Chapter Six
A small part of Puck felt like he should be torturing the kid that was now fast asleep in his bed. Kurt had been practically unconscious by the time his mother had arrived. They'd brought Kurt into the house and put him in Puck's bed. Puck didn't mind sleeping on the couch. He was used to it with his little sister when she had nightmares. Sometimes they'd stay up all night, and other times she'd sleep on his chest while he sang to her.
"Noah, you okay?" Sarah questioned, stepping into the bedroom. Her son was staring down at Kurt who slept no doubt for the several days.
Puck took a slow deep breath. "We could've all been in very different situations. It easily could've been you that died, or even Dad. I don't know how he's doing it."
Sarah offered Noah a tight smile and rubbed his back gently. "Life is painful sometimes. I think Kurt is much stronger than anyone gives him credit for because he lost his mother. When a spouse walks away, whether abandonment, or death or divorce," she paused, "something is always lost. Come on let's get to sleep. Kurt's going to need us."
Kurt rolled over the next morning, surprised to find that he wasn't in his own bed...or his own house. Squinting at the sun streaming through the window, he blinked for a moment, before realizing that the sun was clearly coming from a second story bedroom. He glanced around the room, trying to keep a sense of panic at bay. He looked over at a chair to see a Metallica shirt...a very familiar shirt. Then he recalled what had happened last night, he was in Noah Puckerman's room. "Oh god, what did I do," he whispered.
"Nothing," stated Puck, as he stepped into the room. "Relax, dude, before you spaz. You slept here last night after my mom and Artie's mom found you at the grave yard. They're worried about you...and to be honest I'm a little bummed myself."
"Thanks," Kurt replied he stood and headed into the shower. Puck nodded and waited for him to disappear before heading downstairs to the kitchen.
"How is he?" Sarah questioned.
"I don't know," Noah stated. "I've never seen him like this. The kid gets chucked into garbage bins daily but this...this is unlike anything I've seen...since his mom died."
Sarah nodded. "The hospital called. His grandmother arrived early this morning. I thought we'd drop Kurt off, and then if he wanted he could head to school halfway through the day."
"He'd probably like that. I'll talk to him."
"What do you two want for breakfast?"
"Kurt already eats like a bird, just give me an apple for him and a bacon, egg and cheese bagel would be good for me."
She shook her head. "If you don't eat better you're going to be next." She waved her spatula at him before kissing his cheek. "Go wake your sister before you head back upstairs. She needs to get ready for school."
It was twenty minutes later when the teenagers were in Puck's car headed to the hospital. "Ma' says your grandma arrived early this morning. So we figured she could drop you off at school later today if you wanted."
"Thanks, Puck," Kurt mumbled.
Puck pulled up in front of the hospital and parked, looking at Kurt for a long time. "I get it, dude. You're having a rough spot, but it's not going to help you if you push everyone else away right now."
Kurt's laugh was bitter. "That's rich, coming from you. What do you think you did when your dad left?"
"I was eight!" snapped Puck.
"You were a jerk! You're still a jerk, Puckerman. You don't ever do anything without a motive. So what's your goal, want to see Hummel sad and depressed and get a good shot at kicking him while he's down! Go ahead," his words shook with anger, frustration and a hint of exhaustion. "Because there isn't much left you can do to me that's any worse than this." He waved his hand towards the hospital. "You think after five years of chucking me into garbage, nailing furniture to my roof and throwing pee balloons at me that suddenly we're going to be okay? Think again!"
Puck had the decency to look somewhere between guilty and frustrated. "I haven't done any of that since I started glee."
"So that makes it all better?" Kurt growled. "You humiliated me! You called me names and now you think I should just let you waltz back into my life!" Kurt stopped, cutting off his final words. He wasn't ready to admit that to anyone, much less Puckerman.
"Kurt, I'm trying to help." Puck had learned a lot in juvie, and one of the things had been if you don't ask for help you didn't get any. "Look I'm an asshole, I get it. I'm not asking for sainthood or anything. I'm asking you to let me make it up to you. Let me prove myself to you."
