AN: This is a bittersweet, someowhat lighthearted moment that I hope you'll enjoy. Inspired by lyrics from "In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning" by Frank Sinatra
Burt woke up before the sound of his alarm clock disturbed his slumber. Before the first rays of the morning even tried to peek their way around the blinds. It was times like this that he missed Kathleen the most. Missed being able to enjoy the peace of the early morning hours as he propped himself up on one elbow and watched her sleep. With her in his life, Burt hadn't needed the sun to brighten up his days - Kathleen had been his sunshine.
Five years later he still missed his "Morning Sunshine" as he had often called her, even on the most dreariest of days.
Throwing the blankets back, Burt climbed from the bed. There was nothing to hold him there these days - it was simply a place to sleep.
He made his way quietly to the kitchen, putting his morning coffee on. As the dark liquid started coming from the coffee maker into the pot, Burt turned from the kitchen and continued toward the basement steps. As softly as he could, he made his way down the steps to his son's room. Standing on the last step, Burt looked over at his son, just barely able to make out the sleeping form in the dim light. Theses days Kurt was his sunshine, the only reason he kept going at times.
As if sensing his father's presence, Kurt stirred.
"Am I late for school?" Kurt asked sleepily as he tried to clear his mind from the fog of slumber.
"No. It's still early. Go back to sleep Little Sunshine," Burt told him softly, wondering if Kurt would remember him using the nickname when he woke up later. His son had put a stop to him using it about three years ago when he claimed he was to old for a childish nickname like that. It was still how Burt saw his boy though.
Turning on his side, Kurt did just as his father suggested and fell back asleep. After watching him for a few more minutes, Burt slipped back up the steps and back to the kitchen, ready to start his morning early.