Chapter Thirteen

October 4th, 2010

Carole had been sitting in the room for the past hour, talking quietly with Burt, when the doctor stepped in and smiled at them both. "Mr. Hummel we've run a battery of exams and while you're not back to 100%, I'm pleased to say we feel comfortable releasing you later today." Burt smiled at Carole who was grinning in excitement, "There are however, some conditions."

"Okay…"

"You can only come in and see your son once a day for two hours at a time until we release him. You need your rest as does he. A nutrionist is coming by in an hour to talk about some foods that are healthier for you to eat, and you're also going to start working out. Steadily at first, we don't want to trigger another arrythimia, but with exercise and food as well as some medications you'll be on, you shouldn't any further issues."

"Medications?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Hummel. Once you've had the heart attack, your heart isn't the same, it requires daily medication."

Burt sighed, "I suppose if that's the worst of it. How long before I can return to work?"

"I think if you agree to stick to the desk for the next couple weeks, that probably by the end of the month after your follow up exam, you should be able to return to some of your lighter jobs. I'd perfer you not deal with anything heavy until after the New Year."

Burt figured he could do that. "All right," as long as it meant staying healthy.

"Also we need to cut down on stress, now I'm aware you have two teenagers," Burt chuckled softly. "However, you the less stress you're under then the better off you are."

"Great two over dramatic teenagers and I'm supposed to avoid stress," Burt joked.

"Do your best, and as always should you have any questions please feel free to contact us."

Burt suddenly remembered something, "Doc, if you could…could you call this psychologist, I'd like to speak with him."

The doctor looked down at the card Burt had just handed him and smiled, "He's one of the best. I'll contact him now."

"Thank you doctor."

"A psychologist?" Carole asked once the doctor left, "Are you all right?"

Burt nodded, "It's for Kurt…the pyschologist deals exclusively with gays and hate crimes…I know Kurt, he'll act fine but he won't be. I want to make sure we take good care of him after everything he's been through."

Carole smiled, "You're a good father, Burt Hummel."

"That's what I'm told," he joked playfully.

Shaking her head she lay down on the bed with him, arms wrapped around one another and they smiled. "The house is rather empty without you."

"I can't believe he stayed there by himself for two nights…God that kid."

"He's stubborn Burt. He doesn't want to be a problem for anyone."

"I know, I just wish he'd realize the worry he gives me sometimes it the biggest burden."

"Don't tell him that, you'll kill him."

Burt shook his head, "Never. God I love that kid. We had a fight right before…the attack."

"About?"

"Friday night dinners, damn things. So stupid, and I had to get into it with him."

Carole sighed, "Burt they aren't stupid, his mother started them. He's just a teenager he can't see past shopping and friends. And now from the sounds of it he's going to have a boyfriend, he's growing up."

"I know, but…"

"I understand. I don't think either of you are right or wrong, just try and be flexible with one another."

"Such a mother, Angie'd say the same thing."

"It's an instinct picked up."

"What's that, brains?"

"Always being right." She giggled as he rolled his eyes.

o0o

Kurt was sitting up in bed. He was poking his food weakly with his good hand when the doctor stepped into the room, "How's my patient today?"

"Miserable," He replied weakly.

"What's wrong?" She questioned taking his vitals, "Everything looks good. I have to say for someone who was nearly dead two days ago you're making a remarkable recovery."

"Great, when can I go home?" he practically begged.

"It's going to be awhile, Kurt. I'm sorry but you're still mending, those ribs have to heal a little more, we'll take more x-rays of your chest later today.""

"Whatever," he mumbled.

"What's going on Kurt?" she asked, suddenly concerned about her patient. She was used to kids, especially teenagers. But Kurt was different; he only acted daramatic when nothing bothered him. When something was really upsetting him, he clamed up like Fort Knox.

"I'm fine."

