A/N: My idea for this prompt caught me off guard. Lately, my writing is fueled by the fangirl in me, hence the plethora of Klaine and love and happiness in my stories. But this one-shot is fueled by the parent in me. So I found myself writing from a different perspective and touching on feelings that hit a little closer to home. I hope that I brought those feeling to life in this, and that you find something to identify with, whether or not you're a parent. Enjoy! xoxo

Prompt #4: He's at home, scared, terrified, and just wishing that it would stop.

Character(s): Burt and Kurt Hummel

Words: 660

Date: July 25, 2012

Hush Little Baby

The sound was ear-piercing and soul shattering. Burt hugged the wailing infant a little tighter to his chest but that only seemed to make the crying worse. Or maybe it was just that he could now feel the vibration of Kurt's tiny body in every one of his own nerve endings.

"It's okay Kurt. Shhh, it's okay." Burt cooed, unsure if he was trying to convince himself or the baby.

Kurt had been a part of their lives for three weeks. He'd been an abstract part for a lot longer. And although he thought they were ready, no book or lamaze class prepared him for how this tiny person would shrink his entire world with one glance from his ocean blue eyes. Or how his own mood would be so directly connected to that of his child's.

Burt began pacing around the living room. He was home, scared, terrified, and just wishing that the crying would stop. This was his first time on solo daddy duty. Elizabeth needed a break, so her sister had taken her to the mall. Burt had insisted she go. He could handle things for a couple of hours. He wasn't going to be one of those dads who couldn't take care of his own kid.

But he was quickly running out of ideas and he wasn't sure just how long Kurt could keep screaming like this. His little face and body were bright red, which was an alarming contrast to his normal cream colour. However, it was the volume of the cry from Kurt's lungs that had a vise grip on Burt's heart. His son clearly had a good set of pipes, and he looked forward to the day that Kurt used them for something other than wailing.

Kurt had forcefully rejected the bottle Burt had offered him. He cried harder when Burt tried to put him down. He tried talking to him. He turned on the television. He changed his diaper. Just when Burt thought he was at his breaking point, and he'd have to call Elizabeth, his eyes fell on the record player tucked into the corner. Then he remembered all the times he'd heard Elizabeth singing or humming to Kurt in the last three weeks and during the months of her pregnancy. Burt started the record spinning and the room was filled with the voice of Ella Fitzgerald asking the world to Dream A Little Dream of Me.

Immediately Kurt's little body relaxed in Burt's arms and he quieted down, with only the occasional whimper of exhaustion escaping his lips. Burt smiled at his son as relief flowed through his veins with the melody of the song. He knew after the stress of those helpless moments, he'd never forget again how to soothe Kurt with music.

Much too soon, Burt found himself needing to rely heavily on the lessons he learned that first day of solo daddy duty. As he held eight year-old Kurt in his arms and he cried for his mother to come back home, Burt hummed softly into his hair. They were at home, scared, terrified and just wishing this nightmare would stop. He didn't know how to make this house a home without Elizabeth or how to be both mother and father to the little boy clinging so tightly to him. He had hoped Kurt would be a man before he learned the fragility of life, but he realized that all the dreams in the world don't protect our children from the pain of reality. So he promised he wouldn't try. Instead, they would become a single unit of strength and face the fear of tomorrow together. And somehow, they would learn to do that without turning their hearts to stone because even though his was shattered, Burt still believed that a heart made of glass, rather than stone, was the only way to change the single white light of pain into all the colours of the rainbow.