mouth and the crying automatically ceased. Kurt relished in the silence and ignored the slight ringing in his ears. The doll began to make a mechanical sucking noise, and Brittany smiled up at Kurt.
"He likes it," she beamed. "That's all he wanted -- He wanted his food, yes he did," she cooed. "I'm so, so sorry, Hubert, for knocking you over," she continued, "It was an accident." She looked up at Kurt, "I must be the worst mother ever. What mother hurts their baby?"
She had such a defeated look on her face and Kurt knew just the thing to cheer he up. He wasn't one for being overly nostalgic about his mother, which was more his dad's forte, but this whole experience had him reflecting on her more and more.
"Well Brittany," Kurt began, "Every mom makes mistakes – heck, and even my mom did. I remember this one time, when I was three; she was gardening in the backyard and accidentally knocked me in the head with her trowel." He smiled at the memory, it was one of those that his dad would think back on and laugh about and Kurt would smile along, just relishing in these moments where he could really remember his mother.
"It was a nice, warm, spring day and she was planting some new plants in her vegetable patch. She had just finished weeding and there was a big garbage bag full of the weeds that she'd pulled out. I thought it would be funny to cover myself in the weeds, sneak up behind her and scare her." He continued a laughing tone in his voice, "So, I go over to the weeds and cover myself in as many that would stay on. I crawl over to my mother, trying to be as scary a monster as possible, and jump up behind her, roaring." Kurt was really getting into the story, his arms gesturing the next few moment, "Then, she spins round with her trowel in her hand, and knocks me over."
Brittany gasped, Kurt just gave her a reassuring smile and continued, "I wasn't hurt too bad, but my mom was quite distraught, I guess my crying didn't quite help matters either. I'm a superficial bleeder, so even the smallest cut bled a lot," he explained, "she thought she had spilt my head right open." He pointed to a scar hidden by his hairline, "That's how I got this scar, see. The next thing I remember is getting my head stitched up in an ER and my dad reassuring my mom that it was an accident. That how was she to know that I was going to sneak up behind her, or that I was in swinging range or something."
He glanced up and looked at Brittany, "So, the point is, that all mom's make mistakes and have accidents while parenting. My mom was the best mom I could have asked for, and even she made a few mistakes, Brit." He gave her a one armed hug and pressed his head against hers, "Don't beat yourself up over it, okay?"
Brittany leaned into his embrace in response, "Thanks, Kurt, I really appreciate it."
"No problem."
They both sat there in silence, watching the doll eat. Even when it had finished its bottle, the two continued to sit there, exhausted, with Kurt's arm around Brittany's shoulders and her head against his. They eventually dosed off, and Burt was greeted with the sight when he came home from the shop.
He smiled at the pair as memories washed over him of him and his wife when Kurt was first born. The boy had a set of lungs on him, and Burt could recall many sleepless nights and family doses on the couch. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over the two, making a note to call Brittany's mother and let her know that Brittany had fallen asleep and that it would best if she could stay the night.
He couldn't bear to wake the two as they both looked exhausted. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the other things that were yet to come. Parenting was a hard gig, and Burt was well aware of it, more so than most, so for now he would let them sleep.