She chuckled softly. "I've noticed when it comes to most teenagers the term "fine" really means I'm angry, scared, frustrated or another adjective but fine." The glare he gave her confirmed her suspicions. "Your father is being released today." Kurt's eyes went wide, "I thought that would get your attention, he's doing very well. We don't anticipate any other trouble with his heart for now. They're limiting him to two hour visitions to you daily though."

Kurt didn't like the sound of that, he feared his father would return home and die without someone there. He closed his eyes and turned his head away from her. He heard the doctor sigh. "Kurt, you're going to be here probably another five days for sure, most likely another week depending on your lungs and that's if everything continues to go well. I know you think you're fine, but a lot of damage was done, and I have the feeling judging by your lack of response, not all of it was done in here," She pointed to his lungs. "I want to know when I release you that you're going to be okay."

"I'm fine!" He stated glaring at her. But his eyes shone with tears, belying the pain he was really feeling.

She nodded, "Fine, I'll leave you alone. As always hit the call button if you need something."

When he heard the door close, Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, and rolled on his side, feeling the tears welling up. He was going to be alone a majority of the day…it hurt. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the attack, he could still feel it; the pain of the beating, the fear of death and the pain of a bullet piercing his skin. A small part of him was afraid his father was still upset about Friday night. Tears burned the back of his eyes as they began to drip against the pillow as he remembered every slur, every painful moment.

"Kurt?" A soft voice called through the dark room to him. He shut his eyes against the voice of Carole Hudson; she was the last person he wanted to see. He wanted his father or mother. "Honey, your dad's talking to some people right now, so I thought I'd come check on you."

'Mom would've stayed with him' he couldn't help but think. "Please leave," he whispered, wishing his voice didn't sound so small and lost.

"Kurt, what's wrong?"

He shook his head, his back still to her. She stepped closer and reached out to touch him, which he immediately tried to avoid. She withdrew her hand out of concern, "Are you in pain?"

"No," He lied. He was it was rapidly becoming immeasurable.

"Kurt-"

"Please," He whispered, "Please leave me alone." He felt dirty, maybe everyone was right. Maybe the whole reason all of this had happened was because God hated him for not believing, for being gay. He closed his eyes to that thought, but he honestly didn't want to believe that…but then the vision of the men around him yelling at him…if God did exist he certainly didn't want anything to do with him.

"I can go get the doctor-"

"GO AWAY!" He yelled his face still turned away. He was thankful that she didn't see the tears of pain make trails down his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose.

Carole closed her eyes, suddenly very concerned and made her way back to Burt's room. She knew he wasn't supposed to be stressed but Kurt was his boy, and he had every right to know what the child was going through.

"Burt," she said softly.

Dr. Leland was a pyschologist probably in his thirties, he glanced up as the door opened, and smiled warmly at the woman who'd just answered. Burt, who'd been sitting on the bed essentially interrogating Dr. Leland looked at her. "Carole, I thought you were checking in on Kurt?" Burt replied.

"He's…" she looked at the doctor. "Burt I don't think he's as well as the doctor's think. He threw me out of the room, it's dark and he seems very upset."

"Doc-"

The pyschologist smiled in understanding. "It's not my time to meet him yet. When you think he's ready Mr. Hummel. Perhaps you should go see to your son."

"You're hired," was all Burt said as he stood slowly and made his way out of the room.

Carole went with Burt, making sure he didn't fall. Burt looked into the room, the blinds were drawn and closed, the lights off except for a single one over Kurt's bed. His back was turned to the door and he was completely still. "I'll wait out here," Carole offered quietly.

He nodded, agreeing it'd be a good idea. Stepping inside, he closed the door and reached out to put his hand on his son's shoulder. "I hear you're feeling kinda grumpy."

"Please leave me alone," this time the voice wasn't nearly as sure as Kurt would've liked it. His father always had a way of dealing with him differently than everyone else; he always made the pain go away.

Burt nodded and took a seat in the chair by the bed, looking at Kurt's taut back. Reaching out, in simple instinct he began to gently massage Kurt's lower back, gentle of any of his injuries, making sure to miss those spots. He moved up to Kurt's neck and did the same, with each motion of his hand he felt Kurt's muscles grow lose. "What's going on in that hairspray fogged brain?"