"I don't want anything from you," Kurt ground out as he opened the car door and started to get out. The only thing stopping him was Puck's hand on his wrist.
"If you do, I'm a phone call away, dude."
"Don't call me dude," Kurt mumbled as he got out and slammed the door behind him, clutching his bag closer and walking rapidly into the hospital memories washing over him like a tidal wave.
"Today's my birthday," Kurt grinned as he sat down at the picnic table right outside. Noah Puckerman smiled as he sat down beside his friend.
"I know, you told me Friday before we went home. Spo, what did you get for your birthday?" Noah asked excitedly as he opened his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles backpack. He grinned pulling a card he'd made out of construction paper and crayons.
"Daddy bought me a new pair of Ralph Lauren pants and a pair of dress shoes. He said no high heels this year." The boy's face became sad, he'd been hoping for another pair, he'd outgrown the ones his mom bought before she died. His dad called it a growth support or something.
"I made you somethin'," Noah offered putting, the pink construction paper in front of him.
Kurt's eyes went wide with happiness.
Daer Kurt
Happy Bithdy, Loev u!
Noah
Kurt grinned and threw his arms around Noah's neck. "Thank you, I love it!" Noah instantly returned the hug, grinning at the thought that his friend liked it so much. Kurt pressed a kiss to Noah's cheek and smiled.
"Happy Birthday, Kurt," Noah replied giving Kurt a quick peck on the lips.
Love wasn't much of a real concept at the age of eight, but Noah couldn't shake that even at that age he'd understood his feelings for Kurt had been a little deeper than friendship. "DAMN IT!" Puck yelled, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. It felt like every time he tried to do a good deed he only succeeded in frustrating Kurt and making everything worse. Why was he even helping? With one last glance at the hospital entrance, he pulled away from the hospital.
Kurt, on the other hand, was in a whirl of thoughts and emotions as he stepped into his father's hospital room a few minutes later. He looked at his father and felt the tears start anew. He sank into the chair and began to sob, losing all semblance of control that he had left. "I know this wasn't your choice, Dad, but please I'm not ready. I'm not ready," he cried burying his face once again in his father's neck.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, losing any control he had left, but he was startled when he heard a soft voice behind him. "Hello Darling," she said in an elegant and refined tone.
He looked over his shoulder, positive he looked terrible with a blotchy face. He forced a weak smile. "Hi, Grandma," he replied before standing and nearly collapsing in her arms as she held him close.
"Hush now, dear. You're always so strong, what has you so upset?"
"Nothing, I'm sorry."
"Shh," she crooned, softly rubbing his back. "You're all right. Come now, your father can wait a few more minutes. Lets take a walk and talk for a little while, after all I haven't seen you in a couple years, we should catch up a little."
He chuckled weakly and nodded, accepting her hand and walking down the hallway with her. His grandmother always had a beautiful voice and was such an elegant woman. "How long can you stay?" he asked quietly.
"Just tonight, I'm afraid, dear."
He smiled and nodded. "You'll give Grandpa Joe a hug and kiss?"
"For you, me and your father."
The back side of the hospital had a small park with a Labyrinth circle. Kurt stepped onto the patio, not even noticing it and sitting on a bench beside her. "I just feel so alone and desperate. Up until yesterday night I was sleeping at the house alone...if that's what you wanna call it. It's so empty."
"And now you're staying with friends."
"Yeah...well no."
She studied him briefly. "Explain?"
Kurt closed his eyes. "Well I should probably start with I'm gay."
She looked at him. "Yes I knew that. How did it get complicated? I want to know about that."
He couldn't help but laugh as he hugged her. "How did everyone know before me?"
Claire pressed a kiss to his hair. "Darling, your grandfather and I watched you grow up. There was no question in our minds. But we still love you, and your father has come very far in raising you. We're proud of you Now, tell me."
