Sorry this is so short guys! I hope you like it anyways!
"Hey homo!" Kurt's walking home after school when Karofsky and what Kurt liked to call his 'minions' come up behind him.
Kurt keeps walking briskly, ignoring them. "We heard about your daddy problems!" Just keep walking, Kurt, just keep walking, he thinks numbly. "Was mommy not there to hold you? Poor little Kurtie is such a fag that mommy wanted to die, and daddy doesn't want him anymore. Poor baby!" Kurt turns around.
"What did you just say?" He growls.
"I said, you are the reason your mother killed herself! She didn't want a little sick abomination for a son!" Kurt sees red for a second and all of a sudden Karofsky's nursing a bloody nose and Kurt's running. He doesn't know where he's going; he just knows that he has to get out of there.
They're right, a voice inside his head says, poor Elizabeth didn't want you! Nobody wants you! All she wanted was a normal child!
He sees his car, parked a few blocks from the school, and realizes he just ran all the way to his car. He stops and pants, finally letting the tears stream down his cheeks. Just when he thought they'd forgotten, just when he'd started to move on...
Kurt's mother had chronic depression. When she killed herself, all she left was a note with two sentences on it: I love you Kurt & Burt. I'm sorry it had to end this way.
He drove as fast as he could back home. He let himself in, and ignoring Blaine, ran up the stairs to his room sobbing. Blaine didn't know. He didn't understand why Blaine was friends with him, why he had taken him in, when he was just a screw-up!
"That's all I am," Kurt sobs.
"Kurt?" Blaine knocks lightly on the door. "May I come in?" Kurt panics.
"One second!" He goes into the bathroom and washed his face, trying to make himself look normal. Once he's moderately satisfied, he calls, "Come in!"
"I, um... you... I was just uh, making sure you were okay..." Blaine seemed incredibly nervous.
"I'm fine." Kurt snaps. "Please just leave me alone."
"Okay." Blaine whispers, walking out.
That day was never mentioned again.
Burt Hummel paces around his living room. You idiot! He thinks. How could you throw your son- your last connection to your deceased wife- out onto the streets! Kurt's right, Elizabeth would be ashamed!
He sighs and puts his head in his hands.
"What have I done?" He moans. He'd been so angry in the moment; his son, his perfect son, was gay. He wasn't a little boy anymore; he wasn't the squirming infant that Burt had held in his hands the day he was born.
But Elizabeth would've loved Kurt just the same. If he'd done this when she was still alive, she'd probably divorce him. She'd loved her son with every fiber of her being. They had all thought she was over he depression- but one day Burt came home… and she was gone, dead, sprawled out on the bed with a fistful of pills. No one knows why.
Burt shook all thoughts of Elizabeth from his head, just like he'd been doing for the past nine years.
He had to get Kurt back, he simply had to. There was nothing he wouldn't do. But he knew his stubborn son would never forgive him- and quite frankly, he didn't blame Kurt for that. He blamed himself. Sighing, he turns on the television and tries to drown out his thoughts and focus on the baseball game- but all he can focus on is the fact that the players are wearing stirrup pants.