He heard a small laugh that sounded halfway to a sob. "Can I come over and look at you?" Kurt shook his head, closing his eyes against the wave of dizziness that caused. Burt nodded, "Okay…well would you be willing to roll over." The head shake was smaller this time.

"I can't fix it if you don't talk to me kiddo."

Kurt closed his eyes his breath hitching in a sob. He cried sniffling and feeling disgusting. His felt his father rest his hand on his waist. "Please don't touch me," He whimpered.

Burt scooted off the chair and took a seat on the edge of the bed, leaning closer to the boy, "I haven't held you, talked to you or squeezed your shoulder in a fatherly way for over a week kiddo. Suffice to say, I miss that connection. Why can't I touch you, is it because you're in pain?" Kurt slowly met his father's eyes and shook his head. "What's going on, Kurtie?" he knew his son hated that nickname, but it always made his child respond.

"I'm sorry daddy."

"Sorry for what baby?" it worried Burt more than he cared to admit that his son was reverting back to calling him daddy. He hadn't done that since he'd been eight. "What's going on that has you so upset?"

Kurt looked at him, his face was messy, his eyes damp, he looked positively gutted, but he spoke full sentences this time, "I'm sorry dad, I'm sorry about that day…I shouldn't have been so mean…I don't believe in God dad…" He looked at his father.

Burt gently gripped his son, rubbing his arms, "That's okay, Kurt. I don't either."

Kurt shook his head, "I don't believe in God dad, but I believe in you and I believe in us. You and me, that's what's sacred to me," He sobbed softly, "And I'm so sorry I never got to tell you that," He sobbed.

Burt sighed, leaning over he hugged his child the best that he could, holding him as he sobbed. He looked at his son after a few minutes, pressing his forehead to Kurt's, "The relationship you and I have…Kurt," he smiled sadly, his own eyes burning with tears. "You're my buddy, my boy…that little baby I got up for thirteen times in one night to make sure he was still there and okay. I'd do it all over again. I know you're a teenager, and I'm sorry I made you feel so guilty. We're okay Kurt. I promise you. We're okay."

Kurt gave a small hiccup sob, "kay."

Burt smiled and pressed his lips to his son's forehead. "Come on now, no more crying, I think you've done enough crying, don't you?"

Kurt gave a small nod, and Burt smiled as he wiped the tears away. "My sweet boy, don't ever think an argument will ruin what we've got. We're going to be okay, I promise." Burt sat back up and looked at his son. "I'd like to talk to you about something if you feel up to it?"

Kurt glanced around, and then gave a slow nod. Reaching out, Burt gave him a small glass of ice chips. "Noah only gave me the bare details of what occurred to put you here and I can only begin to imagine what you remember. Kurt that's a lot to handle for a boy, it would be a lot to handle for a man my age. I think maybe it would be best if we spoke to someone about what we went through."

"Like…a shrink?"

"A psychologist, I know we've tried in the past after your mother died. But I think it'd be best for both of us, this doctor specializes in hate crimes against gay children."

Kurt's eyes watered, "I don't wanna not be gay."

Burt smiled, "I've talked to him Kurt, he's got a very interesting history, and I wouldn't worry about there being any changing of sexualities. It wouldn't be just for you, I may talk to him a little too, and about ways I can help you overcome this…how to continue to be close to my son. mMybe even how to talk about boys."

Kurt gave a weak smile, "Maybe just…one boy."

"I had a hunch…he's been hanging around a lot."

"We're not dating."

"Not yet…but I think he's going to break you on that."

Kurt gave a sad smile, "Dad, I think I'd be okay with that."

Burt leaned down and kissed his son's head again. "You aren't alone anymore Kurt, you should've have been to begin with. We're here to help."

"You're going home today."

"I'm going to make sure the house is spotless for your anal-retentive tendencies."

"Spic-n-span," He joked.

"I love you."

Kurt nodded, "I missed you dad."