"The guy I'm staying with... He was the first boy I ever kissed when I was nine. He kissed me on my birthday. And he dropped me off this morning and we got into a fight because he hasn't been a very good friend these past several years and suddenly he wants to be."
"Do you want him to be?"
Kurt shrugged with one shoulder. "Yeah, but I don't want to get hurt again."
"You still care for him."
"Yes."
"Does he?"
"I honestly don't know. He's not just a friendly person. He does things with a purpose and generally not good one. I'm just so afraid to get hurt that I don't know how to accept his sudden onset of kindness."
"You think this Puck isn't capable of being a friend?"
Kurt sighed heavily, "I don't know. I want to think he can, but another part of me," he shrugged. "That part of me that used to like him has been cut off to stop any pain."
"Kurt, I've learned that some of the best relationships develop during or after tragedy. Perhaps this boy hasn't come upon these feelings suddenly, but rather he's always felt them, and now he feels it's okay to try and express them without you panicking."
"I'm panicking."
"Yes, I see that," she joked gently. "Do you like him?"
Kurt sighed. "I never stopped...and believe me I really tried."
"Let us look at it this way then. Right now you are going through a very difficult time, do you feel lonely?"
"And scared."
"Then perhaps it would behoove you to allow this boy in, a little at a time. If he continues to prove himself then allow him to become the friend, but at least allow him to comfort you a little."
"What if I get hurt again?"
She gripped her grandson's hands. "Kurt, I've never told you this—though I'm sure you heard your mother talk. Joseph is not my first husband. He is in fact my second husband, and it was only shortly before you were born that we married after years of simply adoring one another. Sometimes pain must be endured to love someone. Would you really want to go through your whole life avoiding love and pain? You'll be miserable."
"I'll try."
"Spot on."
They sat there in silence for several moments before Kurt spoke again. "Do you believe in God?"
She smiled. "I never had much time for religion myself. I'm spiritual, I believe in God...but I'm not religions. Your grandfather doesn't attend church anymore; something about them telling him that his favorite grandson wasn't welcome didn't sit well with him." Kurt grinned. "Have you ever meditated?"
"No."
She pointed to the labyrinth on the ground. "For centuries people have created the mazes. You follow the path and allow your mind to be free. Some people step out with epiphanies. Others just feel stronger once they've done it. It's all about your own personal journey though. Sometimes when I become overwhelmed with your grandfather's illness I walk one of these and I consider why I'm with him and why I love him." She paused and looked at him. "Would you care to take a walk with me?"
"Will you sing?"
She smiled. "I think I can do that." Arms entwined, the two walked as she began to sing softly to him.
Oh yeah, I'll tell you something
I think you'll understand
When I say that something
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
Kurt stood before Glee the next afternoon, before he decided to speak. After talking with his grandmother and walking the labyrinth, he hadn't felt amazing, but he felt a little surer of how he wanted to express himself to his fellow classmates. "On the day of my mom's funeral, I was crying. This was the last time I'd ever see her...and I was sad. I looked up at my dad hoping he'd say something, anything to make it better. But he didn't. Instead, he took my hand. And he just held it...so this is for my father."
Oh yeah, I'll tell you something
I think you'll understand
When I say that something
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
Oh, please, say to me
You'll let me be your man
and please, say to me
"Okay, now pedal, pedal-"
"Let go, Dad!" Kurt grinned from ear to ear.
Letting go, Burt watched his son ride his bike for the first time down the street. "That's it! That's it!" he cried excitedly.
The wobble in the tire was unmistakable, and he watched his sweet little boy crash to the pavement, letting out a pain filled small cry. "Kurt!" he yelled, racing over to his child. He knelt down, looking at the little guy. Hey, hey you okay?" He asked, cupping his son's chin.
Tear filled eyes looked up at him. "Ow," he whimpered, holding up his scraped up palms.
Burt smiled. "Oh, Kurt, come on then." He gently lifted his son under his arms, and steering the bike, made his way back to the house.
"Dad, can I try again tomorrow?"
"Buddy, you can try again as often as you'd like." He carried his son into the bathroom, sat him on the countertop and began to tend to his palms. "Now...how about that tea party?"
Kurt giggled. "You promise you'll play along!"
"Of course!" Burt laughed as he kissed his son's head. "Come on, buddy. Show me how to drink tea properly!"
You'll let me hold your hand
Now let me hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
And when I touch you i feel happy, inside
It's such a feeling
That my love
I can't hide
I can't hide
I can't hide
Yeah you, got that something
I think you'll understand
When I say that something
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
Kurt kept lifting his pinky. Burt laughed out loud at the sight of his son's tiny finger sticking out. "I can't do that," he joked as he kept trying. "The tea cups are too small for me!"
Kurt rolled his eyes, reaching across the table to try and fix it again. "Stop putting the ring finger up, Dad, that's wrong," he giggled.
"Like this?" he asked, holding it properly now.
"That's right!" He smiled warmly at his father.
"What do you want for dinner kiddo?"
"Not chicken!" joked Kurt.
"Why I oughta—" Kurt stood up shrieking as he ran away from his father. Burt grinned as he raced after his boy, grabbing him around the stomach and twirling him through the air. He reveled in the laughter. He felt like sometimes Kurt didn't laugh enough, that he didn't have enough boyish fun.
He chuckled as he tickled his son silly until the child cried uncle playfully, and then reached out to tickle his father back. Finally, they collapsed to the ground in a giggling, exhausted heap. Kurt looked at his father and curled up against his side, leaning his head on his daddy's chest. "You're the best, Dad."
Burt felt his heart swell with pride. That's all he needed to know he was doing all right. "You're the best son. Don't forget to have some fun kid. You're growing way too fast."
"You say that I'll always be your baby."
Burt grinned and he rolled his son over enough so that he was lying on top of his chest. "You will be. Always, my beautiful little boy."
"Even...even if I'm different."
Burt brushed the hair from his son's forehead. "Especially because you're different. That's what makes you my Kurt."
And when I touch you I feel happy, inside
It's such a feeling
That my love
I can't hide
I can't hide
I can't hide
Yeah you, got that something
I think you'll understand
When I say that something
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand.
Kurt closed his briefly before he reopened them and wiped the tears from his cheeks... He saw that everyone else was practically crying too. "Thanks," he managed as he walked out of the room. He escaped to bathroom, where this time he quickly locking the door.
Looking in the mirror he felt the breakdown beginning to bubble up. He closed his eyes. He was so absorbed in his own pain that the hand slamming down on his shoulder made him jump nearly a mile high. "I hear the little freak don't believe in God either!" Azmio's burly figure was grabbing him suddenly and throwing him into the wall.
"Azmio." Kurt's voice came out in a sharp surprised squeak. If the situation hadn't been so worrisome, Kurt would've rolled his eyes at his prepubescent voice.
Azmio's face was filled with hate and something else as he moved towards Kurt. "None of your fellow freaks are around to stop me this time! Maybe I should put you in the hospital like your freak-lovin' daddy—"
"Shut up!" screamed Kurt, suddenly unable to stop himself. "Shut up!" He began to beat his fists against Azmio's chest. Unable to stop screaming and yelling, but it was doing little good. It made Kurt feel better, until Azmio's fist connected with his left cheek. Then his stomach. Another fist hit his face and Kurt dropped to the ground, vaguely aware of someone pounding on the bathroom door.
"Little! Faggot!" Azmio shouted, kicking Kurt in the stomach repeatedly until arms wrapped around his arms and waist.
"Get off him!" Kurt heard a voice growl. Kurt groaned as he rolled over to see Puckerman slam his fist into Azmio nose.
Azmio spouted, "This ain't over freak!" before running out of the room.
Puck looked utterly shaken as he knelt beside Kurt. "Dude?"
Kurt groaned, gripping his ribs. "Don't call me dude."
Despite the concern written all over his features, Puck couldn't help but chuckle.